She would torture my innocent ears (I had both of them back then) for hours, while she simultaneously participated in solitary sex acts, which she described in great detail. It was a great relationship—not necessarily one that evoked childhood memories of Santa’s Village, but great nonetheless. Then, unfortunately, we met.
Jeez, how was I going to explain this near-three-hour call to my wife? “You spoke to who? For how long?” My wife knows me pretty well, and she knows I possess a couple of odd but charming quirks, but I’m not sure even she would believe that I talk to this exotic, beautiful, voluptuous woman because she makes me feel like an innocent kid.
Besides, as I try to piece the conversation together, I realize I started fading in the latter stages, somewhere around the two-hour mark. I know she loved the idea, or else did a really good idea of pretending she did. She also seemed genuinely flattered that I would put so much faith in her, and that I would willingly sacrifice my dignity on her behalf.
Which seemed like a perfect time to repeat the words Terry Funk spoke to me right before putting me over in the King of the Deathmatch tournament in Yokohama, Japan, in 1995: “You know, I wouldn’t do this for many people.”
A Novel Idea
I finally did write that novel. But I didn’t take Judith Regan’s offer, although it turned out to be the highest one. As a matter of fact, I took the lowest offer, which also involved the promise of the most rewriting and editing.
Let me assure you, Hardcore Diaries is primarily a wrestling book. Sure, I explore some other themes, but I will try to tie them all back in, somehow, to WWE. I am not going to make you suffer through a chapter about the creation of a novel you have probably previously chosen not to read. It’s okay, you can admit it.
But as you will find out, Tietam Brown is what eventually brought me back to my WWE family. My second adventure in fiction, Scooter , is what led to an actual return to in-ring competition. So think of the novels as an extension of my wrestling career (albeit not a very financially successful one) and then suffer through a few pages about the origin of Tietam Brown.
Steph dreaming of Honey Bunny.
I had actually thought about this book for close to a year. The idea had been on my mind for several months before the New York Times article actually came out. As far back as September of 2000, I remember sitting with Stephanie McMahon and Kurt Angle at lunch, regaling them with one of the two visions that made me think I could actually do one of these novel things.
I should probably point out that it was in June of 2000 that I wrote Tales from Wrescal Lane, a children’s book that was eventually released in 2004, following a struggle with political red tape and my eighteen-month estrangement from the company. One of the two “tales” concerned little Steph’s attempt to raise money at a yard sale for “Honey Bunny,” the doll of her dreams. Along the way, her yard-sale stuff is destroyed, and the kids from Wrescal Lane (WWE Superstars as children) learn a valuable lesson about treating people with respect and kindness.
Vince had been very enthusiastic about the idea, so I sent in the Steph story, along with some prototype “Wrescals” (part wrestlers, part rascal) that my friend Jill Thompson, the artist who did the Halloween book with me, had illustrated.
A few days later, I was on the phone with Vince when he told me Steph wanted to say hello. What followed was one of my favorite conversations; one that, even without Hardcore Diaries to document it, would be hard for me to forget.
“Hi, Mick.”
“Yeah, hi Steph.”
“I can’t tell you how much I like your story.”
“Oh, thanks. I appreciate it.”
“You know, up until I read it, I never thought that you liked me.”
“You?” I said in disbelief. “Why?”
Now, I’m going to double-check with Steph to see if it’s all right to say this, but my
Learning to Kill: Stories