The Colombain Chronicles.

[interested]

Diary Entry: October 17th, 19:34.

So, I've come to terms with what's happened. I had always pondered what happened to Pyro: I assumed that the bastard had just done a runner the constant beatings he suffered, just moping around in his fancy accommodation waiting for the money to roll in. But no, it turns out that he had denied me the one chance of getting fully square with him: he snuffed out his own lights.

...The cowardly fucker. He knew that his time was coming, so he decided to take his own life away: a chance that I deserved. Pyro humiliated me in front of his own lackeys, nearly putting me into a damn coma. Shit like that NEVER gets past me. He knew that I was out for him. Those two matches proved it. How he managed to get the first victory over me, I shall never know. Talentless hack must've exploited a rule or some other crazy shit. But I got vengeance during that Cage match. If only the botch was good enough to put him into a Coma, THEN I would have been able to finish him off without anyone ever noticing. But no, he was still conscious, and from all I recall, vanished after... who the fuck was it again? Oh yeah: Raiyven. He must've been fucking Lilith behind Pyro's back or something.

I had always wondered what happened to him after FCW finished: taking out all those pathetic pricks in that "Monster's Ball" wasn't satisfying enough anyway. I'd lust for the chance at gold, but every single fucking time, I'd let it slip like a retard trying to fuck a doorknob. ...Where the fuck am I going with this? Oh yeah.

That day that particular paper came out. I shall never forget it.



Seeing that made my volatile rage just magnify. That hotel room must be taking ages to repair again after what I put it through. Why he felt this way will remain a mystery: a mystery I will never be able to solve.

I guess I'll have to try and find some other way of quenching this gaping hole.

Bryan Colombain.

[interested]

Diary Entry: October 23rd, 23:11.

This fury that burns inside my soul continues to engulf my mind. No matter what I do to distract myself, that... PRICK, is right there, laughing at me. People have begun staring at me in public places, only because I keep throwing objects at something that isn't there. It's destroying me on the inside.

However, there has been something that allows me to feel some form of temporary satisfaction: touring the various feds that need a slot filled. It seems my work in FCW hasn't gone unnoticed, as I've been getting recognised quicker by the crowd. Kinda a double edged sword. They can remember me for putting that asshole on the road to his destruction, but some smart fuckers are clever enough to remember my humiliating loss to that fat, stinking, hobo Mexican, "El Humungo". Fucking fatass. Besides, they should be focusing more on how quickly they can call 911: last dumbass I faced back in... I forget what it's called. Anyway, last dumbass that faced me ended up with severe blood loss. I guess my boot's getting better every time.

...I don't know why, but for some completely idiotic reason, a very small part of me believes that prick is still out there, hiding. Why I would even contemplate that is a mystery to me.

I really need to find something that will help take my mind away from all of this crap.

Bryan Colombain.

[interested]

Diary Entry: October 29th, 21:03.

I'm such a fucking idiot.

I go to drown my sorrows at a nearby bar, and what do I do? I get into a fucking barfight. Well done Bryan, you twat.

This all wouldn't have happened if that small fry asshole didn't aggravate me. Sure, I took him down with ease, but as soon as reinforcements came in, I knew that would be it. Some sneaky fucker even used a broken bottle against me.

Another battle scar to add to the list, only in a place I didn't want it to be in.

Just fucking great.

Bryan Colombain.

[interested]

Diary Entry: November 5th, 15:45.

Looks like I may be wrestling in a decent company some time soon again.

I caught word that a new fed known as "GCW" seems to be emerging, and who'd've thought that my former boss, Amanda Wallace, would be one of the co-owners? Pure brilliance.

That wench would have no trouble hiring me to bring the place to life.

I just hope that former FCW rejects don't make their way there either, or else Satan will be taking an early retirement...

Bryan Colombain.

[interested]

Diary Entry: November 29th, 23:43.

Police here in America can be such fucking retards. WHY my parents had to come from this shithole I shall never know.

Why the hell did I decide to travel through Alabama in the first place? It's such a fucking Hick state. Every corner I go around I get approached by some nutcase trying to preach the word of "God" to me. As much as I tried to ignore it, it I couldn't take it anymore. Next guy that tried preaching to me ended up on the receiving end of a headbutt.

Despite feeling almost little-to-no remorse in most cases, I do feel sorry for black people in Alabama. The fucking KKK are like flies in Alabama: here I am driving through one simple street, and the next thing I see is a flock of dickheads covered in (mostly) white bombarding this one house. If ONLY I could have run some of those fucking illiterate inbreds over...

Where was I? Oh yeah.

The police are such fucking retards. I was pulled over and charged with an attempted robbery. Turns out they find out they have the wrong guy, as my physical profile is highly inaccurate to the evidence they received of the robbery. How, in all that was enlightened by Buddha, can they mix me up with some brain-damaged junkie who robbed from a bank that probably has as much value as a used condom on a toothbrush? Bah.

Ahh well, at least today wasn't all bad news.

It seems that the campaign for GCW has begun, seeing as I managed to see a few flies stuck up whilst driving around. Looks like I'll have to take a trip to Chicago and pay Amanda another visit near the time.

Maybe wrestling in GCW will take my mind off the... "other" problem.

Bryan Colombain.