Post by Marcus Thomas Brody, M! T! B!! on May 12, 2011 20:12:32 GMT
We'd done it! I had done it! I'd just defeated the "Super Wild" pairing of "Super" Benny Starr and "Wild" Bill Legend. What's more, I had just done something that no one had ever done before. No one had ever, ever got their shoulder up after being nailed by Benny Starr and his Super Strike. History had been made. I had kicked out of the Super Strike! That didn't mean it didn't hurt, though. I mean, it was a punch in the face. And that shit hurt like hell. I was lucky my face was still in one piece.
As much as my performance should have been hailed as a breakthrough and standout one, I found myself still feeling like I wouldn't gain anything from it. I'd planned to use the super-extravagant entrance that Sandy Strachon had designed for me back in September, but instead, I found myself entering with little fanfare to the UCW theme with James by my side. To top it all off, James had persuaded a certain man into our corner. A man who got the biggest reaction of the three of us. Yet again, I was stuck in the one place I'd been trying to break free of: my father's shadow. MTB may have pretty much single-handedly won what was billed as the biggest tag team match in history, but Marcus Brody Sr. won the crowd despite only hitting a German Suplex on Azmodai.
Let me take you back to just an hour before Genesis. James had told me in the locker room that he'd got my father to be in our corner. I'd never told James about our issues, but I was certain his grandad filled him in since I could almost guarantee that my dad would've told him. I had to be wary of James; I just couldn't trust him, especially after the way he'd disrespected Sandy. Was there anything more disrespectful than urinating all over the bar of a man's club? I hadn't a clue what was going on in James' mind. I know I hadn't paid attention to him that night, since my mind was awash with thoughts of the stunningly gorgeous Aurora Strachon, Sandy's daughter, who had given me my first kiss. Of course, that came once Sandy had left the room to deal with the chaos that James had caused by using the bar as a urinal. I guess I should've been grateful, given that James had inadvertently wingmanned the hell out of me.
Oh yeah, where was I? Ah, that's right. James had gone behind my back to get Marcus Brody Sr. involved in my match and I hadn't the slightest idea what to do. As expected of me, my first instinct was to find Sandy. It was actually easier than I thought it would be too; he was at the catering table talking to The Predator, who was tapping his cane whilst eyeing up some hot wings. I nervously walked up behind Sandy's left shoulder, not wanting to interrupt his chat with Predator. I was standing like a lemon for a few seconds until Predator noticed me.
The Predator: Sandy, I think MTB wants a word with you.
Sandy Strachon: Oh?
Sandy turned his head and greeted me with his usual toothy grin before patting me on the shoulder.
Sandy Strachon: Ah, MTB. What brings ya here?
MTB: Umm, it's about James.
I could see his nostrils flare. He'd still not forgiven James for his piss-soaked bar and the beating that Nikolai and The Sarge had been given.
Sandy Strachon: If he wants to apologise, he should come to me himself.
MTB: No! No, it's not that. Have you heard what he's done now?
Sandy Strachon: Pissed all over Sam's announce table?
I was sure that somewhere Tom Briggs and Johnny Legend were contemplating doing something along those lines after Sam Strachon and Ernest Bethea replaced them as FWF's main commentators. Predator had walked away a little bit and was piling hot wings and other various snacks onto a plate, all while trying to balance on his cane.
MTB: He's got my dad to be in our corner.
Sandy Strachon: He has?
His extraordinarily thick eyebrows were raised with surprise but his eyes looked at me with bemusement. There was something personal between him and my dad but no one ever seemed to know what it was.
Sandy Strachon: What about The Breakfast Table? Thought I hired 'em to protect ya.
MTB: Yeah, about that... Bean snatched his gun back while Sausage wasn't looking and accidentally set it off while pointing it at a painting of Sir Alex Ferguson, so security threw them out. What do you think I should do?
Sandy paused for a moment to contemplate his answer, pacing around and taking in the framed photographs of Manchester United's 1999 Treble winning season.
Sandy Strachon: Ya need to keep yer image up. Ya need to act like yer still gettin' on. Ya should do an interview and introduce him too. He might come in handy, ya know.
The more I thought about it, the reaction for him could be interpreted in two ways: either he takes my spotlight, or it makes me look smart for choosing him to be in my corner. After all, he was considered one of the all-time greats, so he may be useful for helping me get a victory. So I nodded my head to approve Sandy's suggestion.
MTB: Thanks, Sandy.
Sandy Strachon: No problem, kiddo. Now I best get back to Pred. He's tellin' me some stuff about the Lost Heroes League. All the best for yer match.
I headed straight back to the dressing rooms, but I couldn't resist grabbing a hot wing as I left. My, that was one tasty wing. I could see why Predator would go on about them when training me. Sandy went back to his conversation with The Predator (or is that Commissioner Predator now?) Obviously, there's no need to tell you what went on since you know what happened at Genesis VIII. James and I won, well, I won, and James' grandfather won the FWF World Championship by making Christian Lee tap out to the Captain Clutch. To keep up my appearances, and to pander to the fans, I followed my dad to the ring to celebrate "Captain" Joe Stall's big win. At least it meant I got to taste some of the glory by being involved in the closing moments of Genesis, which was one big-arse feather in my metaphorical cap. I never actually wore caps, though. Too chavvy. But yeah, to be honest, I spent most of the celebration staring in awe at the World Championship belt, which came across as if I was in awe of Stall.
Despite living in Sandy Strachon's mansion, I didn't see him at all over the weekend. I didn't see Aurora or Sam either. We didn't eat together, we just looked after ourselves. I will admit, I made one hell of an amazing Chicken Alfredo. However, I did manage to see Seth off on Saturday morning. I spent the majority of the weekend in Sandy's TV room watching and rewatching Genesis. The TV room was similar to the one in Commissioner Predator's house, what with the blood red walls that met with sofas that stretched across the majority of three of the walls. Like Predator's, the fourth wall was home to the TV. However, in the Strachon house, the fourth wall was the television. Sandy had had it imported from Japan, and it looked like it cost a lot. As I got up to the main event for the thirty-seventh time on Sunday afternoon, Sandy walked through the door in black shorts and a black t-shirt, clutching a piece of paper in his left hand. He slouched next to me on the sofa and let out a sigh. He set his hairy legs up on a mahogany coffee table, and greeted me with raised eyebrows.
Sandy Strachon: Good thing yer watchin' this match, MTB. I just got an e-mail from Pred.
MTB: Saying?
Sandy Strachon: It's a list of the warriors he's chosen for the Lost Heroes League, and the first pairings.
He handed me the scrunched up piece of paper. I uncrumpled it, and read it aloud.
MTB: Me, WBL, Christian Lee, Matthew "The Raven" Knox, Oswald Brodd, Sah'ta Thor, Timothy Edward Vortex, and... James Stall.
Oh good, I knew that would be a match I'd look forward to. I'd be able to prove that I was the star of the "team" and to avenge Sandy's club. But was I to face him first. I read down the list to see the matches. So, James would be facing WBL on Live-Wire, Brodd would be facing Thor, and I would be up against...
MTB: Christian Lee. My first match is against Christian Lee.
Sandy Strachon: That's what the e-mail says.
I clasped my hands together and held them behind my head. This was brilliant. It would be a tough match, that was a guarantee. Christian Lee was the former World Champion, and the last match I had with him was a tough one too. I'd taken him to the limit, but he ruined it all by resorting to a low blow, getting himself disqualified.
MTB: Good. I hope he's not forgotten everything he's done to me.
Sandy Strachon: What was there? Remind me.
I took the deepest of breaths.
MTB: He picked me to join The Empire last year, and had me do an initiation the night of my Jealousy tournament match with Ross.
For those who don't recall it, I was made to steal a shark from James Bohne and Camisado. It took my focus off the match with "The" Ross Walker and I suffered my first defeat. Ross went on to win the Jealousy Tournament. Had I beat Ross, I could have won Jealousy. Christian Lee had screwed me.
MTB: Then he used me to weaken Thor for their Jealousy World Title match.
Yeah, he'd handpicked me for a 'Pick Your Poison' match and, after Christian Lee interfered, I drove Thor into the ring post (making him bleed) before sending him back into the ring to finish him with The Suplex Machine. Thor went on to lose at Jealousy. Christian Lee had used me.
MTB: Then, let's see. FWF came back in March and he attacked me after his match with James Stall, smashing the World title in my face and hitting me with the Glamour Slam, giving me a concussion.
And with that concussion, I entered the Blizzard match at number twelve, somehow eliminated Chris Knite and lasted six minutes before my concussion got the better of me and Oswald Brodd threw me over and out. Christian Lee had screwed me. Again.
MTB: And the Live-Wire after that. I had my match with him won. WBL and Benny Starr came running in. I fought them off. Christian Lee low blowed me. I won by DQ. All three of them beat me down. Christian Lee had bruised me. [/color]
Sandy Strachon: What about that radio interview he did about ya before that match?
Huh? What was he on about? I leaned forward, ready to listen intently.
MTB: What radio interview?
Sandy Strachon: Oh, it was jus' before yer last match with him. I've got a transcript on my phone. Hang on.
He reached into the right pocket of his shorts and pulled out a Blackberry Curve. He pressed a few keys and handed it over to me. I skimmed through it a few times, taking note of things he'd said about me. I could feel my nose crinkle with frustration at his words.
MTB: "Borders on mediocrity?" "Lives off the family name?" "Tool?!" "Loser!?" And I apparently let him down!? And how did he know about things I've only said to you and my dad in private? The old Brody must've opened his big gob.
I seethed through gritted teeth, running my left hand through my thick hair as I held the phone in my right. I was definitely due a haircut soon, but that wasn't important. What was important was my match with Christian Lee. This time it wasn't just a Live-Wire main event. This time it wasn't just a grudge match. This time it was a Lost Heroes League match. This time it was for three points. Three crucial points that were important to me.
Let me take you back to about a year ago. There was another hiatus in FWF, but this wasn't due to a management crisis (well, it kind of was as it saw Pain buy Mike Farrell's half of FWF) but because everyone was given time off to mourn the tragic passing of Dan "Dragon" Taylor. I'd not even debuted yet. I didn't even have an FWF contract. I was still training with The Predator. After a brutal session where I took move after move, had to lug giant sandbags about, and was held in the Preysnatcher and various other submissions for over two hours, Predator showed me into his trophy room.
Actually, thinking about it, Predator showed me how to counter different kinds of moves into the Preysnatcher and I think one of them was the cutter, which was what the Starstruck was. I knew that would come in handy for a match with Christian Lee.
Royal blue velvet curtains hung around the white washed walls of a room the size of your average classroom. In front of all the drapes were class cases propped up on mahogany pulpits containing an assortment of championship belts, trophies, numerous plaques and a collection of name plates. I was sure that Predator kept them as badges of honour after winning championships from his opponents. The farthest wall from the door had three belts, each in their own glass case, resting on black cushions.
The Predator: Okay, so on the left, it's the FWF Heavyweight Championship, on the right is the FWF World Heavyweight Championship, and in the middle... is the UCW Championship. All three mean a lot to me, and all three retired with me.
My mouth was open wide with awe. I spent a minute or two admiring the gold until one thing in particular caught my eye. Its silver basin glistened under the dim light of the room. I went over for a closer look and noticed the handles were designed to resemble dragons and the cup was connected to the neck by a silver lion's head. The whole silver structure stood on a darkly varnished pine base and had a silver plaque at the front. The top of it was engraved with the words "Lost Heroes Trophy" and below that to the left in smaller letters was "The Predator: 2008-" Predator noticed that the trophy had my attention, so he came over and placed a large, scarred arm around me.
The Predator: I see you've taken a shine to the Lost Heroes Trophy. A beauty, isn't it?
Marcus T. Brody: It really is, Mr. Predator.
The Predator: You know, I still remember the Jealousy tournament I won this. Jealousy V in July 2008, almost two years ago. In the first round, I defended the World Heavyweight title against Prozac. In the quarters, I went all UCW on Sah'ta Thor in what was considered one of his best matches. In the semis, I beat Benny Starr, becoming the first person to ever kick out of the Super Strike in the process.
Damn it! Predator beat me to it! I thought I was the first. But from the commentary, it was safe to say that no one remembered it.
The Predator: And then, in the final, I had my only match with King of Kings, and won the trophy. This trophy symbolises everything my generation ever stood for. Respect, passion, and giving it your all. Things that guys myself, Dan, Pain, and your dad all stood for. We're all from a past generation, and to keep the legacy of the Lost Heroes alive, Pain and I have been talking about reintroducing the trophy. Not sure how we could crown the new holder, though. Any ideas?
Marcus T. Brody: Do you watch any sports other than wrestling, Mr. Predator?
Predator shook his head. For the first time ever, I actually had one up on him in terms of knowledge.
Marcus T. Brody: Well, in some sports, they have a league with points for a win, shared points for a draw, and none for a loss, and after all the teams have played each other, the top two teams go through to a play-off to decide who gets the trophy. Maybe you could try something like that.
Predator stroked his stubble for a moment. Judging by his eyes, gears were turning in his mind.
The Predator: That's great, Marcus. Thanks. I'll suggest it to Pain. You never know, you might end up winning this trophy yourself. Want a teaser?
I nodded and smiled as he pulled a set of keys from the back pocket of his jeans and, once he found the right key, he opened the glass case and pulled out the Lost Heroes Trophy in all its glory. He gently eased it into my hands and I couldn't believe it. I was holding Lost Heroes Trophy! I pictured myself holding it aloft in the ring after winning it. One day. One day, I hoped that I would live that fantasy...
And so the Lost Heroes League was born. The idea that everyone thought was The Predator's was actually mine. In fact, I'd like to say that the trophy was mine to win, since this was my league! I had to win it! But in order to win it, I had to get points. I had to start strong with a victory over Christian Lee. His comments from six weeks ago had me incensed. I did not border on mediocrity! I was anything but mediocre. My run of form spoke for itself. I was the one who single-handedly defended the Elite Tag Team Championships at Genesis. As for living off the family name, hadn't he noticed that I was trying to distance myself from it? I was trying to get the emphasis off the 'Brody' part of my marketing the name 'MTB.' I turned back to Sandy, who was looking at me with concern. His eyebrows were examining me.
Sandy Strachon: Ya okay, MTB?
MTB: Yeah. Just thinking about the things Christian Lee has said. He said that I let him down. Wasn't it me who made his job easier at Jealousy by weakening his challenger? Wasn't he the one who had to resort to low blows and outside interference when I had him pinned? And isn't it he who isn't on form?
All Sandy could do was nod. There was a brief pause before he finally responded.
Sandy Strachon: Yeah, yer right, kiddo. He got himself disqualified against J-James Stall...
I could see his face going sour as he mentioned that name.
Sandy Strachon: Then he got himself disqualified against ya. He only beat "The" Ross Walker when Ross wasn't even cleared to compete. Then he got his new bodyguard to replace him against Danny T, and then he lost the title by tapping out to a sixty-year old man. He doesn't stand a chance against ya.
I had to be wary of Freddie Jynx. Maybe The Breakfast Table were available. It would be two on one, so they wouldn't need a gun to handle Jynx. I couldn't take Christian Lee lightly, though. Being the former champion could have ended up motivating him. He would want to reassert himself in the title picture now he's lost it, but I... I had a thirst. A thirst to prove to myself, to him and to everyone I was not a "tool" or a "loser." A thirst to ensure that once the bell rang, the winner of the match would be: Marcus Thomas Brody... M! T! B!!! I would no longer just be a tag team wrestler. I would become the greatest singles wrestler of all time too. Better than my dad. Better than The Predator. Better than Pain. Better, than Dan "Dragon" Taylor. And it would all start with three points...
MTB: You know, Sandy. I think FWF's found its new Lost Hero.
All Sandy could do was smile with pride. I needed to train extra hard the next few days. The first three points were in sight.
As much as my performance should have been hailed as a breakthrough and standout one, I found myself still feeling like I wouldn't gain anything from it. I'd planned to use the super-extravagant entrance that Sandy Strachon had designed for me back in September, but instead, I found myself entering with little fanfare to the UCW theme with James by my side. To top it all off, James had persuaded a certain man into our corner. A man who got the biggest reaction of the three of us. Yet again, I was stuck in the one place I'd been trying to break free of: my father's shadow. MTB may have pretty much single-handedly won what was billed as the biggest tag team match in history, but Marcus Brody Sr. won the crowd despite only hitting a German Suplex on Azmodai.
Let me take you back to just an hour before Genesis. James had told me in the locker room that he'd got my father to be in our corner. I'd never told James about our issues, but I was certain his grandad filled him in since I could almost guarantee that my dad would've told him. I had to be wary of James; I just couldn't trust him, especially after the way he'd disrespected Sandy. Was there anything more disrespectful than urinating all over the bar of a man's club? I hadn't a clue what was going on in James' mind. I know I hadn't paid attention to him that night, since my mind was awash with thoughts of the stunningly gorgeous Aurora Strachon, Sandy's daughter, who had given me my first kiss. Of course, that came once Sandy had left the room to deal with the chaos that James had caused by using the bar as a urinal. I guess I should've been grateful, given that James had inadvertently wingmanned the hell out of me.
Oh yeah, where was I? Ah, that's right. James had gone behind my back to get Marcus Brody Sr. involved in my match and I hadn't the slightest idea what to do. As expected of me, my first instinct was to find Sandy. It was actually easier than I thought it would be too; he was at the catering table talking to The Predator, who was tapping his cane whilst eyeing up some hot wings. I nervously walked up behind Sandy's left shoulder, not wanting to interrupt his chat with Predator. I was standing like a lemon for a few seconds until Predator noticed me.
The Predator: Sandy, I think MTB wants a word with you.
Sandy Strachon: Oh?
Sandy turned his head and greeted me with his usual toothy grin before patting me on the shoulder.
Sandy Strachon: Ah, MTB. What brings ya here?
MTB: Umm, it's about James.
I could see his nostrils flare. He'd still not forgiven James for his piss-soaked bar and the beating that Nikolai and The Sarge had been given.
Sandy Strachon: If he wants to apologise, he should come to me himself.
MTB: No! No, it's not that. Have you heard what he's done now?
Sandy Strachon: Pissed all over Sam's announce table?
I was sure that somewhere Tom Briggs and Johnny Legend were contemplating doing something along those lines after Sam Strachon and Ernest Bethea replaced them as FWF's main commentators. Predator had walked away a little bit and was piling hot wings and other various snacks onto a plate, all while trying to balance on his cane.
MTB: He's got my dad to be in our corner.
Sandy Strachon: He has?
His extraordinarily thick eyebrows were raised with surprise but his eyes looked at me with bemusement. There was something personal between him and my dad but no one ever seemed to know what it was.
Sandy Strachon: What about The Breakfast Table? Thought I hired 'em to protect ya.
MTB: Yeah, about that... Bean snatched his gun back while Sausage wasn't looking and accidentally set it off while pointing it at a painting of Sir Alex Ferguson, so security threw them out. What do you think I should do?
Sandy paused for a moment to contemplate his answer, pacing around and taking in the framed photographs of Manchester United's 1999 Treble winning season.
Sandy Strachon: Ya need to keep yer image up. Ya need to act like yer still gettin' on. Ya should do an interview and introduce him too. He might come in handy, ya know.
The more I thought about it, the reaction for him could be interpreted in two ways: either he takes my spotlight, or it makes me look smart for choosing him to be in my corner. After all, he was considered one of the all-time greats, so he may be useful for helping me get a victory. So I nodded my head to approve Sandy's suggestion.
MTB: Thanks, Sandy.
Sandy Strachon: No problem, kiddo. Now I best get back to Pred. He's tellin' me some stuff about the Lost Heroes League. All the best for yer match.
I headed straight back to the dressing rooms, but I couldn't resist grabbing a hot wing as I left. My, that was one tasty wing. I could see why Predator would go on about them when training me. Sandy went back to his conversation with The Predator (or is that Commissioner Predator now?) Obviously, there's no need to tell you what went on since you know what happened at Genesis VIII. James and I won, well, I won, and James' grandfather won the FWF World Championship by making Christian Lee tap out to the Captain Clutch. To keep up my appearances, and to pander to the fans, I followed my dad to the ring to celebrate "Captain" Joe Stall's big win. At least it meant I got to taste some of the glory by being involved in the closing moments of Genesis, which was one big-arse feather in my metaphorical cap. I never actually wore caps, though. Too chavvy. But yeah, to be honest, I spent most of the celebration staring in awe at the World Championship belt, which came across as if I was in awe of Stall.
****
Despite living in Sandy Strachon's mansion, I didn't see him at all over the weekend. I didn't see Aurora or Sam either. We didn't eat together, we just looked after ourselves. I will admit, I made one hell of an amazing Chicken Alfredo. However, I did manage to see Seth off on Saturday morning. I spent the majority of the weekend in Sandy's TV room watching and rewatching Genesis. The TV room was similar to the one in Commissioner Predator's house, what with the blood red walls that met with sofas that stretched across the majority of three of the walls. Like Predator's, the fourth wall was home to the TV. However, in the Strachon house, the fourth wall was the television. Sandy had had it imported from Japan, and it looked like it cost a lot. As I got up to the main event for the thirty-seventh time on Sunday afternoon, Sandy walked through the door in black shorts and a black t-shirt, clutching a piece of paper in his left hand. He slouched next to me on the sofa and let out a sigh. He set his hairy legs up on a mahogany coffee table, and greeted me with raised eyebrows.
Sandy Strachon: Good thing yer watchin' this match, MTB. I just got an e-mail from Pred.
MTB: Saying?
Sandy Strachon: It's a list of the warriors he's chosen for the Lost Heroes League, and the first pairings.
He handed me the scrunched up piece of paper. I uncrumpled it, and read it aloud.
MTB: Me, WBL, Christian Lee, Matthew "The Raven" Knox, Oswald Brodd, Sah'ta Thor, Timothy Edward Vortex, and... James Stall.
Oh good, I knew that would be a match I'd look forward to. I'd be able to prove that I was the star of the "team" and to avenge Sandy's club. But was I to face him first. I read down the list to see the matches. So, James would be facing WBL on Live-Wire, Brodd would be facing Thor, and I would be up against...
MTB: Christian Lee. My first match is against Christian Lee.
Sandy Strachon: That's what the e-mail says.
I clasped my hands together and held them behind my head. This was brilliant. It would be a tough match, that was a guarantee. Christian Lee was the former World Champion, and the last match I had with him was a tough one too. I'd taken him to the limit, but he ruined it all by resorting to a low blow, getting himself disqualified.
MTB: Good. I hope he's not forgotten everything he's done to me.
Sandy Strachon: What was there? Remind me.
I took the deepest of breaths.
MTB: He picked me to join The Empire last year, and had me do an initiation the night of my Jealousy tournament match with Ross.
For those who don't recall it, I was made to steal a shark from James Bohne and Camisado. It took my focus off the match with "The" Ross Walker and I suffered my first defeat. Ross went on to win the Jealousy Tournament. Had I beat Ross, I could have won Jealousy. Christian Lee had screwed me.
MTB: Then he used me to weaken Thor for their Jealousy World Title match.
Yeah, he'd handpicked me for a 'Pick Your Poison' match and, after Christian Lee interfered, I drove Thor into the ring post (making him bleed) before sending him back into the ring to finish him with The Suplex Machine. Thor went on to lose at Jealousy. Christian Lee had used me.
MTB: Then, let's see. FWF came back in March and he attacked me after his match with James Stall, smashing the World title in my face and hitting me with the Glamour Slam, giving me a concussion.
And with that concussion, I entered the Blizzard match at number twelve, somehow eliminated Chris Knite and lasted six minutes before my concussion got the better of me and Oswald Brodd threw me over and out. Christian Lee had screwed me. Again.
MTB: And the Live-Wire after that. I had my match with him won. WBL and Benny Starr came running in. I fought them off. Christian Lee low blowed me. I won by DQ. All three of them beat me down. Christian Lee had bruised me. [/color]
Sandy Strachon: What about that radio interview he did about ya before that match?
Huh? What was he on about? I leaned forward, ready to listen intently.
MTB: What radio interview?
Sandy Strachon: Oh, it was jus' before yer last match with him. I've got a transcript on my phone. Hang on.
He reached into the right pocket of his shorts and pulled out a Blackberry Curve. He pressed a few keys and handed it over to me. I skimmed through it a few times, taking note of things he'd said about me. I could feel my nose crinkle with frustration at his words.
MTB: "Borders on mediocrity?" "Lives off the family name?" "Tool?!" "Loser!?" And I apparently let him down!? And how did he know about things I've only said to you and my dad in private? The old Brody must've opened his big gob.
I seethed through gritted teeth, running my left hand through my thick hair as I held the phone in my right. I was definitely due a haircut soon, but that wasn't important. What was important was my match with Christian Lee. This time it wasn't just a Live-Wire main event. This time it wasn't just a grudge match. This time it was a Lost Heroes League match. This time it was for three points. Three crucial points that were important to me.
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Let me take you back to about a year ago. There was another hiatus in FWF, but this wasn't due to a management crisis (well, it kind of was as it saw Pain buy Mike Farrell's half of FWF) but because everyone was given time off to mourn the tragic passing of Dan "Dragon" Taylor. I'd not even debuted yet. I didn't even have an FWF contract. I was still training with The Predator. After a brutal session where I took move after move, had to lug giant sandbags about, and was held in the Preysnatcher and various other submissions for over two hours, Predator showed me into his trophy room.
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Actually, thinking about it, Predator showed me how to counter different kinds of moves into the Preysnatcher and I think one of them was the cutter, which was what the Starstruck was. I knew that would come in handy for a match with Christian Lee.
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Royal blue velvet curtains hung around the white washed walls of a room the size of your average classroom. In front of all the drapes were class cases propped up on mahogany pulpits containing an assortment of championship belts, trophies, numerous plaques and a collection of name plates. I was sure that Predator kept them as badges of honour after winning championships from his opponents. The farthest wall from the door had three belts, each in their own glass case, resting on black cushions.
The Predator: Okay, so on the left, it's the FWF Heavyweight Championship, on the right is the FWF World Heavyweight Championship, and in the middle... is the UCW Championship. All three mean a lot to me, and all three retired with me.
My mouth was open wide with awe. I spent a minute or two admiring the gold until one thing in particular caught my eye. Its silver basin glistened under the dim light of the room. I went over for a closer look and noticed the handles were designed to resemble dragons and the cup was connected to the neck by a silver lion's head. The whole silver structure stood on a darkly varnished pine base and had a silver plaque at the front. The top of it was engraved with the words "Lost Heroes Trophy" and below that to the left in smaller letters was "The Predator: 2008-" Predator noticed that the trophy had my attention, so he came over and placed a large, scarred arm around me.
The Predator: I see you've taken a shine to the Lost Heroes Trophy. A beauty, isn't it?
Marcus T. Brody: It really is, Mr. Predator.
The Predator: You know, I still remember the Jealousy tournament I won this. Jealousy V in July 2008, almost two years ago. In the first round, I defended the World Heavyweight title against Prozac. In the quarters, I went all UCW on Sah'ta Thor in what was considered one of his best matches. In the semis, I beat Benny Starr, becoming the first person to ever kick out of the Super Strike in the process.
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Damn it! Predator beat me to it! I thought I was the first. But from the commentary, it was safe to say that no one remembered it.
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The Predator: And then, in the final, I had my only match with King of Kings, and won the trophy. This trophy symbolises everything my generation ever stood for. Respect, passion, and giving it your all. Things that guys myself, Dan, Pain, and your dad all stood for. We're all from a past generation, and to keep the legacy of the Lost Heroes alive, Pain and I have been talking about reintroducing the trophy. Not sure how we could crown the new holder, though. Any ideas?
Marcus T. Brody: Do you watch any sports other than wrestling, Mr. Predator?
Predator shook his head. For the first time ever, I actually had one up on him in terms of knowledge.
Marcus T. Brody: Well, in some sports, they have a league with points for a win, shared points for a draw, and none for a loss, and after all the teams have played each other, the top two teams go through to a play-off to decide who gets the trophy. Maybe you could try something like that.
Predator stroked his stubble for a moment. Judging by his eyes, gears were turning in his mind.
The Predator: That's great, Marcus. Thanks. I'll suggest it to Pain. You never know, you might end up winning this trophy yourself. Want a teaser?
I nodded and smiled as he pulled a set of keys from the back pocket of his jeans and, once he found the right key, he opened the glass case and pulled out the Lost Heroes Trophy in all its glory. He gently eased it into my hands and I couldn't believe it. I was holding Lost Heroes Trophy! I pictured myself holding it aloft in the ring after winning it. One day. One day, I hoped that I would live that fantasy...
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And so the Lost Heroes League was born. The idea that everyone thought was The Predator's was actually mine. In fact, I'd like to say that the trophy was mine to win, since this was my league! I had to win it! But in order to win it, I had to get points. I had to start strong with a victory over Christian Lee. His comments from six weeks ago had me incensed. I did not border on mediocrity! I was anything but mediocre. My run of form spoke for itself. I was the one who single-handedly defended the Elite Tag Team Championships at Genesis. As for living off the family name, hadn't he noticed that I was trying to distance myself from it? I was trying to get the emphasis off the 'Brody' part of my marketing the name 'MTB.' I turned back to Sandy, who was looking at me with concern. His eyebrows were examining me.
Sandy Strachon: Ya okay, MTB?
MTB: Yeah. Just thinking about the things Christian Lee has said. He said that I let him down. Wasn't it me who made his job easier at Jealousy by weakening his challenger? Wasn't he the one who had to resort to low blows and outside interference when I had him pinned? And isn't it he who isn't on form?
All Sandy could do was nod. There was a brief pause before he finally responded.
Sandy Strachon: Yeah, yer right, kiddo. He got himself disqualified against J-James Stall...
I could see his face going sour as he mentioned that name.
Sandy Strachon: Then he got himself disqualified against ya. He only beat "The" Ross Walker when Ross wasn't even cleared to compete. Then he got his new bodyguard to replace him against Danny T, and then he lost the title by tapping out to a sixty-year old man. He doesn't stand a chance against ya.
I had to be wary of Freddie Jynx. Maybe The Breakfast Table were available. It would be two on one, so they wouldn't need a gun to handle Jynx. I couldn't take Christian Lee lightly, though. Being the former champion could have ended up motivating him. He would want to reassert himself in the title picture now he's lost it, but I... I had a thirst. A thirst to prove to myself, to him and to everyone I was not a "tool" or a "loser." A thirst to ensure that once the bell rang, the winner of the match would be: Marcus Thomas Brody... M! T! B!!! I would no longer just be a tag team wrestler. I would become the greatest singles wrestler of all time too. Better than my dad. Better than The Predator. Better than Pain. Better, than Dan "Dragon" Taylor. And it would all start with three points...
MTB: You know, Sandy. I think FWF's found its new Lost Hero.
All Sandy could do was smile with pride. I needed to train extra hard the next few days. The first three points were in sight.