I woke up this morning in an absolutely fantastic mood. It was something like a dream so I feel a little compelled to tell all of you the story. So,
tighten up your chin straps 'cause I’m about to take you on a journey.
The sun was shining. The indigenous birds were chirping away and singing their songs of love...or hunger. I haven’t been able to define which is which yet.
It was probably hunger. A light breeze coming through the open widow delivered the most beautiful assortment of aromas imaginable. It was as if the smells
of the ocean, the flowers, suntan lotion, sweet desserts and succulent meals all curled up together in harmony like a great symphony orchestra would, to
deliver a direct blow to your nasal cavity. I rolled over in bed to gaze upon the beauty that lay beside me. She looked as if she had seen many long nights
before. The scars of war that marked her body were subtle, yet visible. Despite the signs of wear and tear she was still breathtakingly beautiful. The sun reflected
off of her form. Almost as if she was shining. She smelled of sweat and baby oil. As I looked down at her I realized that I had never seen her more comfortable
than she looked right then and there. She was home. I was overcome by emotion so I scooped her up in my arms stepped out onto my balcony, held that beauty over
my head and screamed at the top of my lungs “WELCOME BACK TO THE PROMISED LAND!!!!!! BOOYA!!!!!”
That’s when I really woke up to my phone ringing.
WrestleCon is fast approaching. I’m getting pretty amped up about it. And, I mean why wouldn’t I? We haven’t seen a celebration of professional wrestling
like this since...well, since National Pro Wrestling Day which is now available over at SmartMarkVideo.com!!!
Sorry, I was consumed by the need to cheaply plug something. I’m sorry, guys. It won’t happen again...I promise...as long as you pick up our NEW "Back
to the Promised Land" T-shirt for sale by emailing email@example.com
I grabbed my phone, the screen read “The Model Calling” I picked up and on the other end of the line was my good friend, Rick Martel. He wanted to congratulate
us on the big title win and tell me how proud he was. It was quite touching. I thanked him for the advice he bestowed on us, letting him know that we
couldn’t have pulled it off without the tidbits of wisdom that he shared with us. We got to talking and I let him know that Wink Vavasseur had informed
us that at WrestleCon Shane and I would, once again, find ourselves across the ring from F.I.S.T. in an 8-man tag match. This obviously led me to assume
that the super trio of BooyAkuma! would be back in action...but without our buddy El Generico around to answer the call, I got to thinking about a fourth man...
I explained my worries to Martel. I explained to him that we’ve faced F.I.S.T. on many different occasions. I explained that I feel like I
know everything there is to know about F.I.S.T. I know that any combination of them makes for a dangerous team. I know that every time we step in the ring with them
it can go either way. I know that Johnny Gargano and Chuck Taylor beat us for the Campeonatos last time around. I know that Sugar and Icarus are somehow
managing to co-exist and gain success with Icarus taking tag team strategies from a man he idolizes in Marty Janetty. I know, from experience, that F.I.S.T.
truly is CHIKARA’s deadliest group.
Rick was silent for a while. I could tell he was thinking about something. He asked me, “What was the last thing you said?”
“F.I.S.T. truly is CHIKARA’s deadliest group.”
“No, no, no! Before that!”
I wasn’t quite sure what he meant. “What? About Icarus idolizing Marty Jannetty?”
”Yes!!! Exactly! I’ll call you back. Booya!” Then he hung up on me.
I’ll admit, at first I was a little offput my the fact that Martel not only stole my catchphrase but he also hung up on me.
A few minutes later my phone rang. The call display read “Unknown”. I answered.
”Jag-Man, It’s Marty. The Model told me you're looking for a partner...”
Hey Icarus, I guess you’ll have your chance to impress your idol on April 6th.