Post by Johnny Rebel on Sept 25, 2013 16:14:57 GMT -4
"Plans in Motion"
APW Locker Room, Immediately Following Overdrive
September 19th, 2013
Stockholm, Sweden
“I told you we couldn’t trust those idiots to pick their own noses without getting the tar beat out of them!”
Johnny Rebel was absolutely livid. He was moments away from delivering the knockout blow that would put Kaylyn James Evans on the shelf permanently before the LeWinter Sisters and the Synndicate ruined his moment.
“If you can’t find better henchmen to carry out your dirty work, I’m going to start taking matters in to my own hands! This is the second week in a row they’ve failed. I’ve held my end of the bargain. I’m starting to worry that you don’t have the sway that you think you do!”
Felipe DeLorean remained composed while being verbally undressed by “Simply Put” Johnny Rebel. It had become the standard for their relationship – Rebel wasn’t capable of uttering a rational thought while Felipe was calm and collected, ready to keep perspective.
“This isn’t a sprint,” Felipe added. “It’s a marathon. We aren’t going to topple Level-One and his groupies overnight. We have a plan underway…we need to stick to it.”
Rebel wasn’t having any of it. He slammed open the door to the refrigerator in his locker room, popping open the tab, and slamming it back. It doesn’t take long before the majority of it ends up all over the wall.
“What in the world is this?” Rebel’s face scrunched up. “It tastes like warm piss!”
Felipe DeLorean picked up the can from the bench to get a closer look, a slight smile creeping from the side of his mouth.
“Saint’s Flow,” Felipe said.
“That son of a booger-eater snuck in here and defiled my locker room with his horse slobber!” Rebel kicked the locker in the corner of the room closed. “He’s poisoned me, Felipe! I’m going to die!”
“He hasn’t poisoned you.”
“How do you know? My throat is closing up. Quick! Somebody call 9-1-1! Do the Heimlich. Does somebody have an EPI-pen? Get the crash cart ready. My heart is going to explode!”
Rebel continued gagging with both hands wrapped around his own throat, eventually dropping down to both knees, and trying desperately to force himself to vomit.
“Calm down, you fool,” Felipe demands. “It’s an energy drink for crying out loud.”
Rebel patted himself down to make sure that everything was still in tact, eventually reaching his throat, and after realizing he was free to take deep breaths, sighed in relief.
“Whatever is in that can would kill a normal man, Felipe,” Rebel plopped down on the bench. “I’m serious. It tastes like Lester milked a cow, mixed it with gasoline, and then had Jason Kash gargle it for hours on-end before spitting it back in to a bottle. I haven’t had something so foul since I accidently drank a bottle of Donkey Punch.”
“Pull up your skirt and get your head back in the game, Rebel,” Felipe scolded Rebel. “We’ve been upstaged twice now by Level-One…we simply can’t afford to allow him to get the upper hand again.”
“Then let’s quit messing around and cash in all of that pocket change that you’ve been collecting,” Rebel answered back. “President Jeff sure doesn’t have any problems cashing all those checks with your name on them but he’s sure doing his darndest to make sure Level-One doesn’t end up in the ring against me! Kaylyn Evans was nothing more than a pawn. Anybody with half a brain knew that she was walking in to a slaughter last Thursday evening. Tell him we want the real thing…or else!”
“We’ve got to hold our cards close to our chest,” Felipe waved both hands downward, indicating to Rebel to pump the brakes and relax. “We don’t necessarily need a match with the two of you booked against one another…at least not on Overdrive anyway. Apparently, there are some people in the locker room that are a little worked up over the rumor mill that has been churning lately.”
“What rumor mill?”
“They aren’t happy in being passed over for a shot at Level-One for someone who hasn’t exactly been active lately.”
“I’ve been plenty active! Haven’t they been watching? Overdrive has become the Johnny Rebel show.”
“Two weeks doesn’t make up for a comedy of errors over the last year. I’m afraid we’re on the cusp of a mutiny in the locker room if President Jeff announces that you’re challenging for the title at One Night in Hell.”
“That’s always been the goal, Felipe…don’t tell me Jeff is planning on reneging here.”
“No, no, no,” Felipe waved his arms back and forth defiantly. “Nobody is taking away your championship match but we can’t depend on him giving you a clean shot at Level-One on his flagship programming. The numbers are starting to trend up on Saints Flow and people starting to predict big things.”
“You can’t be serious,” Rebel scratched his head in disbelief. “Seriously, I wouldn’t pour this stuff down the drain. It’s potent enough to have that fool arrested for carrying around weapons of mass destruction. Somebody get George Bush on the phone…I found his man!”
“Your opinion doesn’t matter,” Felipe argued. “They are starting to get behind Level-One and if the rest of the locker room is going to turn on you because of your position in the company, then you’re already down two strikes. I’ve seen you overcome a lot of odds over your career but you aren’t going to be able to take on the entire APW roster if it comes down to it.”
“I’d like to see them try and stop me!”
“I didn’t want to have to do this but we’re going to have to start a little recruitment drive on Overdrive this week and try to find somebody that’s capable of watching your back.”
“It’s obvious your henchmen can’t do the trick,” Rebel snorted. “Who’s going to agree to team-up with the Sindicate? We can’t trust anybody in those locker rooms farther than we can throw them!”
“You let me worry about building up the team,” Felipe reassured Rebel. “I need you focused on Chris Madison this week.”
“Jeff is wasting the time of the millions who pay good money to watch me compete in that ring,” Rebel shook his head in disbelief. “You’d think that after the best rating that Overdrive has pulled in years, strictly because Johnny Rebel was headlining, he’d stick with a formula that works! I don’t belong that low on the card and you know it! I shouldn’t even show up. That’ll show those biscuit eaters to book Rebel any place other than the main event!”
“We’ve got Jeff right where we want him. You and I both know that the APW is hemorrhaging more money than the APW Board of Directors knows what to do with! The more the ratings slip and the money disappears from their pockets, the more they lean on the Sindicate, and the more control we gain in the process. All in due time – we’ll play our hand and there won’t be anything that Jeff or the APW can do to stop us then.”
“And in the meantime, I’m supposed to just go with it?”
“It could be worse.”
“How?” Rebel shrieked. “I’m not sure Chris Madison would have even made it to Overdrive if Meltdown still existed!”
“You could be booked against Stefan Raab.”
“Touché.”
“I’ll keep weaving my way through the red tape and you continue to win. They can’t keep Lester away forever.”
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Espoon Kehahait
September 24th, 2013
Helsinki, Finland
“I’m not sure what we’re doing here,” Andrews said dropping his gym bag on the bench in the locker room. “Check that – I won’t complain considering we spent the last week in the Swedish Red-Light District. I’d take the smell of ten-thousand rotting Finnish men to never have to revisit Sweden again.”
“You know how I know you’re gay?”
“Shut-up!” Andrews slugs Rebel on the arm. “I swear I don’t have even the slightest idea of why I follow you around.”
“Felipe’s payroll has its advantages, doesn’t it?”
Michael Andrews had one sole responsibility: keep Rebel out of trouble. Johnny wasn’t exactly trustworthy on his own…and the moment Felipe took his eyes off of the APW megastar, everything came crashing down. Rebel was a cash cow but not if he was sleeping on the streets. He needed a babysitter and Andrews was probably the only person who’d be willing to take on the task.
“We’re here to get in a little training. Apparently, Chris Madison is quite the mixed martial-artist and just like last week, we’ve got to get in his head to know what we’re getting ourselves in to. I begged Jeff for another shot at Kaylyn Evans…I had intended to drink myself silly in one of those ice clubs in Helsinki.”
“What is an ice club?”
“You know – the entire bar is made out of nothing but ice. It’s a little chilly but I’m sure the alcohol takes the buzz after awhile.”
“I should’ve known…”
“So, that’s why we’re here. Since MMA is relatively a new phenomenon and I haven’t dabbled in any of it since it’s inception, I figured a few lessons from some of Finland’s best warriors would give us a leg up on the competition.”
“That’s the first logical thing I’ve heard you say in months.”
“Hey, even a blind squirrel finds a nut!”
Rebel and Andrews continued to get dressed before making their way out to the gym, garnering dirty looks from every direction and nearly stopping the action in all corners of the small, rustic facility. After paying for a quick lesson, the two waited patiently for their instructor to make himself known.
“Te kaksi idioottia...tänne!” someone shouted from off in the distance.
“He can’t be talking to us, can he?” Rebel asked with a confused look glossing over his face. “It sounded like he coughed and blew a gasket in his frontal lobe at the same time!”
After several seconds pass by, and with Rebel looking every which way but the direction of the man yelling at him from the corner of the room, the grizzled old man speaks up again.
“Sanoin, tänne! Jos et marssimaan teidän laiha, lyijykynä jalkainen aasit tänne, aion vetää sinua!”
“Ok,” Andrews conceded. “I think he was talking to us and he seems angry…”
“You’re just confusing their accent for anger. It’s like when people try and speak Hebrew. If they don’t sound like they are mixing someone choking on a Hot Dog mixed with the glouchenschpiel, you’re butchering their language or something. He probably just got a beard hair stuck in his throat or something.”
“Orvokit ... Tule tänne. Aion repiä pois pään ja paska alas kurkusta!”
“I think he means business, Johnny…” Andrews quickly made his way towards the back, while Rebel meandered along. “Hurry up!”
“Sissy pojat. Tule tänne, jotta voin opettaa sinulle oppitunti!”
“I don’t suppose he speaks English,” Rebel asked. “How in the world are we supposed to learn something from somebody that can’t even communicate!”
“I don’t think you need to listen in MMA as much as you get in and work through the different positions. It’s repetition.”
“When did you become such an expert in everything?” Rebel huffed. “Where are the ropes? The referee? How are we supposed to have a match without the basic necessities? I knew I didn’t care for this pansy sport! Get in there Andrews and show them how we do it in the wrestling business!”
Rebel shoves Andrews forwards and takes a step backwards, leaving Michael alone in the ring to be circled by the older gentlemen, supposedly an MMA instructor. “The Chameleon” does everything possible to avoid the clutch of the Finnish man but can’t escape and succumbs to a double-leg takedown.
“Olet kiljua kuin sika!”
“What’s he saying, Johnny?” Andrews’ eyes nearly bug out of his head. “Tell him to stop!”
“Do I look like I speak Finnish? Put up a fight. Come on, man! You’re making me look bad…”
After a few moments, the instructor has Andrews folded like a pretzel, much to the disdain of an annoyed Rebel. Johnny throws up his hands in disgust while Andrews lays still on the mat, tending to his neck, and shaking out his arms and legs.
“I’d like to see you give it a go,” Andrews comments came sputtering out in between deep breaths, each one forcing him to dig a little deeper. “You wouldn’t last ten minutes!”
“I don’t need to last ten minutes,” Rebel argued. “We’re talking about professional wrestling. I knew this would be a bad idea! This Chris Madison guy won’t know what to do without those fancy gloves hiding my bare knuckles. And seriously, what’s up with not wearing shoes? It’s like we’re in the hills of West Virginia. This isn’t a civilized sport.
“Like you’d know anything about being civilized?”
“I know that I’m leaps and bounds ahead of Chris Madison! I dare you to name an area that he has an advantage over me. This ‘fad’ of rolling around with other dudes and trying to make the other cry uncle surely isn’t going to last more than a few more months!”
“It’s been around a few years now, Johnny, and I’m telling you…jump in there for a few seconds and you’ll be singing a different tune real quick.”
“What’s there to see that I haven’t already picked up sitting over here on the sidelines? It looks like a greasy, hairy, over-the-hill Finnish man, charged at you like a Rhino with his nose pointed in the air, and while hugging you, rolled around on the mat, and played footsie with you until you slapped the mat about a hundred times in submission. If that’s all Madison has in his bag of tricks…he’s in for a rude awakening!”
Rebel’s arrogance translated to any language and it was becoming more apparent that the grizzled instructor wasn’t taking kindly to his tone regarding his observations. He began to approach Rebel, before Johnny quickly recanted, and begged forgiveness.
“Now hold on a second!” Rebel shouted. “I wasn’t talking about you. I was talking about some panty-wasted, no-talent hack in APW! I’m bigger and stronger, which means he isn’t going to be able to take me down so easily. I’m more experienced which means I’m always a couple steps ahead of him and will be waiting when he tries to come at me with his silly takedowns. We won’t be wearing gloves or footies. We’ll be two men standing in the middle of the ring and the best one will walk out with their arms raised in the air!”
“But…”
“This isn’t wrestling, Andrews,” Rebel cut him off. “Wrestling is a gladiator sport where only one walks out. I’ve seen pictures of these doofs bashing each other’s brains in and then shaking hands at the end of the evening. I’m not interested in making buddies here. Besides, ninety percent of these matches don’t even make it to a finish. They have to rely on somebody else to grade how they did and declare them the champion! That’s not a duel. That’s a glorified beauty pageant. Which one of you can look less ugly when the Egg-timer goes off! No thanks!”
“You aren’t getting…..”
Rebel again interrupts.
“Look, I’m the best in the world at what I do. Wrestling isn’t some fad that came out of nowhere, but it’s been around for ages…and I’ve been competing in that ring for the bulk of its mainstream popularity. I have wrestled on every continent and just about everywhere in between. Madison may have a few rights and lefts in his back pocket but that won’t be enough to take me down! He’s very good at what he does…but he’s extremely limited. Right. Left. Single leg takedown. Choke. Which isn’t even legal in wrestling!”
“See for yourself…”
Andrews chuckles as a group of men, apparently understanding more English than Rebel expected, converge on the APW megastar and immediately began taking turns, twisting him up, driving haymakers in to the side of his ribs, Rebel yelping at each turn. After the group is satisfied with their retribution, they leave Rebel seeing stars in the middle of the mat, as Andrews chokes down a smile.
“Hey Andrews…”
Rebel cries out from the mat while staring up at the ceiling.
“I think I’m in trouble…”
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“Congratulations on finally making the big time, Madison. It only took you about six months to wade out of the midcard to the bright lights!”
“Let me paint a picture of what’s about to happen. You’re a fisherman and you’ve been perfectly happy navigating your boat through the shallow waters of the APW…pulling up trout after trout, however, none of them truly big enough to put in your cooler and take home with you. You push your boat a little farther out in to the water and even though a few of the fish are putting up a little more fight than you expected, you aren’t satisfied with your haul. Now, you’ve been pushed out in to open waters…and you’re miles away from the nearest land. You start to get a little more nervous – the dorsal fin of a shark catching the corner of your eye. It smells blood in the water. Before you know what it hits you, that shark has swallowed you hole. That shark is Johnny Rebel!”
“All you have and all you are has been the product of your role as an opportunist. You squeak through by kissing just enough of President Jeff’s rear end to make sure lady luck is dancing in your corner with enough to get you that one opportunity… and you put on a straight face long enough to con the entire wrestling world.”
“You must think you have truly arrived. After all of your years of hard work – you’ve finally made it to the grandest stage: the APW ring. And against Johnny Rebel at that! I can’t imagine what that feeling has inspired inside of you. It’s got to be like the first time a kid sees Disney World. All of his dreams have finally come true!”
“But alas, this isn’t Disney World. This is the real world. All of these rides are shut down and we’re hellbent on making sure that your dreams turn to nightmares!”
“With every second that passes, I’m sure you’re gaining in confidence. I know you like to give off the vibe that you don’t care what the rest of the world thinks about you. But I think it’s starting to catch up with you a little bit. I think you have a lot of insecurities inside of you that creep up every time you lace up those boots to get inside the ring. I think deep down inside you fit the bill of every other wrestler who has tried to navigate the muddy waters of this business and has come up short. But I’ve figured out people like you. Finding your way to the APW is worthy of a tip of the cap because this place doesn’t just enlist anybody who signs up.”
“But the tough guy exterior bit is overplayed and wearing thin. You aren’t intimidating anybody. You don’t scare me. When people like you get the opportunity that has been handed to you – the rarely do anything with it. They usually end up standing in a puddle of their own urine dripping down their leg!”
“It’s like going back to your playground days the first time you thought about tackling the giant slide.”
“There is just something that magnetically draws us to the giant, steep, metal slide. You look up in wonder and realize, “Hey, I can conquer that! I’m not afraid!” You begin to climb, putting one foot in front of the other, and holding yourself secure with the provided safety measures. All of the sudden - you feel your stomach drop. You don’t realize how high you have to climb to get to the top and you start to teeter to your left and then again to your right. It’s embarrassing as there are several other people waiting at the bottom for their turn. You keep telling your legs to move but you they don’t listen and you sit wiggling in fear on the step. You start to realize that you can now see over all of the trees in the distance that seemed so big standing on the ground. The slide suddenly isn’t worth it but you only have two options: keep going or become the descent down to the ground, which would ultimately result in never-ending teasing from all of those around.”
“Which describes Madison perfectly. He’s climbed up and is way over his head on Overdrive. He wasn’t sure what he’s got himself in to and is nervously swaying back and forth hoping that there isn’t anybody climbing up behind him putting the pressure on! It looked like a great idea in his head but now that he’s facing imminent danger, he’s ready to flee with his tail tucked between his legs. Only this time: there isn’t anywhere to run! There is an angry mob waiting below with pitchforks and standing at the end of the slide is the biggest bully on the block.”
“So, don’t start climbing, Madison. Stay at home where you’re safe. Once you beginning your ascent up the ladder, there isn’t anywhere to go but down.”
#SIMPLY
#F’N
#PUT!
