Everything was so hazy at first…
In the distance, I saw myself in a board meeting, and I was CEO, my eyes glowing with pride. Shadows parted way, and I suddenly saw myself on a date with a perfect 10, confident, stylish, leaning in for a first kiss. But the fog returned, and when it cleared, I was in a WWE ring, counting to three as Jeff Hardy won the U.S. Championship from Jinder Mahal in the Superstar Shake-up.
My first encounter with Madame Ursula at her private residence above Hot Shotz Lazer Tag and Fun Center was life-changing in many ways. My usual, ever-present anxiety instantly seemed to dissipate, replaced by a warm, comforting feeling in my chest. Likewise, my body felt limber and strong. But I still didn’t know why exactly I saw a major title-change that had never happened…at least, not yet.
However, Madame Ursula’s powers truly hit me the following night when my vision of Hardy’s victory came to fruition. It was then that I learned the price of enlightenment was not her standard $200-per-session fee, but the burden of spoiling my only source of unadulterated happiness on this Earth: WWE Raw.
Failed by “health experts,” “healing crystals,” and “spiritual advisors,” I felt as if Madame Ursula’s brand of rejuvenation was the only path left on my quest for inner peace. So, begrudgingly, I returned to her crystal ball, but under one condition: no more Raw spoilers. I even said I’d accept spoilers for WWE Smackdown or 205 Live, but alas, she told me, “That’s not how this works.”
The next thing I knew, I saw myself getting down on one knee, proposing to the woman in my previous vision. The clouds swirled around me again, revealing me holding my future firstborn. But then, it all went dark, and an all-too-familiar phrase stopped me in my tracks: “Ladies and Gentlemen… Elias…”
Before I knew it, Roman Reigns and Jinder Mahal were fighting; Seth Rollins was hitting dudes with a chair like a straight-up heel, and then Elias returned to smash Rollins with a guitar. How could this be happening?
I awoke shortly after and tried to forget what I had seen. And, as the days progressed, my life started to get significantly better. I felt easier in my own skin, my social skills improved, and it seemed like I was really turning heads with my work at the office. Unfortunately, I sat down to watch the latest episode of Raw, and it was exactly as I had seen. Hell, I didn’t even get the good stuff ruined for me, like that weird Braun Strowman/Finn Balor feud that’s basically IRL Looney Tunes.
Is this the curse I must live with to finally attain inner-light?
On the one hand, I had never felt more focused and driven in my life, with my inhibitions torn asunder in my voyage into the untold recesses of my mind. On the other hand, could I truly live without my favorite brand of sports-related entertainment? How can I expect myself to live happily ever after knowing that every pinfall, every Dusty finish, and every swerve would be ruined for me, week in and week out? Would the WWE Universe forgive me? Would I be able to forgive myself?
Although the rewards of my sessions with Madame Ursula have been many, including winning lottery numbers, a healthier sex life, and the combination to the third-floor private break room, my secrets weigh heavily on my mind. I now feel like a modern-day Icarus, flying too close to the sun as I see Bo Dallas and Curtis Axel winning the tag team battle royale to become the number one contenders in the WWE Tag Team Championships. I plummet back to a cruel, unforgiving Earth.