Post by Your Papi, Hanari Carnes on Sept 6, 2023 17:38:30 GMT -5
The white 2020 Mercedes-Benz GLS-Class pulled into the driveway. The crunch under the tires on the gravel path beneath the tires was loud on this quiet, breezy day in the island's interior. The rims glistened in the tropical sunlight, and the fully tinted windows gleamed with the rays that failed to penetrate to the inside. The SUV rolled up the driveway and parked behind a burnt out truck, coming to rest with a hum.
The door opened and Hanari Carnes stepped out, in his typical Versace dress pants and patent lether dress shoes. His Gucci dress shirt was open at the top, exposing his chest and the gold-cross pendant at the bottom of his chain. His cell phone chirped, and he checked it quickly before returning it to his pocket.
Family will always be there for you. They should always be first and spending time with them should take priority over just about everything. Family will forgive you and love you no matter what.
He walked up towards the front door. It had been so long since he had been here. There were laundry hangers in the front lawn, and empty wrappers and plastic bottles strewn aimlessly around the property. This was the life he grew up in, but this wasn't his life anymore. He wasn't even sure how they would recieve him now.
His fingers closed into fists as he knocked on the door. The old wooden door felt like it might buckle under the slightest pressure. After about 10 knocks, there was some ruffling inside. The door finally opened and a woman answered. She was about 5'6, curly black hair which looked like it hadn't been washed in some time, with a stained apron on and flat, worn out shoes.
Aunt Lucia.
Hanari smiled at her, but her eyes were empty and sad. It took her a moment to register the damn near GQ model that stood in front of her, on her doorstep. The welcome mat, in faded letters, washed out from the Caribean sun, read Bienvenido a casa. Or, Welcome Home.
"Auntie Lucia, tis me, Hanari...." his voice shook ever so slightly. This woman basically raised him. Did she not even recognize him now?
After a few agonizing seconds that felt like a full calendar year, she smiled. "HANARI!" she said, embracing him.
"CARLOS!" she yelled back into the house, stepping back so he could enter, "CARLOS....WE HAVE A VISITOR"
Hanari stepped inside, the wooden floorboards cracking under his weight. His shoes clicked on the floor as he looked at the dusty photographs on the wall. The wallpaper hadn't changed. It was the same wallpaper the house came with in the 1970's, and it was ripped and curling on several edges.
"CARLOS" she shouted again. Hanari stood in silence, smiling sheepishly, awaiting his uncle to make his appearance. His uncle wasn't as forgiving as his aunt was.
Who did come, however, was Alejandro. His little nephew. Hell, Hanari hadn't seen him since he was in diapers. He had gotten so big! The boy looked like he had been in the same clothes for days, a Superman tee shirt and tattered gym shorts. His bare feet were dirty, and his hair looked like gravel....it was supposed to be black.
Hanari nodded at the boy. He nodded back, but didn't leave--rather, he stood there, staring a hole through his "hero", the man who left them for a better opportunity without so much as a phone call.
Shuffling into the room came his uncle Carlos. Cigar in mouth, his wife beater tank top had sauce stains and his pants were worn in. He was a hard working man, and you could see in his face that life had gotten the better of him. He scoffed with a nasal huff towards the fancy dressed man standing in his living room.
"Well, look who took some time out of his fancy American life to come back home". His tone was flat. Spiteful. Hanari stood firm.
"I did what I had to do, uncle. I wanted a better life, I wanted to make something of myself."
The man shuffled into the other room, his face red. He wanted to say something, but he held it in.
"Hanari, come in, sit down, I made paella. There is enough. for us all. I assume you still like paella?"
Several hours later:
The music played in the background, the old record player cracking as Cafe Tacvba blared out their all-too-familiar notes. On the old wooden dining table sat a bottle of tequila. The paella, now more than three quarters gone, was split amongst 3 plates.
Hanari poured another shot, smoking a cigar. Alejandro was finishing his food while Aunt Lucia was cleaning. Hanari and Uncle Carlos were the main drinkers.
"So why did you come back, after all this time?"
Hanari took his tequila shot, slamming the glass down on the table.
"I have learned a lot of life lessons, Uncle. I have learned respect and to cherish those who respected you."
He poured another shot.
"You only get one family. I wouldn't be where I am if it weren't for you."
His uncle took his shot, then refilled it.
"So what, you have like some big match or something this week? Mr. Big shot over here."
"Well have a match to defend the honor of the country, of the family. My opponent this week......disrespected the flag."
"And you let them?!"
"It was post match, and there were three of them."
His uncle took another quick shot before lighting a match, bringing up to his already lit cigar. The orange inferno blazed, and a puff of smoke roared out of the edges.
"So you go and get your revenge. You get booked on bigger shows, maybe even win a title....then I suppose we won't see you again for another 5 years."
Hanari took a wad of money out of his pocket, and set it on the table.
"Perhaps. But I have to do what I have to do. You guys gave me all the life lessons I need.....it is only right I return the favor."
"We don't want your money."
Uncle Carlos had always been jealous of him. He had always viewed Hanari as a threat. The man who had to work three jobs to support a family and barely did it. Everything always came so easy for Hanari. Opportunity always seemed to find him.
Hanari left the money on the table. American currency. It was more money than they had ever seen in that house at one time. For Hanari, it wasn't even half a pay check.
Thanks Britlyn.
He walked over to Alejandro. Sitting down next to him, he smiled. The boy smiled backed. He refused to let Uncle Carlos corrupt him. This kid could be whatever he wanted, all he had to do was WANT it.
"You can be anything you want, you know" Hanari said to the boy, who continued to stare at his plate. "What do you want to be?"
The boy didn't look up.
"What do you want to be?"
The boy moved some rice around with his fork.
In a mumbled tone he said "a wrestler".
Hanari, pouring himself another shot, slapped the table. The boy jumped.
"Speak up! What do you WANT to be?!"
"A WRESTLER!" he shouted. Uncle Carlos stood up.
"Sit down!"
He sat back down, crossing his arms.
"So why haven't you been training? You're old enough now. You should be hitting the gym, taking classes."
The boy was hesitant, but finally said "Father thinks its a stupid goal.....won't go anywhere."
Hanari raised an eyebrow.
Without saying a word he grabbed the money on the table and slid it over to the young boy.
"You take this. You go and enroll in a gym. You begin training. If that is what you want to do, do it. Look at me......he told me the same thing."
The boy's eyes lit up.
Uncle Carlos got up and left the room in a huff.
From that moment forward, they clicked. Hanari spent the rest of the night telling the boy wrestling stories from his time on the road in XWF and OCW.
Aunt Lucia came back in the room sometime later and gasped. Hanari was talking to the boy, having him repeat after him.
"Coño culo perra"
"Coño culo perra"
"Cabrón"
"Cabrón"
"Dador mamado"
"Dador mamado"
"Hanari! Are you teaching our son curse words!" She dropped the glass she was holding.
"Of course not, Aunt Lucia! I am just showing Alejandro all the different ways to say "The Dynasty."
"Who?"
"Exactly."
![https://i.imgur.com/1bVIEXQ.jpg](https://i.imgur.com/1bVIEXQ.jpg)
"You thought you got one over on me, didn't ya? The three of you pulled the wool over Hanari's eyes. You seem to be forgetting who it is that I am. Sure, it's been a while since I've been in a wrestling ring, but I was a Campeón de televisión, a March Madness finalist, a TAG TEAM campeón by myself. I was an X-treme campeón. I have been on a winning War Games team. I have seen it all, done it all. You're a nothing, a nobody, a pee on. A little girl hiding behind her roid rage husband and his loudmouth manager, with no real skill to fall back on.
Have you felt true pain?
Do you know what it feels like to break a bone? Sugartits, that is what I do. When I lock in that arm bar, I do not let go until I hear the snap. I don't need weapons, I don't need the ability to do whatever I want without consequence. All I need is 10 seconds.........
SNAP!
Meth Biker Barbie will never be de same again.
You could have saved yourself, really. Sure, your husband won the match, that's fine. I have taken my losses, and I take them like a man. But did he BEAT me? Did he beat me without you getting involved? He did not, because he cannot. I could even let that slide. Then, you decided to mess with the flag of my homeland. Something I take pride in, and I love. THAT is where you crossed the line. I hope it treated you well, puta, because this game of capture the flag just got personal. I no longer want to just beat you, blemish that perfect record....oh no. I want to make you scream, beg, squeal....I want to make you tap out.
And I am going to.
You will submit to me. There is something validating in that. Anyone can get lucky enough to score a pinfall but when you break someone's will to continue and they say NO MAS, that is what is gratifying.
I am going to teach you a life lesson in that ring tomorrow night. I am going to teach you a life lesson in respect. Maybe, just maybe, when this is all said and done and they are putting that arm in a cast.....maybe then you will respect those who have paved the way and made this business possible for you in the first place.
I am not some newbie. I was winning titles while you were getting fingerbanged in a K-Mart parking lot after the coed mixer and telling him to hurry up because you had to be home by 10. I have spilled blood, and tasted my own. I have stood in the ring, both next to and across from, some of the giants in this industry. The Anderson's, pure and simple, don't cut it. You think you're protected because you have numbers on your side but you've awoken a sleeping beast, and when I step into that ring against you you're going to realize your mistake.
You got one over on the most dangerous man in wrestling.
Relish it.
Cherish it.
Because if you let your guard down you're going to be spending some time on the injured reserve list, and any memory of you will fade away. This is my roster, my show, my company, and if I have to make you a stepping stone on my climb then so be it.
Make every moment count and enjoy your journey because chu just never know when et es going to end......
In de blink of an eye or de snap of an arm."
When you fail at something, take a look at what you’ve been doing. Adjust or change your approach until you achieve your objectives.
![](https://i.imgur.com/JFRNPe0.jpg)
The door opened and Hanari Carnes stepped out, in his typical Versace dress pants and patent lether dress shoes. His Gucci dress shirt was open at the top, exposing his chest and the gold-cross pendant at the bottom of his chain. His cell phone chirped, and he checked it quickly before returning it to his pocket.
Family will always be there for you. They should always be first and spending time with them should take priority over just about everything. Family will forgive you and love you no matter what.
He walked up towards the front door. It had been so long since he had been here. There were laundry hangers in the front lawn, and empty wrappers and plastic bottles strewn aimlessly around the property. This was the life he grew up in, but this wasn't his life anymore. He wasn't even sure how they would recieve him now.
..........The wad of American currency in his pocket reassured him that they would...........
But that didn't mask the fact that the butterflies in his stomach were surging like a pack of angry hornets. He finally made it to the door, trying hard to step in double-steps as to avoid soiling his shoes in the sordid wasteland that was the front lawn.......the very same one he used to play on.His fingers closed into fists as he knocked on the door. The old wooden door felt like it might buckle under the slightest pressure. After about 10 knocks, there was some ruffling inside. The door finally opened and a woman answered. She was about 5'6, curly black hair which looked like it hadn't been washed in some time, with a stained apron on and flat, worn out shoes.
Aunt Lucia.
Hanari smiled at her, but her eyes were empty and sad. It took her a moment to register the damn near GQ model that stood in front of her, on her doorstep. The welcome mat, in faded letters, washed out from the Caribean sun, read Bienvenido a casa. Or, Welcome Home.
"Auntie Lucia, tis me, Hanari...." his voice shook ever so slightly. This woman basically raised him. Did she not even recognize him now?
After a few agonizing seconds that felt like a full calendar year, she smiled. "HANARI!" she said, embracing him.
"CARLOS!" she yelled back into the house, stepping back so he could enter, "CARLOS....WE HAVE A VISITOR"
Hanari stepped inside, the wooden floorboards cracking under his weight. His shoes clicked on the floor as he looked at the dusty photographs on the wall. The wallpaper hadn't changed. It was the same wallpaper the house came with in the 1970's, and it was ripped and curling on several edges.
"CARLOS" she shouted again. Hanari stood in silence, smiling sheepishly, awaiting his uncle to make his appearance. His uncle wasn't as forgiving as his aunt was.
Who did come, however, was Alejandro. His little nephew. Hell, Hanari hadn't seen him since he was in diapers. He had gotten so big! The boy looked like he had been in the same clothes for days, a Superman tee shirt and tattered gym shorts. His bare feet were dirty, and his hair looked like gravel....it was supposed to be black.
Hanari nodded at the boy. He nodded back, but didn't leave--rather, he stood there, staring a hole through his "hero", the man who left them for a better opportunity without so much as a phone call.
Shuffling into the room came his uncle Carlos. Cigar in mouth, his wife beater tank top had sauce stains and his pants were worn in. He was a hard working man, and you could see in his face that life had gotten the better of him. He scoffed with a nasal huff towards the fancy dressed man standing in his living room.
"Well, look who took some time out of his fancy American life to come back home". His tone was flat. Spiteful. Hanari stood firm.
"I did what I had to do, uncle. I wanted a better life, I wanted to make something of myself."
The man shuffled into the other room, his face red. He wanted to say something, but he held it in.
"Hanari, come in, sit down, I made paella. There is enough. for us all. I assume you still like paella?"
Several hours later:
The music played in the background, the old record player cracking as Cafe Tacvba blared out their all-too-familiar notes. On the old wooden dining table sat a bottle of tequila. The paella, now more than three quarters gone, was split amongst 3 plates.
Hanari poured another shot, smoking a cigar. Alejandro was finishing his food while Aunt Lucia was cleaning. Hanari and Uncle Carlos were the main drinkers.
"So why did you come back, after all this time?"
Hanari took his tequila shot, slamming the glass down on the table.
"I have learned a lot of life lessons, Uncle. I have learned respect and to cherish those who respected you."
He poured another shot.
"You only get one family. I wouldn't be where I am if it weren't for you."
His uncle took his shot, then refilled it.
"So what, you have like some big match or something this week? Mr. Big shot over here."
"Well have a match to defend the honor of the country, of the family. My opponent this week......disrespected the flag."
"And you let them?!"
"It was post match, and there were three of them."
His uncle took another quick shot before lighting a match, bringing up to his already lit cigar. The orange inferno blazed, and a puff of smoke roared out of the edges.
"So you go and get your revenge. You get booked on bigger shows, maybe even win a title....then I suppose we won't see you again for another 5 years."
Hanari took a wad of money out of his pocket, and set it on the table.
"Perhaps. But I have to do what I have to do. You guys gave me all the life lessons I need.....it is only right I return the favor."
"We don't want your money."
Uncle Carlos had always been jealous of him. He had always viewed Hanari as a threat. The man who had to work three jobs to support a family and barely did it. Everything always came so easy for Hanari. Opportunity always seemed to find him.
Hanari left the money on the table. American currency. It was more money than they had ever seen in that house at one time. For Hanari, it wasn't even half a pay check.
Thanks Britlyn.
He walked over to Alejandro. Sitting down next to him, he smiled. The boy smiled backed. He refused to let Uncle Carlos corrupt him. This kid could be whatever he wanted, all he had to do was WANT it.
"You can be anything you want, you know" Hanari said to the boy, who continued to stare at his plate. "What do you want to be?"
The boy didn't look up.
"What do you want to be?"
The boy moved some rice around with his fork.
In a mumbled tone he said "a wrestler".
Hanari, pouring himself another shot, slapped the table. The boy jumped.
"Speak up! What do you WANT to be?!"
"A WRESTLER!" he shouted. Uncle Carlos stood up.
"Sit down!"
He sat back down, crossing his arms.
"So why haven't you been training? You're old enough now. You should be hitting the gym, taking classes."
The boy was hesitant, but finally said "Father thinks its a stupid goal.....won't go anywhere."
Hanari raised an eyebrow.
Without saying a word he grabbed the money on the table and slid it over to the young boy.
"You take this. You go and enroll in a gym. You begin training. If that is what you want to do, do it. Look at me......he told me the same thing."
The boy's eyes lit up.
Uncle Carlos got up and left the room in a huff.
From that moment forward, they clicked. Hanari spent the rest of the night telling the boy wrestling stories from his time on the road in XWF and OCW.
Aunt Lucia came back in the room sometime later and gasped. Hanari was talking to the boy, having him repeat after him.
"Coño culo perra"
"Coño culo perra"
"Cabrón"
"Cabrón"
"Dador mamado"
"Dador mamado"
"Hanari! Are you teaching our son curse words!" She dropped the glass she was holding.
"Of course not, Aunt Lucia! I am just showing Alejandro all the different ways to say "The Dynasty."
"Who?"
"Exactly."
![https://i.imgur.com/1bVIEXQ.jpg](https://i.imgur.com/1bVIEXQ.jpg)
"You thought you got one over on me, didn't ya? The three of you pulled the wool over Hanari's eyes. You seem to be forgetting who it is that I am. Sure, it's been a while since I've been in a wrestling ring, but I was a Campeón de televisión, a March Madness finalist, a TAG TEAM campeón by myself. I was an X-treme campeón. I have been on a winning War Games team. I have seen it all, done it all. You're a nothing, a nobody, a pee on. A little girl hiding behind her roid rage husband and his loudmouth manager, with no real skill to fall back on.
Have you felt true pain?
Do you know what it feels like to break a bone? Sugartits, that is what I do. When I lock in that arm bar, I do not let go until I hear the snap. I don't need weapons, I don't need the ability to do whatever I want without consequence. All I need is 10 seconds.........
SNAP!
Meth Biker Barbie will never be de same again.
You could have saved yourself, really. Sure, your husband won the match, that's fine. I have taken my losses, and I take them like a man. But did he BEAT me? Did he beat me without you getting involved? He did not, because he cannot. I could even let that slide. Then, you decided to mess with the flag of my homeland. Something I take pride in, and I love. THAT is where you crossed the line. I hope it treated you well, puta, because this game of capture the flag just got personal. I no longer want to just beat you, blemish that perfect record....oh no. I want to make you scream, beg, squeal....I want to make you tap out.
And I am going to.
You will submit to me. There is something validating in that. Anyone can get lucky enough to score a pinfall but when you break someone's will to continue and they say NO MAS, that is what is gratifying.
I am going to teach you a life lesson in that ring tomorrow night. I am going to teach you a life lesson in respect. Maybe, just maybe, when this is all said and done and they are putting that arm in a cast.....maybe then you will respect those who have paved the way and made this business possible for you in the first place.
I am not some newbie. I was winning titles while you were getting fingerbanged in a K-Mart parking lot after the coed mixer and telling him to hurry up because you had to be home by 10. I have spilled blood, and tasted my own. I have stood in the ring, both next to and across from, some of the giants in this industry. The Anderson's, pure and simple, don't cut it. You think you're protected because you have numbers on your side but you've awoken a sleeping beast, and when I step into that ring against you you're going to realize your mistake.
You got one over on the most dangerous man in wrestling.
Relish it.
Cherish it.
Because if you let your guard down you're going to be spending some time on the injured reserve list, and any memory of you will fade away. This is my roster, my show, my company, and if I have to make you a stepping stone on my climb then so be it.
Make every moment count and enjoy your journey because chu just never know when et es going to end......
In de blink of an eye or de snap of an arm."
Failure is the greatest source of wisdom.
When you fail at something, take a look at what you’ve been doing. Adjust or change your approach until you achieve your objectives.
¡Viva la República Dominicana!
¡Viva Hanari Carnes!
¡Viva Hanari Carnes!
![](https://i.imgur.com/JFRNPe0.jpg)