Tyler looks at me from across the porch, his eyes glinting wildly as he giggles and runs energetically to the railing and begins to climb it. I lunge over to him and grab him by the waist, pulling him off the ledge and into the air and spinning several times before setting him back down on the ground. He giggles louder and louder the entire time. I missed that sound.

TYLER: I'm happy you're here daddy!

RAVEN: Me too buddy. I'm sorry again, I wanted to come sooner. I've just been on the road a lot.

TYLER: What's that mean?

RAVEN: Traveling. I have to go to different cities all the time to wrestle people.

TYLER: Oh. Did you ever meet Thaddeus Duke?

I roll my eyes and sigh. Back to this shit again. I bite my tongue as about a dozen insults for the arrogant prepubescent brat fly through my mind, then offer a weak smile and nod my head.

RAVEN: Yeah, I sure have.

He explodes.

TYLER: OH MY GOD! Oh my god! You met Thaddeus?! Do you have pictures? Was he nice to you? Did you fight each other?

I want to tell him the truth. Yeah, we fought each other when I kicked his molars down his throats and eliminated him from High Stakes. No, we didn't take a selfie but the video is readily available. Was he nice to me? Sure. The kid idolizes me. At least somebodies child does.

I don't have the heart to rain on his parade. I see the hope in his eyes.

RAVEN: Nah, we didn't fight yet. Maybe soon.

TYLER: No! Don't fight him! You should be friends, you can help each other!

RAVEN: Maybe, Ty. Maybe. The business doesn't always work the way you want it to, though. Sometimes people don't want to be your friend. Sometimes they do, but you have to fight them anyway.

TYLER: That's dumb.

I can't help but laugh out loud.

RAVEN: You're telling me.

TYLER: If you do fight him don't get hurt, ok?

RAVEN: Hey! What makes you think I'd get hurt? Maybe I'd hurt him.

TYLER: I don't want you to hurt him either! He's my favourite!

RAVEN: Uh-huh. I'm pretty sure you mentioned that. Why? What's so special about Thaddeus Duke?

I shouldn't have asked. As soon as the words leave my lips he's bouncing around the porch like a maniac and screaming at the top of his lungs.

TYLER: He's AWESOME! He's really strong, and he's really fast, and he's funny!

RAVEN: I'm stronger than him, and faster... and the funny thing isn't even close.

TYLER: Nuh uh! He's the funniest.

RAVEN: Just wait until you understand grown up words. You'll think I'm a riot, kid. What else do you like about Thad?

TYLER: Have you ever seen his special move?! The bad guy tries to catch him, and then he leans back and kicks him! Right in the face! Like this!

Tyler rears back with a super kick to his phantom enemy and I smile. His forms not bad.

RAVEN: You know, I do literally the exact same move. I've been using it since you were a baby.

TYLER: Nuh-uh! His is cooler. His hands are down here, then he goes like... BAM!

Tyler throws the kick again and I just smile at him. What more can I do than try to be a good sport about it; he's 6, of course he relates to the minor running around the XWF. How old is Duke, anyways? Am I going to get arrested for child abuse or anything?

Yes, I'll try and be a good sport about it, but that doesn't mean I won't try and get off the Thaddeus subject.

RAVEN: Mom told me you guys are moving. How do you feel about that?

TYLER: Yeah, we're moving in to Daniels house. He's a doctor.

RAVEN: Sort of. He's a surgeon. He's not as smart as a doctor.

TYLER: Oh. Well his house that were gonna live in? It's huge! Like as big as a whole city!

RAVEN: OK, no way it's that big. I'm sure mine is bigger. Giggity.

TYLER: And he's really nice, too! We go to football games, and he said he'll take me to see the Coyotes when hockey starts!

That almost shatters me. I couldn't care less that someone is banging my ex wife. Good for them. I can even stomach her moving Tyler into his house if you give me some time to adjust. The idea of those bonding moments being shared with someone else, though; someone that's taking over as the main influence in his life... that's absolutely soul crushing.

TYLER: What's wrong daddy? Why do you look sad?

RAVEN: I'm not sad. I just missed you, buddy. That's all.

TYLER: Are you sure? You look sad.

I lift a hand to my face and wipe the forming tears from my eyes as I look away from my son. I feel blindsided. I feel helpless. Mia hid this from me until the last possible second and now there's nothing I can do to change it. Obviously that was her plan all along. I try to steady my breathing and not gasp or sob in front of him. He doesn't need to worry about me.

RAVEN: I'm not sad, Tyler. I promise. It was just a long trip getting here.

Tyler nods slowly, as if he understands my subtext. He steps forward on the porch and throws his arms around my waist in an enormous bear hug. The tighter he squeezes me the more I struggle not to break down entirely.

Suddenly the screen door swings open, causing my heart to skip a beat. Mia is standing there with a slightly uneasy look on her face as she looks at Tyler first and then into my eyes.

MIA: Is everything OK out here?

TYLER: Daddy doesn't feel good. He's tired.

MIA: What? Are you OK?

RAVEN: Totally fine, yeah. Nothings wrong, he just- I just- it's a long story.

She looks relieved. It couldn't be more obvious that she doesn't want me to stay, but I can't figure out why.

MIA: Well, glad to hear it's nothing serious. Maybe you should go check into a hotel and lay down for a bit? You can come back and see Tyler for a little while tomorrow or something before you head back?

I stare at her incredulously.

RAVEN: Come on, Mia. Are you for real right now?

MIA: What?

RAVEN: I travelled internationally to get here, I've been here 20 minutes, and you're already ushering me out! What the hell?!

MIA: JAMES! Language!

She motions towards Tyler angrily, but li'l guy is playing it cool like he didn't even hear me. She's not buying it. She kneels down and pulls Tyler into her arms, kissing him on the forehead.

MIA: Why don't you go inside and get ready for dinner? I need to talk to your dad before he goes, then you can come out and say goodnight.

Tyler groans but nods his head and dutifully heads through the screen door and into the house. I don't let Mia get the first word in once he's gone.

RAVEN: For fucks sake, Mia. I travel eight hours and you won't give me one to see him? Why are you forcing me out like this? I thought we were doing OK? We live our separate lives, I send you more than enough money to cover everything you need, we've communicated about getting him up to Toronto and when I could take him on trips... what did I do to make you throw it all out the window?

MIA: You're reading too much into this, James.

RAVEN: I'm not!

MIA: You are! Stop being so over dramatic, Jesus. You're right, things have been fine. This doesn't mean anything in the grand scheme of things, James... I'm just saying that right now, I think it's best if you go for the night. We have to eat dinner, and pack.

Her eyes dart up the street, and it's at that moment that the pieces finally click together for me.

RAVEN: He's coming over, isn't he?

MIA: Who?

She was never a strong actress. The waver in her voice and subconscious twirl of her hair betray her.

RAVEN: Daniel. David. Whatever the fuck his name is. The surgeon you're moving my son in with. He's coming here, and you want me out to make your life a little easier. Fuck inconveniencies for anyone else, you don't want to see conflict. Right?

She stops fighting with me.

MIA: Yes.

RAVEN: When's he supposed to be here?

MIA: Soon.

RAVEN: Un-fucking-believable. Why do I have to hide from him? Tyler is my kid, I paid for-

My words are drowned out by the deep roar of a car engine down the block. After a second a black sports car peels around the corner at likely illegal speed and makes its way towards us.

RAVEN: That's him isn't it?

MIA: Shit.

RAVEN: I'll take that as a yes.

The car pulls up in front of the house, its driver hidden behind tinted windows. Enjoy the anonymity while it lasts fuck face, and get'cha popcorn everyone... it's about to go down.

Jesus titty-fucking Christ, Thaddeus. You're a frustrating kid to talk to.

I honestly don't know whether to roast you for all the shit you got wrong, or take you under my wing and try to teach you how to not let it happen again. For starters you based half your promo on the assumption that anything coming out of my whore ex-wifes mouth is truthful, and believed that using it against me might push some kind of nuclear button.

Misfire, kind sir. I'm more than used to her misleading, self-favoring, home-spun bull shit... but at least she delivers it to me with some balls.

Remember the last time I was here, when we talked about how you refuse to do any research to come up with anything useful or interesting to say, and how you just regurgitate (or flat out invent) bullshit that makes you look like a 'tard? M'kay well let's start here; what father with shared custody have you ever heard of that travels internationally and hangs out in a hotel room somewhere when it's his turn to see his kid? I see Tyler plenty, but he comes to me in Toronto. Why?

Because Toronto is better than Phoenix, and I'm rich as shit and have cooler stuff at my house than his mom has at hers. That's pretty much it.

Sure I fly into Phoenix for the occasional event, or to pick him up and take him on a vacation... but do you realize how many different cities I land and drive around in each month? YOU try landing blind in the desert and trying to remember which cactus lined dirt road you can turn down without hitting Mexico.

It's pretty well documented that Tyler lives with me a good portion out of the year, and I've said multiple times that I haven't seen him in person since March and that might be the longest it's ever been. Go ahead. Keep trying to tell everyone I'm the worst father in the world, try to make it look like I've been a deadbeat for a year, and reblog my ex's fake news for the world to see and hope it scores you some brownie points with the fans. Your determination to shift so much of the focus from our legitimate athletic competition to my personal life speaks volumes about your confidence.

You may want to work on that.

It's not the type of man you want to grow up to be.

See Thaddeus, that's called a segue. My next topic is your age, so I built a clever little bridge that connected the two ideas. Consider using one next time you flood one of your Warfare opponents, instead of just driving the car off a cliff at the end of each paragraph.

I don't underestimate you in the slightest, Thaddeus. Not because of your age or anything else. I laugh at you and mock you because of your age, yes, I put very little stock into your opinions on life, love or the universe because of your age, yes... but I don't underestimate you. I know full well you'll be the toughest singles match I've had since returning... but that doesn't change the fact that pound for pound you're the seventh best competitor I've lined up with in those two months. Doc, Chaos, Caedus, Theo, Samuels, Madison... I'll line 'em up, you tell me where you think you belong amongst those guys. I'll let you know if you're right after I mop the canvas with you on Saturday.

It's all well and good that you beat Doc and Chaos on your second attempt, but my point in comparing us was that I didn't need those mulligans. THAT'S the difference between being good and being great, Thaddeus. You can't have Dolly's cake and eat it too, and tell everyone your age means nothing but then fall back on it as the reason you lost key matches. The greats don't lose those matches, regardless of age, and if they do they damn well win the next big one.

I won my first world title in my first attempt when I was 18, and as much as you may question their validity I've stacked win after win on top of that one for the better part of a decade.

We all know you're good Thaddeus, but you're not me. You haven't seen the things I've seen or learned the tricks that I've learned, and we've seen you fold when you have no cards left to play.

Yes, I'm flesh and blood and bone, but I'm more than that. I'm the GOAT. I know you all think that's a crown of arrogance, but it means more. There's a power that it provides. On Saturday night, Thaddeus, I assure you there will be a moment... when you've tasted more power than you believed I had, when your breath is short and your bones are broken, when your Xtreme title is gone from your grasp and the walls of your vision are closing in on you... you'll realize the punk kid has been put back in his place once again, and that it's time to go back to the drawing board.

You'll realize you really do fear the Raven.

I'll still take that picture for my son, though.