Word Wrestling Entertainment has proven itself to be the wrestling empire of the world. Yet this empire has somehow managed to have a state of purgatory for its subsidiaries. A state where characters stagnate, direction is absent, and interest is void. Which members of this empire has experienced purgatory the most? Read the diaries of Curtis Axel and Bray Wyatt, two wrestlers poorly repackaged and now in purgatory, and find out.
It has now been approximately 400 days since my inception. Or, at least, my repackaging. When I first came to WWE, I was a part of history. Man, do I look back and remember the days. Heh, sweet reminiscing does the body good. When Nexus debuted, and I with them, in WWE by interfering in a John Cena/CM Punk matchup, we caused hell. Wrecked havoc. Kicked ass. And more importantly, made a name for ourselves. I was given the alias, Michael Mcguil-something, that last part still gets to me. We would appear at PPV’s, interfering in WWE Title matches, even interfering in a match with the Undertaker. But the Nexus died a slow, painful death. Not a quick one where we all just disappear. No, this was one of the slow, month-by-month anguish that we suffered. Low profile match at WrestleMania 27, disbanded into The New Nexus and The Corre, and soon, I was gone. Wandering no where. People could care less about my absence, seeing as how John Cena, CM Punk, Randy Orton and Daniel Bryan took up much of their time. But as fate would see fit, I was given a chance. I was paired, with Paul E. Dangerously. The mastermind of ECW. A man who can cut a great promo with little effort. An advocate of a beast. I felt so fresh coming back last year. Coming back with a modern rendition of my father’s music, the bright blue lights, and the spotlight on me.
I vigorously chanted “I”M BACK” for those who didn’t recognize me at first. Perhaps it was the beard, I don’t know. Nothing could make me happier. Who could ruin such a monumental moment? Surely not a guy like Triple H, right? Oh, he so totally would. Here is a 14 time World Champion. Main evented multiple Wrestlemanias. Has the distinct honor of facing the Undertaker not once, not twice but THRICE at WrestleMania, and lost all three! One of the most iconic figures in WWE history. But I couldn’t care if it was him or Santino Marella, no one was going to interrupt me. I found this inner reserve of fortitude I never knew I had, and it was all taken away as Triple H pimp-slapped me in the face. Right in front of my new advocate, and thousands of Triple H marks. We engaged in a series of fisticuffs for the next couple of weeks in matches, where I actually have a registered forefit and DQ victory over him. Sure, this was all apart of a storyline featuring him and his father, but, hey, a win’s a win! I mean, I never expected to have Triple H throw in the towel for a guy like me. After all, I wouldn’t set expectations that are unrealistic. Hell, I even got a count out victory over the WWE Champion, John Cena. Yea, Ryback distracted him, but who cares?
I have the best manager a modern wrestler can ask for, catchy music (though oft remixed), a decent moveset and all the momentum in the world! Man, I still remember the Payback PPV last year. Defeating an obnoxious, cilche wrestler like the Miz and my former captain of Nexus, Wade Barrett to win the Intercontinental Championship. The Chicago crowd was actually giving me a reaction, and as I looked at my prize, I couldn’t help but look up to the beyond with the memories of my father, Mr. Perfect, in my view. I was the king of the world. Victories over the likes of Chris Jericho was under my belt, and I received lots of heel heat by costing Daniel Bryan a chance at being called Mr. Money In The Bank for a second time.
My manager continued this trend by attacking his former client, CM Punk, at the same PPV. But then, I felt a huge pain in my chest. Something was wrong. I’m in my first major singles feud. Well, the singles feud was techinically was Heyman/Punk and he did most of the talking. I just stood there because I needed to. But Punk was wrestling me. Very soon, I saw that I was no match for the Best In The World. I began losing to him, so much so that it soon became jobbing. Even when we jumped him with Ryback, Punk still would gain the upper hand. My IC Title lost its luster as the months grew by. Kofi Kingston and R-Truth were far from formidable adversaries, but I needed every win I could get to stay relevant. Soon, people would just stop cheering because all of a sudden, I had become a stranger. It’s as if I never came back. Soon, Big E would beat me for my title, and all of a sudden, I find myself tagging with a man who also feuded with Punk, and subsequently lost, and also predominant backstage bully, Ryback. We tagged, and we lost. We tagged some more, lost some more. We had some title shots against The Rhodes Brothers and The Usos, but no go. Nothing availed here. And I’ve been doing this since last year Novemeber. Just a tag team. I am no longer relevant. Hell, do people even know I exist? I went from facing the likes of John Cena, Triple H and CM Punk to being a jobber, to being in a tag team, to getting non televised entrances, to just trying to stay relevant. Staying relevant….in wrestling purgatory. How the hell did that happen? Day 463, we lose a handicap match to Roman Reigns by a disqualification. Send food. This could get uglier.
Like my former comrade, Mr. Axel, I too was a member of one of the best concoctions in WWE history. I was given a name that gave a stereotypical impression that I wasn’t on the skinny end of the spectrum, Husky Harris. I was just playing myself in WWE ’12, and needless to say, especially my face, I have changed much. Before, I was nobody. Just another random name amongst eight. Soon, I joined CM Punk to the New Nexus, but what good would that do for me on a personal level? I soon left after my stint with the Nexus was over and I decided to go back to the root of a preponderance of WWE wrestlers NXT.