The Legend Of Tommy Levi
Death is not a dream, but only a transition













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Death is not a dream, but only an transition

Posted on March 19, 2002 at 01:04:25 AM

*
"If this is the last kiss
Let's make it last all night."
*

*
The cold wind blew his leather jacket almost off his body as he got out of the limo and stepped onto the concrete infront of the civic center in Montreal.

His shirt, the old RWA shirt he hardly ever wore, wrapped around his massive chest like a mold of a greek god. For as much as he loved touting his RWF wins, his hatred of Boyce, his character traits, he knew this was going to hurt. It hurt already.

As he walked through the door, the security gaurd immediatly recognized him and escorted him without a word to a backroom. The audience must not know he's here, and God forbid a leak goes into the internet. The dirts would pounce on this in a heartbeat.

A heartbeat. Something Levi could feel in his throat already. He was here alright. Backstage, in the dressing room of his long time mentor and friend.

He was at WWF RAW, and was sitting in the couch of Ric Flair.

Arn was the first to come through the door, bandage still on his head from the evening befores festivities. A hug between them was more than words could say. Arn sat down on the couch across from him, eyeing him. It was if this was all a dream. He had been back here before. But it was never like tonight.

It was NEVER like tonight.

"Ric will be here in a minute. They're going over the plan for today. Look man, LOOK at you. My god. Youre HUGE!"

"Heh, yeah, Arn, i guess I've put on a little weight in the past two years since you seen me."

"A Little? Shit, you look like you got ahold of Steiners Secret Stash. Ha ha ha."

The two friends laughed. It had been almost two years since they had seen each other in person, a lunchean for the Coullyflower Alley's Club. Arn had barely been able to contain his excitement then about Levi. Barely able to contain his mouth when it came to how many times the word Enforcer was thrown at Levi, in respect to Arn's great accomplishments.

"You watch the show last night?"

"Of course. No one misses Mania, man. HELL of a spinebuster there Arn. I knew you had it left."

"Well, I dont know if I could get in there like Ric doe-... Well, speak of the devil..."

The door opened and there stood Ric Flair. His grey buisness suit tucked in, making the already distinguished face look even more respected. The two large bandages on his forhead covering deep gash wounds.

"You two, just like a couple of school marm gossips.."

The smile couldnt be wiped off Levi's face with a bazooka. Flair's either. The two shared a hug as Flair just simply said:

"Welcome home, Tommy."

Levi closed his eyes. He knew that was what he wanted to hear. He KNEW that was what he wanted to hear.

But it just didnt sound... right

"Well, sit the fuck down, Tom, get on your ass. I'll get you a beer, you want a beer? Of course you do, you wanna share a beer with the Enforcer, Double A, Arn Anderson, and the NATURE BOY! WOO!"

Ric was doing his act, but this time for no cameras. He was doing it because it felt good. He was doing it because it was good times. For him at least.

"Aw shit. All they got in here is that Molsen shit. Damn Canadians. I got some Pepsi in here though, you want a Pepsi?"

"Yeah, Ric, that would be great."

"Hey, Arn, heads up" Ric yelled as he chucked one, then two pepsi cans at Arn. Arn, former collegite catcher, didnt even barely make an effort but made picture perfect catches.

"Ric, you know why I'm here.."

"Sure as hell do, kid. You're awesome. You're what we need. We're splitting the roster next week and we need guys like you. That audience will go BAT SHIT when they see you, Tommy."

"I know Ric.. it's just.."

"Look, kid. I know. Trust me I know. When I was with WCW, I went through the same thing. Should I stay? Should I go? We werent drawing flies anywhere but the south and Canada. We couldn't compete. They gave up on us and just sent us out there. I know what it's like, Tommy. I know what its like to be SURROUNDED by guys who shouldnt be in the ring because they are too old, or too young, Tommy I KNOW. I LIVED IT! And I Stayed. Out of loyalty to that company. And how did I get repaid?

I sat on my ass for a year and collected a paycheck while I watched the WWF do what the WCW would have done with thier name had they won the battle. I couldnt sit no more, Tommy. We know youre contracts up. We know youre a free agent as of RIGHT NOW. You could even bring Taylor. Drop those tag belts, do the right thing, drop those belts at a house show and sign our contracts Tommy. You wont regret it."

"I dunno Ric. I know you guys are more work then shoot here. I know you guys are alot easier on my body, im sure of that. But, I just don't know if I can leave them when they need me. You know?"

Ric didnt say a word. Instead he just handed Tommy a folder. Slowly, Levi took it, opening it. A stack of papers, stapled together in the top left corner were inside. At the top it simply read:

"World Wrestling Federation Contract:
Thomas Aaron Levi"

But words werent enough right now. Words would follow, but what they may be?

What will his words be?

Tommy wanted to know himself...
*