Post by James Stall on May 1, 2011 17:49:28 GMT
For best effect please read Glorious New Direction first. Marcus and I have synced up our rps with some shared dialogue two show the scene from two points of view and show the differences between our characters.
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My day starts as so many have for the last few months inside the UCW arena. Today is a slower day than usual. With Genesis in a few days the entire city is a buzz. Most of the students are out attending numerous press events and having pre-Genesis parties. My uncle has been in town since the day after Live-Wire giving interviews and teaching master classes here and at the FWF Arena. While I’m spending my day in the ring getting in as much training as I can, my uncle is with my grandfather, Predator, and other legends at the FWF arena for the annual Hall of Fame panel and signing. That’s where the majority of the students are. I heard them talking about it all morning. They were wondering whether or not they would get X-ecutioner’s autograph. They won’t. He won’t be there. He never is.
As for me, I’m exactly where I should be. Adam Foulds, son of UCW and FWF Legend Alan Foulds, and grandson of the man who trained my grandfather. Although he’s still chilly when it comes to my uncle, he and I have really bonded these last few months over our mutual love of wrestling, women, and musical theatre. Now we’re throwing each other across the ring. He tries to slip be into a full nelson, but I power out of it and hit him with an uppercut followed by a kick to the stomach and a suplex. He lands hard on his back, but he’s quick to get up.
”Thanks for sticking around to help me train.”
We grapple in the middle the ring. This time Adam slips behind me and nails me with a German suplex. I rolls to my feet.
Sure thing mate. But how does taking me on one on one help you prepare for your tag match against Starr and Legend?
We run at each other. I go for a clothesline, but he ducks it and hits me in the back with a dropkick. I fall into the ropes.
”Well I haven’t been able to work with Marcus because he’s been God knows where, so I’ve been preparing individual for both of them. For WBL I’ve been sparring with Grandpa Joe because they’re both huge.”
He charges at me. I flip him over the ropes, but he lands on the apron. Iift him up for a suplex, but he lands on his feet. He hits me with a kick to the knees before taking me down with a reverse DDT.
Right. And I help you prepare for Starr how?
I sweep his legs out from under him, and quickly put him in an anklelock.
”The pink mostly. Helps me get past the mental block of having to touch a fag.”
Adam rolls over and kicks me off.
You’re kidding.
We run at each other again. This time I nail him with the clothesline. He gets up and I lift him into a scoop slam. He gets up again and this time I nail him with the Sergeant Spinebuster.
”Only a little.”
I lift him up and nail him with a second spinebuster. Then I pick him up again and hit him with the Captain Clutch. It’s not long before he is tapping out.
”And that’s how I’m going to defeat Benny Starr… or perhaps Legend… I haven’t decided yet.”
I let Adam go, and after a few moments he is climbing to his feet again. I laugh and clap him on the back. He falls down again. I help him to his feet.
Well you’re certainly prepared for your match. I hope Marcus is too.
”MTB is always prepared.”
I hope.
Anyway, what are you doing tonight? You should come out and celebrate Genesis week with the rest of us.
I would love nothing more than to head out for a night with my friends who have saved up their money all year to enjoy Genesis. To think I’m going to be fighting in it. My first Genesis… it’s almost too much. And to think no one else in my family has ever won their first appearance at Genesis. Hell Grandpa Joe has never won there at all. And now we could both walk away from the Theatre of Dreams as victorious title holders. Oh, I’ve been zoning out Adam is still waiting for my answer.
”I would, but I got a call from Sandy Strachon today to meet Marcus outside of “Universal” at nine.And I figure I should spend some time with MTB before we defend out titles.”
Ah, that Sandy Strachon’s a right twat mate.
That he is.
”That he is.”
But his club's pretty great. It’s always packed, but that’s where we’re going tonight. So we’ll see you there.
Ah that’s great. I’ll prepare my partner mentally for my match, and have a good time with friends.
”Why don’t you guys ever hangout at the old UCW bar across the street?”
Bah. That place is full of nothing but yobs and druggies these days… and Manchester City fans.
I’ll never understand how the English can be so passionate about soccer.
”Right. Whatever. I’m going to go get ready. I’ll see you tonight.”
I pat him on the back and exit the ring.
See yah mate. We’ll have us some Woodys tonight.
I nod my head enthusiastically.
”That we will.”
Jack “The Steel” Woody’s twin daughters are both fabulous lays. I walk out of the gym with in a smile on my face and anticipation for the night to come.
I arrive at “Universal” around nine o’clock. The suns still out, and if you ask me that means it’s a terrible time to go to a club, but apparently MTB insisted we’d meet now. So I get here, and I’ve already had a few drinks because that’s the kind of person I am, and there is an absolutely massive line outside the door. I spot the UCW crew at the back of the line. Blocking the door is a tall bouncer with spiked up bleach blonde hair. He’s standing there like he’s trying to pretend he’s military. But he’s not. I’ve grown up around military guys, and none of them stand like he does. They certainly wouldn’t be caught dead with spiked bleach blonde hair. This guy is just some punk ass wannabe. I could probably take him in a fight with my eyes closed.
”Okay, MTB... so this is that awesome place you told me about?”
Uh-huh. Isn't it a beaut?
This might be the tackiest place I’ve ever seen. Is that purple neon? Ugh. What a disgusting way to try to cash in on the legacy of a great company. I’m getting bad feelings from this place just by looking at the outside. I look at Marcus. What’s the nicest way to tell him I hate this place?
”Oh yeah, very.”
Alright so I decided to lie to him, but I couldn’t tell him how much I hated this place already. Marcus is too delicate for that, and it might really upset him. It’s not that I’m gay or anything I just don’t need a distraught partner in that ring with me come Genesis. I look over at my friends who are standing on the back of the long line. I begin to walk toward them when Marcus speaks again.
Right-o. Let's go in.
Did he seriously just say “Right-O”? God he’s so frickin British. And he’s moving toward the door. Great. I suppose I should follow him. I look over at my friends who are so eagerly waiting at the door. Adam, Tim, Caleb, Scott, and the fabulous Woody Twins are all waving at me. Oh Stacy and Stella Woody, Adam and I were supposed to divide and conquer tonight. Those breasts… no. Must stay with Marcus. Can’t dump him… emotional collapse… lose of tag titles… they’ll understand. I wave back and then motion toward Marcus. I can only hope they understand that I have to follow him. I better see them inside later, and I swear Marcus if you stop me from nailing some Woody tonight tag titles or not I will kill you.
MTB! long time no see. Come on in.
I’ll be honest I’m a little impressed that MTB seems to have made some connections. When I first met him he was a total anti-social wuss.
Thanks, Sarge.
The bouncer lifts the rope up, and we begin to walk toward the door. Marcus enters and the crowd begins to shout at us and the bouncer. I don’t blame them. I think this sort of special treatment is disgusting, but I need to stick with MTB. His fragile ego depends on me. And—Oh no. He did not just drop the rope down in front of me.
Where do you think you're going?
Okay tough guy. You wanna fucking dance? Let’s dance. I’ll kick your punk wannabee military ass right now. I’ll drop you in front of all these people, and then I’m sure they’ll gladly toss your body in the nearest fucking dumpster. I will break your fucking neck you Son of a--
It's okay, Sarge. He's my plus one. He's cool.
Plus one? What is this a fucking wedding? Anyway Mister Military Wannabe lets us pass. I can hear the anger the anger of the crowd over the music as we step inside. As the door is shut behind us leaving the masses outside “Money for Nothing” by Dire Straights begins to play. I hang my head as we continue into the main area of the club. There’s barely anybody here right now because all the good people haven’t even been let in yet. I think of all my friends still waiting outside and sigh. I don’t think Marcus can hear me. He’s too busy singing and bobbing his head to the music.
I want my – I want my-- I want my MTB.
The poor delusional fool.
”Marcus this place looks like it blows.”
MTB turns around. His head is still bobbing to the beat.
No way mate. It’s just early. Besides, the real party’s upstairs.
He turns around keeps singing to himself.
”Whatever.”
That’s the spirit.
He’s clearly still not listening. We make our way over to a spiraling staircase where another man is standing guard. This one is short and stocky. He’s bald, muscular, and is wearing a tight shirt and jeans that betray his homosexuality. He reminds me a lot of Benny Starr.
Nicolai!
Marcus gives the short man a hug. Oh for God’s sake MTB don’t do that. I can see his nipple ring through his shirt. You’re probably giving him a boner. Wait… did I just call MTB attractive? I better check myself right there. Tits. There we go. He leans over and gives Nicolai a kiss on both cheeks which he returns in kind. This is just getting worse. MTB looks over at me.
It’s an old Russian custom.
No. No. It’s an I want to fuck you custom.
Enjoy your evening mein fraund.
Okay. Nicolas here is clearly German. I swear MTB sometimes I worry about you. We make our way up the spiral staircase as the doors behind us open and the crowd begins to file in. As we climb up to the VIP area the my friends are herded into the main club. We hit the VIP area which has some more action. People with popped collars and short dresses are convulsing on the dance floor. “Rock You Like a Hurricane” begins to play.
Oh! I love this song! Be back in a moment.
And there he goes, off to the dance floor. He’s really getting into it to, attracting a bit of a crowd. Look at him go. It’s like watching monkey having a seizure. I feel like I’m watching an interpretive dance about a spastic colon. And now people are giving him drinks. Christ Marcus you shouldn’t just drink peoples beverage. Who knows what’s in them? Back alley rape is never something one should aspire to. And—Oh—here he goes. He’s grabbed his ankle in one hand. He’s lifting the leg. He’s flapping his arm. He’s looking like a drunken flamingo. This is awful. I’d stop him, but he looks like he’s having such a great time. And he’s attracting the ladies. Sure they’re laughing at him, but maybe they find his awkwardness endearing. Let’s see if he can use this. Hello there. There’s a very attractive waitress. This evening might not be so awful after all. She may not be a Woody, but she’s giving me a hard on. Leave Marcus to his shameless peacocking. I’m gonna get some tail.
I saunter up to her and get her attention. She’s carrying a tray with a glass of scotch on it. I pick it up and drain it in one sip. My arm flies around her waist. I pull her close and slam my lips into hers. I pull away and she looks like she’s seeing stars. If I’m going to avoid a slap to the face and a sexual harassment lawsuit this next line has to be gold.
I’m a rich and successful athlete. Wanna fuck?
She drops her tray onto the nearest counter and grabs my arm before pulling me toward the nearest bathroom. That’s the difference between us Marcus. Some people are all flash, and some of us just do. I’m a doer, and now I’mma do her.
Twenty minutes later, and the waitress is slipping her thong back on and slipping out the bathroom door and back to work. I slick back my hair with some water from the sink and spritz on a little cologne. I give the attendant a ten. He’s got a very big smile on his face, but I don’t want to know why.
I walk out of the bathroom as “Another One Bites the Dust” hits and I can’t help but thinking… how appropriate. That’s when MTB practically slams into me. Crap. He must have been worried about me.
Where've you been?
Fucking. Fucking. Fucking. Can’t let him know that. It might be too much for him.
Oh, just checking a few things out.
Including that mole on her left butt cheek which she should probably see a doctor about. Ass cancer is nothing to joke about.
Oh cool. Let's get to Sandy's box.
I’m sure it won’t be anywhere near as interesting as the one I just came from, but I humor the little guy and allow myself to be led to the private room inside the VIP section. For a club called Universal this place seems to pride itself on seclusion. As expected, Sandy’s box is unimpressive. It’s obnoxiously decorated, too big, and it smells. Sandy Strachon comes right up to me and grabs my hand. What a greaseball.
So ya must be James Stall. Nice to meet ya. Ya look nothin' like ya father.
Grandfather. He’s my grandfather asshole. I happen to look a lot—well know I don’t really look much like my dad either.
Grandfather. I'm Joe's grandson.
Sandy looks surprised. This is probably because he’s a bucktoothed idiot.
Grandson!? Didn't know ol' Joe was that... old.
You’re no spring chicken yourself douchebag. I’ll admit you’ve got a hot daughter though. Is she sitting next to Marcus? Go MTB. I approve. Suddenly Sandy james a drink into my hand.
Ya can sit down, ya know. Settee's not gonna bite ya.
What the fuck’s a sette?
”Thanks.”
I sit down and take a sip of my drink. It is without a doubt the shittyest Long Island Iced Tea I have ever had, but alcohol is alcohol. I just drink it faster to get rid of it. Sandy looks like he’s about to piss himself.
Ya know, James, ya look nothin' like ya grandad. But from what I've seen, ya can be better than him. I can make sure of it if ya hire me as an agent.
If I’m ever going to be better than my grandfather it sure won’t be because you’re my agent you prick.
”I'll think about it, thanks.
Ya know I’m serious. Ya can be great kid, with the right management by ya side the sky’s the limit. Ya know I was your grandad’s first agent way back even before the days a UCW.
Oh believe me I know I’ve heard the stories.
”Yeah, and I heard sometimes he’d have to haul your drunk ass out of a bar at four in the morning, and he’d be lucky if he got paid on time.”
Ya granddad owes his career ta me.
You’re an egotistical bastard. What did you ever do for my grandfather but get him a few lousy bookings?
”He owes his career to his own talent, to his training from Alan Foulds Sr., and to men like Marcus Brody and you know it.”
That one’s got him. His face scrunches up and he takes a long sip of his drink. I wonder if Marcus heard that bit I worked in about his dad?
Talent’s got nothing ta do with it. You know who has talent? Ross Walker. And how many World Titles does he have? Exactly zero. Now Christian Lee there’s a guy with talent, flair, and a World title around his waist. Ya good kid, but without the right help along the way guys like Benny Starr and Wild Bill Legend are gonna keep runnin’ over ya.
Is that really the side you want to take? Starr and Legend? They’re your evidence? Well there’s a fatal flaw in your argument.
”For all that flair you love so much, Starr and Legend have never won FWF’s big prize. In fact, both of them failed to take the title from my Uncle. I don’t need you. I have Marcus, and together we’ll beat Legestarr.”
MTB might. He’s been carrying your team lately. Thanks to that newfound confidence I gave him.
That’s it. I don’t have to take this shit. I choose instead to ignore him and pour myself a second Long Island Iced tea. I lean toward the window and look out over the club as I drink. The dance floor is packed with people like an overfilled can of sardines. I look over at Marcus and he’s struggling with his Long Island Iced Tea.
The first sip's always the worst. It'll grow on ya, MTB. The Long Island Iced Tea is one hell of a drink. Reminds me of when I lived in The Bronx as a teenager. It was there I learned the business, and where I met ya grandad, James.
Shut the fuck up. My friends are out there somewhere, trying to find space to breathe, and maybe if they’re lucky some inattentive bartender will serve them a drink and they’ll get to move up and down in one spot pretending to dance.
But yeah, on Friday ya've got ya big match against Starr and Legend. Ya may only be in a tag title match, but if James takes my management ya could both be main-eventing Genesis someday. I can see it now in lights: "MTB vs. Stall: FWF World Championship!" People would pay to see ya both tear the house down. It'd be win-win-win when it comes to the payday!
There’s no way I would ever be managed by a scumbag like you. I don’t know what MTB sees in you, but there they are. My friends from UCW are all clumped together by one of the bar counters. I can see Adam desperately trying to get the bartender’s attention. Both Woody sisters are pressed against him. Lucky bastard. This is too much. I can’t stand it. I jump from my seat and look over at Sandy and Marcus.
“Back soon. Need to use the bathroom.”
And with that I’m out the door before anyone can say anything. I rush out of the VIP area and run down the stairs. I brush past the gay German guard, and muscle my way through the crowd. My progress is slow, but eventually I make my way to the counter where my friends are. They see me and give a shout. As I get there Adam hits me with a hard pat on the back. No time to waste though. I grab his glass of Jack Daniels and chug it before jumping on top of the bar counter.
”Friends! Comrades! Listen to me!”
The music cuts. I’m a recognizable face, and with this being Genesis week people must be thinking this is all part of the show. Still, I better make this quick.
”Look at yourselves! Crammed in here like animals while up there the pigs are laughing at you. Is this what you want? This places spits in the eye of everything our fathers and grandfathers stood for. Brotherhood! Unity! Hard work! These are the values our families fought by. And now look at you all, seduced by the false glamor of a neon façade. This place is not UCW. This place is a disgrace. It’s a sham. And people like Sandy Strachon are the worst kind of people in the world. He’s content to stand in his ivory tower and watch you sweat it out down here. People like him… people like Starr and Legend look down upon you.”
Gotta work in some Genesis stuff or people will get suspicious.
”At Genesis I will defeat Starr and Legend because I have a partner. Together we will defeat those over-priced over-fed pigs. Together, we can defeat the Sandy Strachon’s of the world. United we can do anything. Remember UCW. Remember what you stand for. Stand with me as one and together we will be triumphant. I piss on this establishment! I piss on Sandy Strachon! I piss on Starr and Legend!”
Only one thing left to do. I reach for the the zipper on my jeans and fumble with my dick for a second. I whip it out and, to the raucous cheers of my friends and utter disgust of most of the other patrons, I begin to soak the bar in my own urine. As I try my best to aim for maximum coverage with one hand I raise my other fist into the air. Out of the corner of my eye I see Surge barreling through the crowd. I jump off the bar, and, as he approaches me I kick him hard in the stomach before slamming him face first into the piss soaked bar counter breaking his nose. I toss him to the floor as my UCW friends begin to break various glasses and turn over a table or two. Nicolai runs over to us, but he is swiftly met by Adam’s boot connecting with his testicles. We begin to chant.
”U C DUB! U C DUB! U C DUB!”
The crowd joins us. I hope Sandy is enjoying the show. Me and the rest of UCW triumphantly make our way out of the bar before more security can come. Sandy won’t dare call the police though. Better to let the public think this was all an act then let them know he let people in his club get out of control. As we strut down the street Adam and I lag behind the group slighty. I clasped Adam around the shoulders and watch Stacy and Stella as they walk in front of us.
”You ever take a Woody in the ass?”
Adam just laughs.
Twice last week.
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My day starts as so many have for the last few months inside the UCW arena. Today is a slower day than usual. With Genesis in a few days the entire city is a buzz. Most of the students are out attending numerous press events and having pre-Genesis parties. My uncle has been in town since the day after Live-Wire giving interviews and teaching master classes here and at the FWF Arena. While I’m spending my day in the ring getting in as much training as I can, my uncle is with my grandfather, Predator, and other legends at the FWF arena for the annual Hall of Fame panel and signing. That’s where the majority of the students are. I heard them talking about it all morning. They were wondering whether or not they would get X-ecutioner’s autograph. They won’t. He won’t be there. He never is.
As for me, I’m exactly where I should be. Adam Foulds, son of UCW and FWF Legend Alan Foulds, and grandson of the man who trained my grandfather. Although he’s still chilly when it comes to my uncle, he and I have really bonded these last few months over our mutual love of wrestling, women, and musical theatre. Now we’re throwing each other across the ring. He tries to slip be into a full nelson, but I power out of it and hit him with an uppercut followed by a kick to the stomach and a suplex. He lands hard on his back, but he’s quick to get up.
”Thanks for sticking around to help me train.”
We grapple in the middle the ring. This time Adam slips behind me and nails me with a German suplex. I rolls to my feet.
Sure thing mate. But how does taking me on one on one help you prepare for your tag match against Starr and Legend?
We run at each other. I go for a clothesline, but he ducks it and hits me in the back with a dropkick. I fall into the ropes.
”Well I haven’t been able to work with Marcus because he’s been God knows where, so I’ve been preparing individual for both of them. For WBL I’ve been sparring with Grandpa Joe because they’re both huge.”
He charges at me. I flip him over the ropes, but he lands on the apron. Iift him up for a suplex, but he lands on his feet. He hits me with a kick to the knees before taking me down with a reverse DDT.
Right. And I help you prepare for Starr how?
I sweep his legs out from under him, and quickly put him in an anklelock.
”The pink mostly. Helps me get past the mental block of having to touch a fag.”
Adam rolls over and kicks me off.
You’re kidding.
We run at each other again. This time I nail him with the clothesline. He gets up and I lift him into a scoop slam. He gets up again and this time I nail him with the Sergeant Spinebuster.
”Only a little.”
I lift him up and nail him with a second spinebuster. Then I pick him up again and hit him with the Captain Clutch. It’s not long before he is tapping out.
”And that’s how I’m going to defeat Benny Starr… or perhaps Legend… I haven’t decided yet.”
I let Adam go, and after a few moments he is climbing to his feet again. I laugh and clap him on the back. He falls down again. I help him to his feet.
Well you’re certainly prepared for your match. I hope Marcus is too.
”MTB is always prepared.”
I hope.
Anyway, what are you doing tonight? You should come out and celebrate Genesis week with the rest of us.
I would love nothing more than to head out for a night with my friends who have saved up their money all year to enjoy Genesis. To think I’m going to be fighting in it. My first Genesis… it’s almost too much. And to think no one else in my family has ever won their first appearance at Genesis. Hell Grandpa Joe has never won there at all. And now we could both walk away from the Theatre of Dreams as victorious title holders. Oh, I’ve been zoning out Adam is still waiting for my answer.
”I would, but I got a call from Sandy Strachon today to meet Marcus outside of “Universal” at nine.And I figure I should spend some time with MTB before we defend out titles.”
Ah, that Sandy Strachon’s a right twat mate.
That he is.
”That he is.”
But his club's pretty great. It’s always packed, but that’s where we’re going tonight. So we’ll see you there.
Ah that’s great. I’ll prepare my partner mentally for my match, and have a good time with friends.
”Why don’t you guys ever hangout at the old UCW bar across the street?”
Bah. That place is full of nothing but yobs and druggies these days… and Manchester City fans.
I’ll never understand how the English can be so passionate about soccer.
”Right. Whatever. I’m going to go get ready. I’ll see you tonight.”
I pat him on the back and exit the ring.
See yah mate. We’ll have us some Woodys tonight.
I nod my head enthusiastically.
”That we will.”
Jack “The Steel” Woody’s twin daughters are both fabulous lays. I walk out of the gym with in a smile on my face and anticipation for the night to come.
I arrive at “Universal” around nine o’clock. The suns still out, and if you ask me that means it’s a terrible time to go to a club, but apparently MTB insisted we’d meet now. So I get here, and I’ve already had a few drinks because that’s the kind of person I am, and there is an absolutely massive line outside the door. I spot the UCW crew at the back of the line. Blocking the door is a tall bouncer with spiked up bleach blonde hair. He’s standing there like he’s trying to pretend he’s military. But he’s not. I’ve grown up around military guys, and none of them stand like he does. They certainly wouldn’t be caught dead with spiked bleach blonde hair. This guy is just some punk ass wannabe. I could probably take him in a fight with my eyes closed.
”Okay, MTB... so this is that awesome place you told me about?”
Uh-huh. Isn't it a beaut?
This might be the tackiest place I’ve ever seen. Is that purple neon? Ugh. What a disgusting way to try to cash in on the legacy of a great company. I’m getting bad feelings from this place just by looking at the outside. I look at Marcus. What’s the nicest way to tell him I hate this place?
”Oh yeah, very.”
Alright so I decided to lie to him, but I couldn’t tell him how much I hated this place already. Marcus is too delicate for that, and it might really upset him. It’s not that I’m gay or anything I just don’t need a distraught partner in that ring with me come Genesis. I look over at my friends who are standing on the back of the long line. I begin to walk toward them when Marcus speaks again.
Right-o. Let's go in.
Did he seriously just say “Right-O”? God he’s so frickin British. And he’s moving toward the door. Great. I suppose I should follow him. I look over at my friends who are so eagerly waiting at the door. Adam, Tim, Caleb, Scott, and the fabulous Woody Twins are all waving at me. Oh Stacy and Stella Woody, Adam and I were supposed to divide and conquer tonight. Those breasts… no. Must stay with Marcus. Can’t dump him… emotional collapse… lose of tag titles… they’ll understand. I wave back and then motion toward Marcus. I can only hope they understand that I have to follow him. I better see them inside later, and I swear Marcus if you stop me from nailing some Woody tonight tag titles or not I will kill you.
MTB! long time no see. Come on in.
I’ll be honest I’m a little impressed that MTB seems to have made some connections. When I first met him he was a total anti-social wuss.
Thanks, Sarge.
The bouncer lifts the rope up, and we begin to walk toward the door. Marcus enters and the crowd begins to shout at us and the bouncer. I don’t blame them. I think this sort of special treatment is disgusting, but I need to stick with MTB. His fragile ego depends on me. And—Oh no. He did not just drop the rope down in front of me.
Where do you think you're going?
Okay tough guy. You wanna fucking dance? Let’s dance. I’ll kick your punk wannabee military ass right now. I’ll drop you in front of all these people, and then I’m sure they’ll gladly toss your body in the nearest fucking dumpster. I will break your fucking neck you Son of a--
It's okay, Sarge. He's my plus one. He's cool.
Plus one? What is this a fucking wedding? Anyway Mister Military Wannabe lets us pass. I can hear the anger the anger of the crowd over the music as we step inside. As the door is shut behind us leaving the masses outside “Money for Nothing” by Dire Straights begins to play. I hang my head as we continue into the main area of the club. There’s barely anybody here right now because all the good people haven’t even been let in yet. I think of all my friends still waiting outside and sigh. I don’t think Marcus can hear me. He’s too busy singing and bobbing his head to the music.
I want my – I want my-- I want my MTB.
The poor delusional fool.
”Marcus this place looks like it blows.”
MTB turns around. His head is still bobbing to the beat.
No way mate. It’s just early. Besides, the real party’s upstairs.
He turns around keeps singing to himself.
”Whatever.”
That’s the spirit.
He’s clearly still not listening. We make our way over to a spiraling staircase where another man is standing guard. This one is short and stocky. He’s bald, muscular, and is wearing a tight shirt and jeans that betray his homosexuality. He reminds me a lot of Benny Starr.
Nicolai!
Marcus gives the short man a hug. Oh for God’s sake MTB don’t do that. I can see his nipple ring through his shirt. You’re probably giving him a boner. Wait… did I just call MTB attractive? I better check myself right there. Tits. There we go. He leans over and gives Nicolai a kiss on both cheeks which he returns in kind. This is just getting worse. MTB looks over at me.
It’s an old Russian custom.
No. No. It’s an I want to fuck you custom.
Enjoy your evening mein fraund.
Okay. Nicolas here is clearly German. I swear MTB sometimes I worry about you. We make our way up the spiral staircase as the doors behind us open and the crowd begins to file in. As we climb up to the VIP area the my friends are herded into the main club. We hit the VIP area which has some more action. People with popped collars and short dresses are convulsing on the dance floor. “Rock You Like a Hurricane” begins to play.
Oh! I love this song! Be back in a moment.
And there he goes, off to the dance floor. He’s really getting into it to, attracting a bit of a crowd. Look at him go. It’s like watching monkey having a seizure. I feel like I’m watching an interpretive dance about a spastic colon. And now people are giving him drinks. Christ Marcus you shouldn’t just drink peoples beverage. Who knows what’s in them? Back alley rape is never something one should aspire to. And—Oh—here he goes. He’s grabbed his ankle in one hand. He’s lifting the leg. He’s flapping his arm. He’s looking like a drunken flamingo. This is awful. I’d stop him, but he looks like he’s having such a great time. And he’s attracting the ladies. Sure they’re laughing at him, but maybe they find his awkwardness endearing. Let’s see if he can use this. Hello there. There’s a very attractive waitress. This evening might not be so awful after all. She may not be a Woody, but she’s giving me a hard on. Leave Marcus to his shameless peacocking. I’m gonna get some tail.
I saunter up to her and get her attention. She’s carrying a tray with a glass of scotch on it. I pick it up and drain it in one sip. My arm flies around her waist. I pull her close and slam my lips into hers. I pull away and she looks like she’s seeing stars. If I’m going to avoid a slap to the face and a sexual harassment lawsuit this next line has to be gold.
I’m a rich and successful athlete. Wanna fuck?
She drops her tray onto the nearest counter and grabs my arm before pulling me toward the nearest bathroom. That’s the difference between us Marcus. Some people are all flash, and some of us just do. I’m a doer, and now I’mma do her.
Twenty minutes later, and the waitress is slipping her thong back on and slipping out the bathroom door and back to work. I slick back my hair with some water from the sink and spritz on a little cologne. I give the attendant a ten. He’s got a very big smile on his face, but I don’t want to know why.
I walk out of the bathroom as “Another One Bites the Dust” hits and I can’t help but thinking… how appropriate. That’s when MTB practically slams into me. Crap. He must have been worried about me.
Where've you been?
Fucking. Fucking. Fucking. Can’t let him know that. It might be too much for him.
Oh, just checking a few things out.
Including that mole on her left butt cheek which she should probably see a doctor about. Ass cancer is nothing to joke about.
Oh cool. Let's get to Sandy's box.
I’m sure it won’t be anywhere near as interesting as the one I just came from, but I humor the little guy and allow myself to be led to the private room inside the VIP section. For a club called Universal this place seems to pride itself on seclusion. As expected, Sandy’s box is unimpressive. It’s obnoxiously decorated, too big, and it smells. Sandy Strachon comes right up to me and grabs my hand. What a greaseball.
So ya must be James Stall. Nice to meet ya. Ya look nothin' like ya father.
Grandfather. He’s my grandfather asshole. I happen to look a lot—well know I don’t really look much like my dad either.
Grandfather. I'm Joe's grandson.
Sandy looks surprised. This is probably because he’s a bucktoothed idiot.
Grandson!? Didn't know ol' Joe was that... old.
You’re no spring chicken yourself douchebag. I’ll admit you’ve got a hot daughter though. Is she sitting next to Marcus? Go MTB. I approve. Suddenly Sandy james a drink into my hand.
Ya can sit down, ya know. Settee's not gonna bite ya.
What the fuck’s a sette?
”Thanks.”
I sit down and take a sip of my drink. It is without a doubt the shittyest Long Island Iced Tea I have ever had, but alcohol is alcohol. I just drink it faster to get rid of it. Sandy looks like he’s about to piss himself.
Ya know, James, ya look nothin' like ya grandad. But from what I've seen, ya can be better than him. I can make sure of it if ya hire me as an agent.
If I’m ever going to be better than my grandfather it sure won’t be because you’re my agent you prick.
”I'll think about it, thanks.
Ya know I’m serious. Ya can be great kid, with the right management by ya side the sky’s the limit. Ya know I was your grandad’s first agent way back even before the days a UCW.
Oh believe me I know I’ve heard the stories.
”Yeah, and I heard sometimes he’d have to haul your drunk ass out of a bar at four in the morning, and he’d be lucky if he got paid on time.”
Ya granddad owes his career ta me.
You’re an egotistical bastard. What did you ever do for my grandfather but get him a few lousy bookings?
”He owes his career to his own talent, to his training from Alan Foulds Sr., and to men like Marcus Brody and you know it.”
That one’s got him. His face scrunches up and he takes a long sip of his drink. I wonder if Marcus heard that bit I worked in about his dad?
Talent’s got nothing ta do with it. You know who has talent? Ross Walker. And how many World Titles does he have? Exactly zero. Now Christian Lee there’s a guy with talent, flair, and a World title around his waist. Ya good kid, but without the right help along the way guys like Benny Starr and Wild Bill Legend are gonna keep runnin’ over ya.
Is that really the side you want to take? Starr and Legend? They’re your evidence? Well there’s a fatal flaw in your argument.
”For all that flair you love so much, Starr and Legend have never won FWF’s big prize. In fact, both of them failed to take the title from my Uncle. I don’t need you. I have Marcus, and together we’ll beat Legestarr.”
MTB might. He’s been carrying your team lately. Thanks to that newfound confidence I gave him.
That’s it. I don’t have to take this shit. I choose instead to ignore him and pour myself a second Long Island Iced tea. I lean toward the window and look out over the club as I drink. The dance floor is packed with people like an overfilled can of sardines. I look over at Marcus and he’s struggling with his Long Island Iced Tea.
The first sip's always the worst. It'll grow on ya, MTB. The Long Island Iced Tea is one hell of a drink. Reminds me of when I lived in The Bronx as a teenager. It was there I learned the business, and where I met ya grandad, James.
Shut the fuck up. My friends are out there somewhere, trying to find space to breathe, and maybe if they’re lucky some inattentive bartender will serve them a drink and they’ll get to move up and down in one spot pretending to dance.
But yeah, on Friday ya've got ya big match against Starr and Legend. Ya may only be in a tag title match, but if James takes my management ya could both be main-eventing Genesis someday. I can see it now in lights: "MTB vs. Stall: FWF World Championship!" People would pay to see ya both tear the house down. It'd be win-win-win when it comes to the payday!
There’s no way I would ever be managed by a scumbag like you. I don’t know what MTB sees in you, but there they are. My friends from UCW are all clumped together by one of the bar counters. I can see Adam desperately trying to get the bartender’s attention. Both Woody sisters are pressed against him. Lucky bastard. This is too much. I can’t stand it. I jump from my seat and look over at Sandy and Marcus.
“Back soon. Need to use the bathroom.”
And with that I’m out the door before anyone can say anything. I rush out of the VIP area and run down the stairs. I brush past the gay German guard, and muscle my way through the crowd. My progress is slow, but eventually I make my way to the counter where my friends are. They see me and give a shout. As I get there Adam hits me with a hard pat on the back. No time to waste though. I grab his glass of Jack Daniels and chug it before jumping on top of the bar counter.
”Friends! Comrades! Listen to me!”
The music cuts. I’m a recognizable face, and with this being Genesis week people must be thinking this is all part of the show. Still, I better make this quick.
”Look at yourselves! Crammed in here like animals while up there the pigs are laughing at you. Is this what you want? This places spits in the eye of everything our fathers and grandfathers stood for. Brotherhood! Unity! Hard work! These are the values our families fought by. And now look at you all, seduced by the false glamor of a neon façade. This place is not UCW. This place is a disgrace. It’s a sham. And people like Sandy Strachon are the worst kind of people in the world. He’s content to stand in his ivory tower and watch you sweat it out down here. People like him… people like Starr and Legend look down upon you.”
Gotta work in some Genesis stuff or people will get suspicious.
”At Genesis I will defeat Starr and Legend because I have a partner. Together we will defeat those over-priced over-fed pigs. Together, we can defeat the Sandy Strachon’s of the world. United we can do anything. Remember UCW. Remember what you stand for. Stand with me as one and together we will be triumphant. I piss on this establishment! I piss on Sandy Strachon! I piss on Starr and Legend!”
Only one thing left to do. I reach for the the zipper on my jeans and fumble with my dick for a second. I whip it out and, to the raucous cheers of my friends and utter disgust of most of the other patrons, I begin to soak the bar in my own urine. As I try my best to aim for maximum coverage with one hand I raise my other fist into the air. Out of the corner of my eye I see Surge barreling through the crowd. I jump off the bar, and, as he approaches me I kick him hard in the stomach before slamming him face first into the piss soaked bar counter breaking his nose. I toss him to the floor as my UCW friends begin to break various glasses and turn over a table or two. Nicolai runs over to us, but he is swiftly met by Adam’s boot connecting with his testicles. We begin to chant.
”U C DUB! U C DUB! U C DUB!”
The crowd joins us. I hope Sandy is enjoying the show. Me and the rest of UCW triumphantly make our way out of the bar before more security can come. Sandy won’t dare call the police though. Better to let the public think this was all an act then let them know he let people in his club get out of control. As we strut down the street Adam and I lag behind the group slighty. I clasped Adam around the shoulders and watch Stacy and Stella as they walk in front of us.
”You ever take a Woody in the ass?”
Adam just laughs.
Twice last week.
