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- Oct 8, 2019
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Following the events of Back in Business XVI in Rio de Janeiro, the following letter was recovered from the hotel of one “Rockstar” Randy Ramon. While the investigation into the events of the evening were ongoing, it remained under custody of the local police, never seeing the light of day.
Now that Randy Ramon has resurfaced, alive and (something approximating) well, the investigation has been closed and the confiscated items have been returned.
Except they haven’t – they were intercepted by a local TMZ-like outlet, and when they could find no financial reason to hold onto this particular item, the decision was made to publish it on the internet.
Dear Devin,
If you’re reading this, then it means that fate has ultimately intervened in the most unfortunate way possible. If I finish writing this, then it means that I somehow summoned the courage to say some things that even the deepest bottle of bourbon never permitted me to utter out loud. Wish me luck my friend, as I’m doing my damndest to find the lowest point of that very bottle as I type this on the oldest typewriter known to man.
First off, I need you to know that this was not your fault. Not in some sick, self-stroked ego sort of way… it’s just obviously not your fault.
It’s not like you paid Krash and Black to sneak attack us that night back in 2020.
It’s not like you let them take the tag titles from us a Lights Out in 2021.
It’s not like it’s your fault Krash literally stole my World Title at Mile High.
It’s not your fault, and I’m not suggesting you will, but I want to be sure you don’t blame yourself for what is about to happen.
I’m aware that it’s almost entirely my fault. Also, Krash’s.
Actually, I take it back. It’s all Krash’s fault entirely. Fuck that guy and fuck the Gang Stars.
Anyway, I’m about to end things with him once and for all. He doesn’t know it yet, but tonight is the end for us both, one way or another.
The thing is, I’ve known this night was coming for a long time. Not as in “the night I get revenge” or “the night I punch Krash in the dick hole” or some vague statement like that… this actual night.
I can’t really explain it in writing. Hell, I don’t know if I could actually explain it if you were standing here in front of me. So, if you ever read this, you’re going to have to take my word for it. Plus, if I tried to explain it, you’d just think I was crazy anyway. Which is funny given the state of YOUR mind at this moment. Moving on…
I thought about trying to avoid tonight all together. Get out of the city, out of Brazil, rent a spaceship and get off the planet… any number of things… but it wouldn’t matter. Fate is fate. I even consulted the Book of Wonder, six ways from Sunday, and it always did the same thing: steered me back to calling Violet and setting everything in motion. It’s infuriating, really – for someone to used to being in control to have absolutely no control over his own destiny.
Guess that’s the point of destiny, though, isn’t it?
I also feel the need to apologize. As we came closer and closer to today’s date, I know I became harder and harder to work with. I’ve been less reliable and quicker to anger. It’s not easy for a man to admit he has an expiration date, especially one who has worked through as much shit as I have. None of that is an excuse though, you deserved better. Full stop.
You’ve been my best friend, biggest supporter and at times, my only confidant through everything. How did I repay you? By being a cantankerous shit. By bitching about the littlest things. Complaining about almost every little thing I possibly could.
Oh, and also that REMIX in the middle the ring a few weeks ago. Funny as shit, but probably not completely and totally deserved. I just couldn’t take the solipshitstic coma or whatever you had slipped into it anymore and hoped that would snap you out of it. Wishful thinking, I guess. I promise you though, it was never, ever, personal.
They say that you either die too soon, or live long enough that you become the enemy. I know we always said we were never going to stand opposite one another, but I’ve found some peace knowing that after tonight, we’re never going to have to worry about that.
Finally, I want to thank you. You don’t know it, and maybe you will never fully understand, but you saved my life. Back in 2020, I reached an all-time low. I was ready to take fate into my own hands, and make sure that this night never came. But then from the clouds came a Golden shower, er, savior.
You showed me that life could still be fun. That wrestling could still be fun. That WINNING is fun. And boy, we did do a lot of winning, didn’t we? #BIB2021
If it wasn’t for you, I’d have missed out on several years of fun, and winning, and globetrotting. I’d have never seen your face the first time you held your daughter, or been there the first time you had absinthe, or that time we crossed streams in Belgium. Tonight is going to suck, but it has all been worth it, for the adventures we’ve shared.
I don’t know if you’ll retire, or win seven more World Titles, or die in that ring, but whatever you decide, you absolutely deserve it. You are, were, and always be one of the good ones – even when you’re a humongous asshole, which is obviously most of the time.
I have a hot date with a cold stream tonight, but maybe ours will cross again someday. Wait, that – actually - I’m going to leave it.
I love you brother, thanks again for everything. Carry that Golden Rock flag proudly for me while I'm gone.
And as always...
Now that Randy Ramon has resurfaced, alive and (something approximating) well, the investigation has been closed and the confiscated items have been returned.
Except they haven’t – they were intercepted by a local TMZ-like outlet, and when they could find no financial reason to hold onto this particular item, the decision was made to publish it on the internet.
July 9, 2022
Dear Devin,
If you’re reading this, then it means that fate has ultimately intervened in the most unfortunate way possible. If I finish writing this, then it means that I somehow summoned the courage to say some things that even the deepest bottle of bourbon never permitted me to utter out loud. Wish me luck my friend, as I’m doing my damndest to find the lowest point of that very bottle as I type this on the oldest typewriter known to man.
First off, I need you to know that this was not your fault. Not in some sick, self-stroked ego sort of way… it’s just obviously not your fault.
It’s not like you paid Krash and Black to sneak attack us that night back in 2020.
It’s not like you let them take the tag titles from us a Lights Out in 2021.
It’s not like it’s your fault Krash literally stole my World Title at Mile High.
It’s not your fault, and I’m not suggesting you will, but I want to be sure you don’t blame yourself for what is about to happen.
I’m aware that it’s almost entirely my fault. Also, Krash’s.
Actually, I take it back. It’s all Krash’s fault entirely. Fuck that guy and fuck the Gang Stars.
Anyway, I’m about to end things with him once and for all. He doesn’t know it yet, but tonight is the end for us both, one way or another.
The thing is, I’ve known this night was coming for a long time. Not as in “the night I get revenge” or “the night I punch Krash in the dick hole” or some vague statement like that… this actual night.
I can’t really explain it in writing. Hell, I don’t know if I could actually explain it if you were standing here in front of me. So, if you ever read this, you’re going to have to take my word for it. Plus, if I tried to explain it, you’d just think I was crazy anyway. Which is funny given the state of YOUR mind at this moment. Moving on…
I thought about trying to avoid tonight all together. Get out of the city, out of Brazil, rent a spaceship and get off the planet… any number of things… but it wouldn’t matter. Fate is fate. I even consulted the Book of Wonder, six ways from Sunday, and it always did the same thing: steered me back to calling Violet and setting everything in motion. It’s infuriating, really – for someone to used to being in control to have absolutely no control over his own destiny.
Guess that’s the point of destiny, though, isn’t it?
I also feel the need to apologize. As we came closer and closer to today’s date, I know I became harder and harder to work with. I’ve been less reliable and quicker to anger. It’s not easy for a man to admit he has an expiration date, especially one who has worked through as much shit as I have. None of that is an excuse though, you deserved better. Full stop.
You’ve been my best friend, biggest supporter and at times, my only confidant through everything. How did I repay you? By being a cantankerous shit. By bitching about the littlest things. Complaining about almost every little thing I possibly could.
Oh, and also that REMIX in the middle the ring a few weeks ago. Funny as shit, but probably not completely and totally deserved. I just couldn’t take the solipshitstic coma or whatever you had slipped into it anymore and hoped that would snap you out of it. Wishful thinking, I guess. I promise you though, it was never, ever, personal.
They say that you either die too soon, or live long enough that you become the enemy. I know we always said we were never going to stand opposite one another, but I’ve found some peace knowing that after tonight, we’re never going to have to worry about that.
Finally, I want to thank you. You don’t know it, and maybe you will never fully understand, but you saved my life. Back in 2020, I reached an all-time low. I was ready to take fate into my own hands, and make sure that this night never came. But then from the clouds came a Golden shower, er, savior.
You showed me that life could still be fun. That wrestling could still be fun. That WINNING is fun. And boy, we did do a lot of winning, didn’t we? #BIB2021
If it wasn’t for you, I’d have missed out on several years of fun, and winning, and globetrotting. I’d have never seen your face the first time you held your daughter, or been there the first time you had absinthe, or that time we crossed streams in Belgium. Tonight is going to suck, but it has all been worth it, for the adventures we’ve shared.
I don’t know if you’ll retire, or win seven more World Titles, or die in that ring, but whatever you decide, you absolutely deserve it. You are, were, and always be one of the good ones – even when you’re a humongous asshole, which is obviously most of the time.
I have a hot date with a cold stream tonight, but maybe ours will cross again someday. Wait, that – actually - I’m going to leave it.
I love you brother, thanks again for everything. Carry that Golden Rock flag proudly for me while I'm gone.
And as always...
...fuck the black parade.
R3
