Post by Mr. PerpetuaLynch Motion on Oct 22, 2015 14:53:23 GMT -5
Part 19: Party and ballyhoo
As I walked through the curtain and pulled my fight gloves off my hand I became keenly aware of my surroundings all of a sudden. Like a veil of fuzziness had just been lifted off of me. It finally sunk in what I had slung over my shoulder. My first championship ever. This strap of leather and gold, this symbol of excellence. This was now a symbol of my excellence, my greatness. I just cemented myself in WFWF history. For the rest of eternity, Lucas Crowe’s name will be immortalized in the annals of great champions. And yet walking through that curtain was a shock to my system.
None of the boys were back there to congratulate me on making history. This was the biggest night of my career thus far. My face was on the poster, I was in the main event, final match on the card and I just won my first championship and there I was, ignored by my peers. I felt slighted, I felt disrespected but most of all I could feel my blood boiling with rage. Looking down at my championship I couldn’t help but feel like this was the red headed step child title. The one that no one wants. Winning it was no real cause for celebration. I might as well have won a piece of paper and some tin foil. *POP!*
I looked up and coming towards me was Justin Tyme and in his hand was a bottle of champagne and he was wearing the biggest smile on his face I’ve seen since I met the guy.
Look out everybody because your NEWWWWW reigning, defending WFWF National Champion is…. HEEEEEEEERE!
Justin shakes the champagne bottle and begins dousing me with champagne. He then takes a swig and embraces me with a hug like a proud father. Taking a step back, he looks down at the gold I’ve got in my hands.
Now isn’t this a beautiful piece of hardware? I mean just look at it. And, if you don’t mind my saying, gold is definitely your colour. Congratulations champ.
I sling the title back over my shoulder, smiling. Justin is so charismatic and powerful that he has a tendency to erase any sort of ill thoughts that may have been running through my head. Justin clangs the now three quarter empty champagne bottle off the title belt and proceeds to chug the remainder. He looks down at the empty bottle, shrugs and tosses it into a nearby garbage can.
Ah, I nabbed that from one of the luxury boxes. Cheap crap anyways. Come my friend, I’ve got better stuff set up in your locker room. It’s time for a celebration!
Justin waves his arm in front of him in an “after you” type motion. I swear I’ve never seen Justin as hyperactive and happy as he is at this moment. He would yell at tech guys as we approached them to make way for the champ. He was drumming with his hands on gear boxes as we went by them. As we approached my locker room he even jumped on my back for a piggy back ride which was strange but I obliged him. His mood was infectious to be certain.
When I opened the door to my locker room I was blown away. There was three barrels filled with ice with seven or eight bottles of champagne in them each. On the far end of the wall was a “NEW WFWF NATIONAL CHAMPION, LUCAS CROWE” banner. There were balloons and streamers and I just couldn’t believe it. Justin patted me on the shoulder upon entering the room.
To say I anticipated your victory may be a bit of an understatement my friend.
Justin reached into one of the barrels, grabbed a bottle of champagne and tossed it to me.
This is your night champ, so enjoy it. I’ll let you change out of your gear and then we are going to party until they kick us out of the building.
Justin excused himself from the room. As I sit down at my locker and begin untying my boots I hear my phone in my gear bag begin to buzz. I pull it out and see that it’s Amy calling me. I stare at the picture for a few moments as the phone buzzes in my hand. For some reason though I did not feel even remotely compelled to answer her. I got the feeling that all she was going to do was try to stick another wedge between Justin and I when that man deserves all of the credit for why I’m here right now with this gold around my waist. This crap with Amy is just going to go in circles where I gravitate back towards her, she tells me some lies about Justin which makes me question Justin’s intentions. Justin then says something about Amy which pisses me off but he eventually makes me realize that he’s the only one that cares about the trajectory of my career. Only one other than me. I’m going to nip this in the bud right now.
I hit the reject call button, turn my phone off and toss it back in my bag. I pop the cork on the bottle of champagne, take a big swig and continue changing out of my gear.
Part 20: The Clockwork Angels
Justin and I are now on our… I don’t know sixth or seventh bottle of champagne each? I lost count. Arena security came in a handful of time to let us know we have to leave but each time Justin and I just look at each other and laugh at the suggestion. I’m the new National Champion and Justin has enough money to buy and sell these peons so they’re going to need more than that to cut off this celebration.
So at what point when you met me did you see this as being possible JT?
Honest truth? The moment I saw you choke that bunghole out in front of that bar you worked at. I remember thinking that if we put the right mind behind this guy and if we tightened up some loose ends that this man was a bonafide star. And you didn’t disappoint my friend.
Justin raises his bottle in a toast which I’m happy to oblige him in. That was probably the one millionth time we’ve toasted but whatever.
So where do we go now boss?
Well there are two answers to that question. There’s the short term answer for what’s next and there is the long term answer for where we go from here.
Alright well how about we start with the short term first.
Well for that the answer is I acquired a match for you at the next show. It’s a non-title proving ground type deal. Against Zoe Schaefer.
I can’t help but shake my head and laugh.
Y’know Justin this is like the fourth woman you’ve got me a match with. It took me by surprise the first time you did it but at this point I’m thinking I should expect it from you.
Trust me, that’s just how the cards crumble… or the cookie falls. I can’t remember the saying. Anyways, the women in WFWF are top notch competitors and Zoe is a hungry newcomer that is fresh off a loss to Jon Gotch.
That Gotch guy won a match? Well streaks are meant to be broken I guess.
Yeah, tell that to the Chicago Cubs. Anyways, one of two things is going to happen with Miss Schaefer’s psyche following that loss. Number one, being the lone person thus far to lose to an individual is going to absolutely shatter her psyche.
Mmm I seem to recall she’s got some sort of Japanese ancestry so I feel like that’s not very likely. What’s number two?
Well number two would be she’s going to fire the
up and come at you all guns blazing and look to take down the new WFWF National Champion. Show everyone that one loss doesn’t define her and that she deserves a shot at your title somewhere down the line.I didn’t even have to weigh those options in my head. I take another rather large swig of champagne.
Yeah that sounds like the more likely scenario. So what are you thinking for a game plan then?
Well champ I seem to recall you saying you don’t want any more of those printed scouting reports.
Yeah I think we’ve progressed past that point. From now on I want direct access to you to pick your brain.
Justin appears to ponder for a moment. He glances down at the title in my lap and then looks me in the eye.
I think I can be able to accommodate this request from the champion.
Justin raises his bottle again for yet another toast.
Alright so here’s the thing. Because of her situation right now she is going to come flying out of the gate. As soon as that bell rings she is going to begin throwing everything she can your way. So the first step would be to weather that storm.
I begin making a mental checklist of these ideas. Justin Tyme is one of the best minds in the business. People don’t know it because his resume doesn’t reflect it but from the time I’ve spent with him, this is irrefutable fact.
I seem to recall that she is actually a quite proficient striker. She has lethal kicks and a pretty gnarly elbow smash.
… did you just say gnarly?
Yes I did, I guess crap like that just falls out of my mouth sometimes. But there is no other way to put it really. If she wanted to I’m sure she could knock you out with one of her elbow smashes. It’s dangerous, don’t eat one.
Another big checkmark beside “avoid ‘gnarly’ elbow smash.”
But as with most of these matches against the women I always have and always will come back to the biggest advantage that you have on them as a means of counteracting their everything. You are a near seven foot tall, three hundred and ten pound
ing behemoth. She stands at five foot nothing and probably weighs less than your c**k. Being able to have extended conversations with Justin Tyme made me realize that his mouth is worse than mine. For a rich guy he has a distinct lack of manners and I love it, it makes a hoodrat like me still be able to feel comfortable around the guy. I get the feeling that he can be who he really is around me, he doesn’t have to tone himself down for the boardroom when I’m around.
So you’re saying that she’s a proficient striker but that I don’t really need to be concerned about that?
I’m saying that if she attempts to go for a high roundhouse kick to your big bald head, you’re going to see it coming from a mile away, knee bar her and rip her leg off. Then you’ll have dinner for that night.
I nod in full approval of that particular phrasing as I begin to imagine that visual. It’s pretty satisfying I must admit. I’m on top of the world right now, no one can touch me.
Now don’t get me wrong, I am not saying that she isn’t a credible threat because if you let your guard down then she is fully capable of elbowing your nose bone into your brain. But I am saying that if you keep it simple and don’t try to match her pace she’s going to find that she’s going to have to change her strategy. And that’s when she’s going to make a mistake. From there, you prove why you’re the National Champion.
Sounds like a rock solid game plan to me boss.
Taking another swig from my bottle of champagne, I finish the rest of it off. I stare at the National Championship again. Every time I look at it, it holds my gaze for longer and longer. I’m already starting to forget what it was like not having it.
Alright boss well where do we go from here in terms of the long term?
We make you the longest reigning, most dominant WFWF National Champion in the history of the company.
This almost took me by surprise. I had no intentions of ever losing this title but even still, I’ve only held this thing for less than five hours at this point and Justin is already talking about breaking the record for the longest reigning WFWF National champion.
That is a mighty ambitious goal boss.
I didn’t bring you into this business to take part or be a small blip in the title history on the WFWF website. I brought you in because I know that you are more than capable of being the brightest star in the sky. All you need is to surround yourself with all the right people.
Well I already have the greatest mind in the business behind me.
That is true but you are going to need more than my great mind and your great strength. You need strength in numbers.
I clearly didn’t hide my bewilderment very well. The notion of strength in numbers was a foreign one to me. I have proven in my short tenure here that I don’t exactly work well in team type situations. Then again those were instances where external forces from my core camp were deciding on my partner and no one outside of me and Justin know how I tick. I’m intrigued by Justin’s suggestion.
Strength in numbers? What are we talking about here JT?
I’ve taken the liberty of dubbing us The Clockwork Angels.
I dug the name. Especially in a sort of irony sense because the way we’re going to operate this thing I have a hunch will be the furthest thing from what could be considered ‘angelic’.
I like the sounds of it. Who are we looking at for being part of this thing?
I will take the title of “The Watchmaker”. I will be the one meticulously planning every move obviously. I will make sure that this machine stays three moves ahead of everyone else. Keeping track of the time as we tick towards day number two hundred of your title reign.
The time related motif is not lost on me considering the man’s name is Justin Tyme.
You will be known as the group’s Anarchist. You will be the main offensive force obviously since you are the champ. You will be the one orchestrating attacks, provoking people to upset the balance and draw attention on that National Championship.
Justin pats the gold that is back to being slung over my shoulder.
For far too long that belt has been considered an afterthought, a tertiary belt, a place holder and a means to placate the lower card scrubs. Not anymore. You are going to use that championship as a means to upset the established order. Eliminate the people that have become complacent. You are going to be the WFWF’s agent of chaos. We’re going to turn this place on its head.
And the other members?
Now for obvious reasons I couldn’t recruit within the WFWF locker room for fear of this plan getting out. Ruins the element of surprise. I’m playing this one close to the chest but I have dubbed them as The Wreckers. And rest assured, when this plan comes into play you’re going to understand why I’ve decided to call them such. What do you think?
Well boss, I’m thinking that the WFWF has no idea what it’s in store for. I think that for far too long the people that have held this belt have just accepted that they are beneath the International and World champion. That changes now, it changes with me. I’m not just gunning for two hundred plus days holding this belt. I will not be satisfied until the WFWF World champion and the WFWF International champion are laying at my feet and acknowledging that this belt is superior to the pieces of scrap metal that they hold.
Justin puts his hand on my shoulder and has that giant Cheshire, car salesmen-esque grin on his face.
The worst thing that could have happened to this locker room has happened now. Before this I had lingering doubt. Doubt in what I was doing, doubt in my abilities. Doubt in whether I can attain any of the goals you had set in front of me. I accomplished number one now and I’ve got full confidence in myself now. I was tearing through this place before, just wait until you see what comes next.
The locker room door bursts open and three of the arena security plus two more police officers file into the room. They start throwing words like possible trespassing charges around if we didn’t vacate the premise. Justin and I looked at each other, shrugged our shoulders, and grabbed another bottle of champagne on the way out the locker room door.
I’m incredibly excited about the prospects of everything coming down the pipe. I’m excited about this Clockwork Angels idea of Justin’s, I’ve fired myself up on the value of this National Championship. Now I just have to hit the gym harder than I ever have and become an even better fighting machine than I already am. After two hundred days with this belt, it’s not going to matter who is holding any of the other titles in the WFWF. Drakz could still be World Champion for all I care. They will have no choice but to acknowledge my undisputed greatness.
