Post by King Richius on Feb 19, 2020 5:52:14 GMT -5
Prologue: Be Careful What You Wish For
After months of running my mouth about being the new constant of the WFWF…
After months of ultimatums and blackmail attempts on management and Drakz…
After months of feeling like it would never happen…
I got what I wanted.
Drakz.
World Champion versus International Champion for all the marbles.
Cliché time: Two men enter. One man walks out as THE MAN in the WFWF and the other… doesn’t.
Really don’t need to say any more than that. We’re both competitors and champions who hold ourselves to a higher standard. Fighting for titles is what we are built for. It’s what we do and we do it better than anybody else in the WFWF. Our records speak for themselves.
But there is more to it than just being the better wrestler… the better champion… the constant of the WFWF.
Cliché time, part II: It’s personal!
Drakz violated the sanctity of my home, stole one of my most valued possessions, and used it as a weapon against Tugarin Zmey.
Any one of those acts would be enough to fire me up. All three and I’m almost literally breathing fire in anticipation of our match.
I wanted this.
I wanted it so bad I crossed lines I didn’t think I could. I put my career on the line just to get the opportunity.
Imagine the leader of the Revolution telling Lila give me the match or I walk.
Imagine the leader of the Revolution and his manager putting their hands on Lila and Kash in a final act of defiance.
Imagine the leader of the Revolution bringing five “bodyguards” with him to deliver a message to the champ, an ultimatum overtly laced with threats of imminent violence.
I have no regrets. Its how the business works. I did what I had to. I’d do it again.
I want Drakz in the ring that damn bad.
Cliché time, part III: Put up or shut up.
So now it comes down to two men going at it in the ring to determine who is the best.
Exactly the way it should be.
We already know I’m the better man.
At Survival of the Fittest, we’ll find out if I’m the better wrestler.
I wanted the ultimate test of my wrestling skills. I’m going to get it from Drakz.
And I’m going to give it back in spades.
Drakz is in for one hell of a fight.
Survival of the Fittest RP
Put Up or Shut Up
featuring Frank Lynn
”If you won’t pass the torch then I’ll just have to take it.”
- Frank Lynn
Framingham, MA : 2/16/20
Prison Walls
The Impala is in quite the state of disrepair. Up on blocks, hood and doors removed, leaning against the wall waiting for their turn while my mechanic and his team work on the engine. Drakz did a number on the car when he attacked Tugarin. George and company are slowly undoing it, restoring the Impala to it’s former glory.
I’ll have my perfect memory of Paulie back, but it will be forever tarnished by that bastard Drakz.
Drakz was here!
Daphne stands beside me, the two of us taking a break from training.
I know Paulie meant a lot to you, but I don’t think I ‘ll ever understand the love affair men have with their cars. Are you using Paulie’s memory as an excuse to keep this gas guzzling beast around instead of driving a nice sensible hybrid?
Daphne’s a greenie, an eco friendly tree hugger? Who knew?
It’s the last thing I have of his. It’s so much more than a car but I don’t expect anyone other than me to understand that.
Daphne looks at me quizzically. She’s trying to understand but as I said, unless she had the special relationship I had with Paulie she will fail.
He was more than a coach, more than a friend, possibly even more than a father.
Fathers have their duties thrust upon them, often involuntarily due to a broken condom or not pulling out in time or not giving a sh*t about the consequences of their actions. People like Paulie who step in to fill a father's role are truly special. They don’t have to do what they do, but they do it anyway because they truly care.
That curmudgeonly old man loved me and I loved him in return. He helped make me into the man I am today. Without him I would definitely not be where I am today, about to face Drakz not only for both of our titles but if we’re being honest, for control of the WFWF. One of us WILL BE the constant, the man who makes everybody else dance on puppet strings trying to be us.
Without Paulie, I’m probably in prison trying to not bend over for the soap.
You know what I remember most about Paulie?
I don’t wait for an answer. I don’t really want one.
How he took a character from Rocky that touched him deeply and became that person in real life. I never knew Paulie before he saw Rocky… obviously. It was damn near twenty years before I was born. By the time my mother took me to his gym and he took me under his wing, he was fully transformed into a character, somehow a better person because of it.
Others might have laughed at him, writing hm off as something of an idiot. Not me. He was always looking for ways to be a better man. If mimicking a movie character was part of the process then I say more power to him.
We walk away form the Impala, out of the garage part of the barn into the gym part. I keep on reminiscing as we climb the ladder to the loft overlooking the ring, sit on the edge dangling our legs into the air and generally acting like two kids trying to avoid their chores.
Growing up without a father was rough. I had to live up to a role model my mother had sold to me as being the perfect male, a good man who died tragically trying to do the right thing. Turns out to be not so true but that’s a story for another time.
I could never live up to the ideal father my mother kept telling me about so I rebelled, like any normal teenager would. I was going down the wrong path, heading for trouble… serious trouble.
Then I started working with Paulie. He knew his sh*t and made me a better fighter but more importantly, he got me on the right track. Instilled a sense of morals and a purpose to my life that would not end with me in prison.
Sounds like a very special man. I think I’m starting to get it, why you would be so angry that Drakz took the car. It’s not about the car. Never was. It’s about the memories. Drakz took a piss on your memories of Paulie.
She is getting it. That’s what I like about Daphne. She is most definitely a woman but she is also a wrestler and that allows her to read men’s minds a little better than other women. Wrestling, despite any women’s revolution people might go on about, is still a male dominated business. Daphne has a fair amount of testosterone in her system purely by osmosis.
So what pisses you off more about what Drakz did? Is it that he stole Paulie’s car? That he broke into your home and threatened your family? That he is completely remorseless about what he did?
All of it! I’ve never felt so violated. And I want it to stop. I don’t like this feeling of paranoia and helplessness he instilled in me. I have to do something about it. I MUST do something about it.
Daphne takes a long look at me. I can almost hear the gears grinding in her head as she tries to think up the prefect words to motivate me even more for the match at Survival of the Fittest.
You will.
I doubt you knew just how important this match would be when you first started lobbying Lila for a title match. It was just about getting your shot at the top WFWF title, testing yourself against the best, and showing that you belonged on the Mount Rushmore of the WFWF right alongside Drakz.
But it’s become so much more. It’s a test of your manhood. Can you do what every great warrior has done in the past? Can you defend your home and family from a barbaric invader?
Perhaps a bit overdramatic but right on the mark. I’ve turn my home into a prison because of Drakz. High brick walls, top of the line security system, even got a trained attack dog.
I’ve changed my life because of Drakz. And God help me if he ever finds out. He’ll elevate his mind games to a point that I may not be able to handle. I’m already walking a razor’s edge. All it would take is a little push and I’m falling off the edge.
Frank, you can do this. You’ve come so far since those early matches against Drakz where, let’s be honest, he owned you. He no longer owns you. You are the longest reigning International Champion for a reason. You are that damn good. You are ready to fight Drakz on equal ground, beat his ass down, take his title, and send him into retirement.
And then not only will your family be safe once again but you can work on becoming the greatest World Heavyweight Champion the WFWF has ever seen.
Because beating Drakz and retiring him isn’t enough. If you want to truly break the bastard, you have to make people forget him.
Indeed, this match isn’t the end. It’s the beginning.
The beginning of my reign as the top champion in the WFWF.
The beginning of my complete dismantling of the legacy of Drakz.
The end doesn’t come until I’m old and gray sipping lemonade on the porch in my rocker, basking in the afterglow of a career that’s put everything Drakz did to shame.
I need to take EVERYTHING form the bastard like he’s tried to do to so many people before me.
In my exuberance, I leap off the loft into the ring, a modest fifteen foot drop no worse than jumping off a ladder onto Whitner and Draven.
Stupid!
I feel a twinge of pain in my knee as I land awkwardly. I quickly regain my balance and hide it as best I can from Daphne. If she noticed, she doesn’t say anything as we resume the training session. I get through it just fine but there is a dull throb in my knee the entire time.
Dammit! Stupid! I hope I didn’t do serious damage.
*
Later…
*
There’s nothing quite like that feeling you get after a satisfying meal. I’ve migrated from the dinner table to my office to study some film, my stomach quite happy with Sarah’s steak and potatoes dinner… a true man’s meal. None of that fish with a fried egg on top and kale sh*t for me. I want protein and carbs.
Sarah strolls into the office having finished seeing to our daughter. Laura is becoming a handful now that she is talking and walking. For the record, her first word was “Champ”. Smart girl.
Trotting alongside Sarah obediently is Rex, an eighty pound German Shepard trained to rip the throat out of anybody who would dare to threaten me, Sarah, or our daughter. Hell, he gets along with Doctor Claw so he might defend the cat too.
Another change in my home life caused by Drakz, but in the end a welcome one as Rex is becoming a valued member of the family. And this is from someone who hates dogs because most are dumb as a rock drool machines who can’t take a sh*t without an escort.
I hope that’s more footage of Drakz that you’re studying. You need to watch every match he’s ever had, learn every trick he’s ever pulled. This is the most important match of your career and I want you to win.
The irony isn’t lost on me. Sarah is usually the one trying to keep me grounded, telling me my next match isn’t the most important match of my life. Telling me to cut back a little on the training and remember to be a husband and father as well as a wrestler.
You should be more careful in your training. Did you think you could hide that limp, however slight, from me? I know you too well. Please tell me it’s from pushing too hard and not from doing something stupid like jumping off the loft into the ring?
Was she watching or does she know me that well?
You don’t have to worry. I’m fine.
I will beat Drakz. I’m coming home from Manchester as the new WFWF World Heavyweight Champion.
Sarah grabs my chair and spins it around violently so that I am looking up at her. She wraps her hands around my neck and the back of my head, pulling me close. There is an intensity in her eyes, she wants something.
I like where this is heading.
That’s when she speaks low and slow, almost snarling as she spits out her words.
I don’t give a damn about the titles, not the International or World Heavyweight title. That’s your thing, not mine.
What I do care about is you kicking Drakz’ ass so bad he never comes anywhere near our family ever again. I will not have my daughter’s safety put at risk by that psycho bastard.
Sarah is pacing, arms flailing as she “speaks with her hands”, something she rarely does as she is one of the most in control people I have ever met.
Drakz was here.
Don’t you wonder if he came up to the back door and thought about taking something more important than a car? What sick thoughts did he have as he watched our little girl?
Our daughter who cannot defend herself from Drakz!
I can’t defend myself against Drakz. I have my doubts about Rex.
It’s up to you.
Drakz was right f***ing here!
Do something about it!
Where have I heard that before? Oh right, I’ve been saying it to myself for months!
Sarah isn’t done and discretion being the better part of valor, I keep my mouth shut while she vents.
I want you to put one hundred per cent into preparing for this match because when you get to Manchester I want you to destroy Drakz.
He crossed the line first. There is no limit to what you can and should do in return.
F*** your moral stance about bettering the business. This isn’t business. It’s personal. The line doesn’t exist anymore. You do whatever you have to to destroy that sick son of a bitch.
There a pregnant pause as she contemplates her next words very carefully, unsure whether she actually want to say them out loud.
If you don’t, you may come home to an empty house.
WHAT? Please don’t let her be serious.
You don’t really mean that. You wouldn’t leave me over a wrestling match?
This isn’t just another wrestling match. You aren’t trying for redemption in a ladder match at SuperBrawl. You aren’t defending your status against a returning veteran too full of himself to see that his time is past. It isn’t even about proving you are the best.
Good to know Sarah has been paying attention to my career. Sometimes she doesn’t show it, perhaps because she gets enough wrestling during the day from her work at Legacy, perhaps because most of the time she really does want me to be more of a good family man instead of a workout obsessed gym rat who values a leather belt with gold plates almost as much as he does his own wife and daughter.
All of which says a lot about the destruction Drakz can leave in his wake. He has managed to almost wreck my life in what was most likely an afterthought to his ongoing feud with Tugarin Zmey.
We’re not storied rivals like Drakz is with Zmey or Kyzer or Shannon and he is already wreaking havoc with my life.
Imagine what he could do when he does see me as a legitimate rival and threat to his seemingly endless title reign.
I have to nip that sh*t in the bud damn fast. He cannot be allowed to see me as someone he can toy with.
You have the chance to make sure Drakz stays out of our lives forever. Don’t screw it up because you don’t want to sink to his level. It takes a bastard to beat a bastard. I want you to be the dirtiest bastard to grace a WFWF ring if thats what it takes to end Drakz.
But you wouldn’t really leave if I lose? This is Drakz after all. I’ll need to have the match of my life to beat him.
Then you better have the match of your life and beat him within inch of his life. That way I won’t have to choose between you and the safety of our child.
Her expression softens as she has made her point most vociferously.
That she would even think about leaving is just another bullet point in the long list of reasons why I have to beat Drakz.
Don’t you worry about me, Laura, or anything else. I’ll take care of it all. Between now and Survival of the Fittest you have one job and one job only. Prepare for a war with Drakz that you damn well better win.
It’s rare that I see such intensity from Sarah but right now she is acting like a momma bear or lioness on a National Geographic special. One rule in nature: you f*** with a mother’s child and that mother will defend her child with a ferocity that is unmatched by any man or beast.
She puts my own rage at Drakz to shame.
I couldn’t have put it better myself. Drakz will pay for what he did to us. Don’t you worry about it.
I will be Sarah’s weapon, the focus through which her rage shall be unleashed on Drakz’ unsuspecting @$$.
For the first time, the Lethal Weapon is coming to a match intent on proving just how lethal I can be.
Drakz was here.
Drakz will pay.
There will be no mercy.
Manchester, England : 2/21/20
You Lit the Match
Darkness. A black so pure that the night sky would be jealous.
And then there is light. A match sparks to life. As it slowly burns down Frank Lynn’s voice breaks the silence.
This could have been easy. Two champions defending their titles to determine who is the best.
Pure combat sport at its very best.
But you lit the match.
The match continues to burn as it moves mysteriously through the unending darkness to light a fuse.
You invaded the sanctity of my home. I’ve kept my wrestling separate from my family for a damn good reason. I don’t trust any of you sons of bitches as far as I can throw you.
Now my home has become a prison complete with walls, cameras, and a guard dog.
My life OUTSIDE of wrestling has changed because of you.
I don’t like that… not one bit.
The fuse sparks as it burns down, now the only source of light in the dark as the match quickly died out after serving its purpose.
You stole something that holds deep personal meaning to me. You treated it like a steel chair, trash can, or baseball bat… cheapened a cherished memory by turning it into a weapon to use against Tugarin Zmey.
You might as well have sh*t on my face.
Paulie always preached a calm cool collected approach to any match. Let your opponent be the one to fall prey to his own emotions making him more likely to make a mistake that costs him the match.
I won’t do that this time.
I’m embracing the hate. I want to hurt you both physically and emotionally.
Problem is you’re such a self centered prick that there is only one thing I can think of that matters to you: the WFWF World Heavyweight Championship.
Possession of the title gives justification to all your arrogant douchebaggery.
Loss of the title always inspires you to come back even more vicious and sadistic than before.
Being World Champion defines you.
The fuse continues to burn as barely illuminated booted feet walk beside it.
That’s the difference between us. I defined the International Championship. The World Championship defined you.
I will still be Frank Lynn, the Lethal Weapon without my belt. People will still respect me and fear my in ring skills.
You will be an insignificant @$$hole without your belt. People will neither fear nor respect you once you lose the belt.
You already know this which is why you’ve stated that if you lose, you will retire. You are nothing without the belt and you simply cannot stand the idea of being nothing in front of a world wide audience of millions.
You’re worse than that attention whore Trace Demon. If something isn’t all about Drakz then it shouldn’t even exist at all. You can’t get rid of the WFWF so instead you’ll leave and pretend it doesn’t exist.
But you’re slipping and you know it. The dominant, unbeatable Drakz of five years ago is losing it.
It started after Penny Shannon revealed some of your cracks. You widened the cracks yourself by showing your fear in the days and weeks leading up to your matches with Kyzer and Zmey.
I’m going to tear away at the cracks, rip them wide open into chasms as big as the Grand Canyon so everyone can see the emptiness inside you.
You are nothing without the World Championship.
For what you’ve done to me and what you could do to my family I will reduce you to nothing.
The fuse burns down towards a bomb. As the last few inches of the fuse are consumed by sparks and flames a hand picks up the bomb and holds it in front of a face.
The face of Frank Lynn: cold, determined, and steely eyed. Barely suppressed anger not so patiently waiting to be released.
The last bit of the fuse fizzles out, leaving the bomb unexploded.
You lit the match that lit the fuse that will set off the bomb… but not today.
This bomb explodes at Survival of the Fittest.
Right.
In.
Your.
Stupid.
F***ing.
Face.
The darkness gives way to light showing Frank Lynn standing in the center of a wrestling ring with his manager Daphne standing behind him.
You made the biggest mistake of both your career and your life when you set foot on my land and stole my car.
You made it personal.
I will beat you not only to prove I’m the new constant of the WFWF but also to make sure you get the message that returning to the scene of your crime would be fatal.
There are no rules when it comes to defending my family, simply kill or be killed.
Survival of the Fittest.
The Lethal Weapon is coming for you Drakz. I will break you just like I broke Trace Demon. The World Title is icing on the cake.
Be afraid little man.
Be very very afraid.
Fade to black…
After months of running my mouth about being the new constant of the WFWF…
After months of ultimatums and blackmail attempts on management and Drakz…
After months of feeling like it would never happen…
I got what I wanted.
Drakz.
World Champion versus International Champion for all the marbles.
Cliché time: Two men enter. One man walks out as THE MAN in the WFWF and the other… doesn’t.
Really don’t need to say any more than that. We’re both competitors and champions who hold ourselves to a higher standard. Fighting for titles is what we are built for. It’s what we do and we do it better than anybody else in the WFWF. Our records speak for themselves.
But there is more to it than just being the better wrestler… the better champion… the constant of the WFWF.
Cliché time, part II: It’s personal!
Drakz violated the sanctity of my home, stole one of my most valued possessions, and used it as a weapon against Tugarin Zmey.
Any one of those acts would be enough to fire me up. All three and I’m almost literally breathing fire in anticipation of our match.
I wanted this.
I wanted it so bad I crossed lines I didn’t think I could. I put my career on the line just to get the opportunity.
Imagine the leader of the Revolution telling Lila give me the match or I walk.
Imagine the leader of the Revolution and his manager putting their hands on Lila and Kash in a final act of defiance.
Imagine the leader of the Revolution bringing five “bodyguards” with him to deliver a message to the champ, an ultimatum overtly laced with threats of imminent violence.
I have no regrets. Its how the business works. I did what I had to. I’d do it again.
I want Drakz in the ring that damn bad.
Cliché time, part III: Put up or shut up.
So now it comes down to two men going at it in the ring to determine who is the best.
Exactly the way it should be.
We already know I’m the better man.
At Survival of the Fittest, we’ll find out if I’m the better wrestler.
I wanted the ultimate test of my wrestling skills. I’m going to get it from Drakz.
And I’m going to give it back in spades.
Drakz is in for one hell of a fight.
Survival of the Fittest RP
Put Up or Shut Up
featuring Frank Lynn
”If you won’t pass the torch then I’ll just have to take it.”
- Frank Lynn
Framingham, MA : 2/16/20
Prison Walls
The Impala is in quite the state of disrepair. Up on blocks, hood and doors removed, leaning against the wall waiting for their turn while my mechanic and his team work on the engine. Drakz did a number on the car when he attacked Tugarin. George and company are slowly undoing it, restoring the Impala to it’s former glory.
I’ll have my perfect memory of Paulie back, but it will be forever tarnished by that bastard Drakz.
Drakz was here!
Daphne stands beside me, the two of us taking a break from training.
I know Paulie meant a lot to you, but I don’t think I ‘ll ever understand the love affair men have with their cars. Are you using Paulie’s memory as an excuse to keep this gas guzzling beast around instead of driving a nice sensible hybrid?
Daphne’s a greenie, an eco friendly tree hugger? Who knew?
It’s the last thing I have of his. It’s so much more than a car but I don’t expect anyone other than me to understand that.
Daphne looks at me quizzically. She’s trying to understand but as I said, unless she had the special relationship I had with Paulie she will fail.
He was more than a coach, more than a friend, possibly even more than a father.
Fathers have their duties thrust upon them, often involuntarily due to a broken condom or not pulling out in time or not giving a sh*t about the consequences of their actions. People like Paulie who step in to fill a father's role are truly special. They don’t have to do what they do, but they do it anyway because they truly care.
That curmudgeonly old man loved me and I loved him in return. He helped make me into the man I am today. Without him I would definitely not be where I am today, about to face Drakz not only for both of our titles but if we’re being honest, for control of the WFWF. One of us WILL BE the constant, the man who makes everybody else dance on puppet strings trying to be us.
Without Paulie, I’m probably in prison trying to not bend over for the soap.
You know what I remember most about Paulie?
I don’t wait for an answer. I don’t really want one.
How he took a character from Rocky that touched him deeply and became that person in real life. I never knew Paulie before he saw Rocky… obviously. It was damn near twenty years before I was born. By the time my mother took me to his gym and he took me under his wing, he was fully transformed into a character, somehow a better person because of it.
Others might have laughed at him, writing hm off as something of an idiot. Not me. He was always looking for ways to be a better man. If mimicking a movie character was part of the process then I say more power to him.
We walk away form the Impala, out of the garage part of the barn into the gym part. I keep on reminiscing as we climb the ladder to the loft overlooking the ring, sit on the edge dangling our legs into the air and generally acting like two kids trying to avoid their chores.
Growing up without a father was rough. I had to live up to a role model my mother had sold to me as being the perfect male, a good man who died tragically trying to do the right thing. Turns out to be not so true but that’s a story for another time.
I could never live up to the ideal father my mother kept telling me about so I rebelled, like any normal teenager would. I was going down the wrong path, heading for trouble… serious trouble.
Then I started working with Paulie. He knew his sh*t and made me a better fighter but more importantly, he got me on the right track. Instilled a sense of morals and a purpose to my life that would not end with me in prison.
Sounds like a very special man. I think I’m starting to get it, why you would be so angry that Drakz took the car. It’s not about the car. Never was. It’s about the memories. Drakz took a piss on your memories of Paulie.
She is getting it. That’s what I like about Daphne. She is most definitely a woman but she is also a wrestler and that allows her to read men’s minds a little better than other women. Wrestling, despite any women’s revolution people might go on about, is still a male dominated business. Daphne has a fair amount of testosterone in her system purely by osmosis.
So what pisses you off more about what Drakz did? Is it that he stole Paulie’s car? That he broke into your home and threatened your family? That he is completely remorseless about what he did?
All of it! I’ve never felt so violated. And I want it to stop. I don’t like this feeling of paranoia and helplessness he instilled in me. I have to do something about it. I MUST do something about it.
Daphne takes a long look at me. I can almost hear the gears grinding in her head as she tries to think up the prefect words to motivate me even more for the match at Survival of the Fittest.
You will.
I doubt you knew just how important this match would be when you first started lobbying Lila for a title match. It was just about getting your shot at the top WFWF title, testing yourself against the best, and showing that you belonged on the Mount Rushmore of the WFWF right alongside Drakz.
But it’s become so much more. It’s a test of your manhood. Can you do what every great warrior has done in the past? Can you defend your home and family from a barbaric invader?
Perhaps a bit overdramatic but right on the mark. I’ve turn my home into a prison because of Drakz. High brick walls, top of the line security system, even got a trained attack dog.
I’ve changed my life because of Drakz. And God help me if he ever finds out. He’ll elevate his mind games to a point that I may not be able to handle. I’m already walking a razor’s edge. All it would take is a little push and I’m falling off the edge.
Frank, you can do this. You’ve come so far since those early matches against Drakz where, let’s be honest, he owned you. He no longer owns you. You are the longest reigning International Champion for a reason. You are that damn good. You are ready to fight Drakz on equal ground, beat his ass down, take his title, and send him into retirement.
And then not only will your family be safe once again but you can work on becoming the greatest World Heavyweight Champion the WFWF has ever seen.
Because beating Drakz and retiring him isn’t enough. If you want to truly break the bastard, you have to make people forget him.
Indeed, this match isn’t the end. It’s the beginning.
The beginning of my reign as the top champion in the WFWF.
The beginning of my complete dismantling of the legacy of Drakz.
The end doesn’t come until I’m old and gray sipping lemonade on the porch in my rocker, basking in the afterglow of a career that’s put everything Drakz did to shame.
I need to take EVERYTHING form the bastard like he’s tried to do to so many people before me.
In my exuberance, I leap off the loft into the ring, a modest fifteen foot drop no worse than jumping off a ladder onto Whitner and Draven.
Stupid!
I feel a twinge of pain in my knee as I land awkwardly. I quickly regain my balance and hide it as best I can from Daphne. If she noticed, she doesn’t say anything as we resume the training session. I get through it just fine but there is a dull throb in my knee the entire time.
Dammit! Stupid! I hope I didn’t do serious damage.
*
Later…
*
There’s nothing quite like that feeling you get after a satisfying meal. I’ve migrated from the dinner table to my office to study some film, my stomach quite happy with Sarah’s steak and potatoes dinner… a true man’s meal. None of that fish with a fried egg on top and kale sh*t for me. I want protein and carbs.
Sarah strolls into the office having finished seeing to our daughter. Laura is becoming a handful now that she is talking and walking. For the record, her first word was “Champ”. Smart girl.
Trotting alongside Sarah obediently is Rex, an eighty pound German Shepard trained to rip the throat out of anybody who would dare to threaten me, Sarah, or our daughter. Hell, he gets along with Doctor Claw so he might defend the cat too.
Another change in my home life caused by Drakz, but in the end a welcome one as Rex is becoming a valued member of the family. And this is from someone who hates dogs because most are dumb as a rock drool machines who can’t take a sh*t without an escort.
I hope that’s more footage of Drakz that you’re studying. You need to watch every match he’s ever had, learn every trick he’s ever pulled. This is the most important match of your career and I want you to win.
The irony isn’t lost on me. Sarah is usually the one trying to keep me grounded, telling me my next match isn’t the most important match of my life. Telling me to cut back a little on the training and remember to be a husband and father as well as a wrestler.
You should be more careful in your training. Did you think you could hide that limp, however slight, from me? I know you too well. Please tell me it’s from pushing too hard and not from doing something stupid like jumping off the loft into the ring?
Was she watching or does she know me that well?
You don’t have to worry. I’m fine.
I will beat Drakz. I’m coming home from Manchester as the new WFWF World Heavyweight Champion.
Sarah grabs my chair and spins it around violently so that I am looking up at her. She wraps her hands around my neck and the back of my head, pulling me close. There is an intensity in her eyes, she wants something.
I like where this is heading.
That’s when she speaks low and slow, almost snarling as she spits out her words.
I don’t give a damn about the titles, not the International or World Heavyweight title. That’s your thing, not mine.
What I do care about is you kicking Drakz’ ass so bad he never comes anywhere near our family ever again. I will not have my daughter’s safety put at risk by that psycho bastard.
Sarah is pacing, arms flailing as she “speaks with her hands”, something she rarely does as she is one of the most in control people I have ever met.
Drakz was here.
Don’t you wonder if he came up to the back door and thought about taking something more important than a car? What sick thoughts did he have as he watched our little girl?
Our daughter who cannot defend herself from Drakz!
I can’t defend myself against Drakz. I have my doubts about Rex.
It’s up to you.
Drakz was right f***ing here!
Do something about it!
Where have I heard that before? Oh right, I’ve been saying it to myself for months!
Sarah isn’t done and discretion being the better part of valor, I keep my mouth shut while she vents.
I want you to put one hundred per cent into preparing for this match because when you get to Manchester I want you to destroy Drakz.
He crossed the line first. There is no limit to what you can and should do in return.
F*** your moral stance about bettering the business. This isn’t business. It’s personal. The line doesn’t exist anymore. You do whatever you have to to destroy that sick son of a bitch.
There a pregnant pause as she contemplates her next words very carefully, unsure whether she actually want to say them out loud.
If you don’t, you may come home to an empty house.
WHAT? Please don’t let her be serious.
You don’t really mean that. You wouldn’t leave me over a wrestling match?
This isn’t just another wrestling match. You aren’t trying for redemption in a ladder match at SuperBrawl. You aren’t defending your status against a returning veteran too full of himself to see that his time is past. It isn’t even about proving you are the best.
Good to know Sarah has been paying attention to my career. Sometimes she doesn’t show it, perhaps because she gets enough wrestling during the day from her work at Legacy, perhaps because most of the time she really does want me to be more of a good family man instead of a workout obsessed gym rat who values a leather belt with gold plates almost as much as he does his own wife and daughter.
All of which says a lot about the destruction Drakz can leave in his wake. He has managed to almost wreck my life in what was most likely an afterthought to his ongoing feud with Tugarin Zmey.
We’re not storied rivals like Drakz is with Zmey or Kyzer or Shannon and he is already wreaking havoc with my life.
Imagine what he could do when he does see me as a legitimate rival and threat to his seemingly endless title reign.
I have to nip that sh*t in the bud damn fast. He cannot be allowed to see me as someone he can toy with.
You have the chance to make sure Drakz stays out of our lives forever. Don’t screw it up because you don’t want to sink to his level. It takes a bastard to beat a bastard. I want you to be the dirtiest bastard to grace a WFWF ring if thats what it takes to end Drakz.
But you wouldn’t really leave if I lose? This is Drakz after all. I’ll need to have the match of my life to beat him.
Then you better have the match of your life and beat him within inch of his life. That way I won’t have to choose between you and the safety of our child.
Her expression softens as she has made her point most vociferously.
That she would even think about leaving is just another bullet point in the long list of reasons why I have to beat Drakz.
Don’t you worry about me, Laura, or anything else. I’ll take care of it all. Between now and Survival of the Fittest you have one job and one job only. Prepare for a war with Drakz that you damn well better win.
It’s rare that I see such intensity from Sarah but right now she is acting like a momma bear or lioness on a National Geographic special. One rule in nature: you f*** with a mother’s child and that mother will defend her child with a ferocity that is unmatched by any man or beast.
She puts my own rage at Drakz to shame.
I couldn’t have put it better myself. Drakz will pay for what he did to us. Don’t you worry about it.
I will be Sarah’s weapon, the focus through which her rage shall be unleashed on Drakz’ unsuspecting @$$.
For the first time, the Lethal Weapon is coming to a match intent on proving just how lethal I can be.
Drakz was here.
Drakz will pay.
There will be no mercy.
Manchester, England : 2/21/20
You Lit the Match
Darkness. A black so pure that the night sky would be jealous.
And then there is light. A match sparks to life. As it slowly burns down Frank Lynn’s voice breaks the silence.
This could have been easy. Two champions defending their titles to determine who is the best.
Pure combat sport at its very best.
But you lit the match.
The match continues to burn as it moves mysteriously through the unending darkness to light a fuse.
You invaded the sanctity of my home. I’ve kept my wrestling separate from my family for a damn good reason. I don’t trust any of you sons of bitches as far as I can throw you.
Now my home has become a prison complete with walls, cameras, and a guard dog.
My life OUTSIDE of wrestling has changed because of you.
I don’t like that… not one bit.
The fuse sparks as it burns down, now the only source of light in the dark as the match quickly died out after serving its purpose.
You stole something that holds deep personal meaning to me. You treated it like a steel chair, trash can, or baseball bat… cheapened a cherished memory by turning it into a weapon to use against Tugarin Zmey.
You might as well have sh*t on my face.
Paulie always preached a calm cool collected approach to any match. Let your opponent be the one to fall prey to his own emotions making him more likely to make a mistake that costs him the match.
I won’t do that this time.
I’m embracing the hate. I want to hurt you both physically and emotionally.
Problem is you’re such a self centered prick that there is only one thing I can think of that matters to you: the WFWF World Heavyweight Championship.
Possession of the title gives justification to all your arrogant douchebaggery.
Loss of the title always inspires you to come back even more vicious and sadistic than before.
Being World Champion defines you.
The fuse continues to burn as barely illuminated booted feet walk beside it.
That’s the difference between us. I defined the International Championship. The World Championship defined you.
I will still be Frank Lynn, the Lethal Weapon without my belt. People will still respect me and fear my in ring skills.
You will be an insignificant @$$hole without your belt. People will neither fear nor respect you once you lose the belt.
You already know this which is why you’ve stated that if you lose, you will retire. You are nothing without the belt and you simply cannot stand the idea of being nothing in front of a world wide audience of millions.
You’re worse than that attention whore Trace Demon. If something isn’t all about Drakz then it shouldn’t even exist at all. You can’t get rid of the WFWF so instead you’ll leave and pretend it doesn’t exist.
But you’re slipping and you know it. The dominant, unbeatable Drakz of five years ago is losing it.
It started after Penny Shannon revealed some of your cracks. You widened the cracks yourself by showing your fear in the days and weeks leading up to your matches with Kyzer and Zmey.
I’m going to tear away at the cracks, rip them wide open into chasms as big as the Grand Canyon so everyone can see the emptiness inside you.
You are nothing without the World Championship.
For what you’ve done to me and what you could do to my family I will reduce you to nothing.
The fuse burns down towards a bomb. As the last few inches of the fuse are consumed by sparks and flames a hand picks up the bomb and holds it in front of a face.
The face of Frank Lynn: cold, determined, and steely eyed. Barely suppressed anger not so patiently waiting to be released.
The last bit of the fuse fizzles out, leaving the bomb unexploded.
You lit the match that lit the fuse that will set off the bomb… but not today.
This bomb explodes at Survival of the Fittest.
Right.
In.
Your.
Stupid.
F***ing.
Face.
The darkness gives way to light showing Frank Lynn standing in the center of a wrestling ring with his manager Daphne standing behind him.
You made the biggest mistake of both your career and your life when you set foot on my land and stole my car.
You made it personal.
I will beat you not only to prove I’m the new constant of the WFWF but also to make sure you get the message that returning to the scene of your crime would be fatal.
There are no rules when it comes to defending my family, simply kill or be killed.
Survival of the Fittest.
The Lethal Weapon is coming for you Drakz. I will break you just like I broke Trace Demon. The World Title is icing on the cake.
Be afraid little man.
Be very very afraid.
Fade to black…
