Post by Marcus Thomas Brody, M! T! B!! on Jun 9, 2011 16:12:46 GMT
A lot can happen in a year. As clichéd as it sounds, it's true. June 9th 2010, I made my FWF debut. And what an impact I made. Introduced by the Hall of Famer, The Predator, I made my way to the ring, and won. Well, if you look in the record book, James Stall got the win. Back then, we were fairly equal. We were both rookies. We'd both been trained by family, and we'd both been trained by The Predator, arguably the greatest warrior of all time. Of course, some of us evolve much faster than others...
You see, at that time, I was still carrying everything that held me back, especially my shyness. I had no self esteem, no confidence, could barely talk to anyone, was a greenhorn in the ring and I'd never even kissed a girl. Quite frankly, I was a bit of a loser. Fast-forward to June 9th 2011 and check me out. I had self esteem, I had confidence, I could strike up a conversation with anyone, I was showcasing my talents in the ring, defeating numerous former World Champions, and I even kissed a girl- Aurora Strachon to be specific, the most beautiful girl I'd laid my eyes on. Quite frankly, I was so fucking awesome! Now, a year passing meant one other thing... My initial contract was up.
MTB: Okay, so let's see this list of terms.
Sandy Strachon: Yeah, here ya go.
Okay, so for those who aren't too familiar with me, I was one of the only FWF Warriors with an agent. In my case, that's Sandy Strachon, the father of commentator Sam Strachon. He slid a yellow legal pad across the mahogany table of a conference room he'd managed to get us at the arena for that night's Live-Wire. On a side note, why is it that almost every conference rooms seems to have mahogany tables and plain white-washed walls decorated with various framed "motivational" posters or abstract art? I glanced through the list and just stared over at Sandy, who was moving his abnormally thick eyebrows as he grinned at me.
MTB: So we have: Rematch clause...
Sandy Strachon: Well, if ya ever lose a title, ya get a rematch.
MTB: I know. I was reading aloud. But it makes sense. Not that I plan on losing any titles I win... Private dressing room?
Sandy just nodded.
MTB: Why would I need that?
Sandy Strachon: Come on, MTB. Yer the star of the show. Yer the only guy who's not lost since I b- I mean since FWF came back. Yer already a star. Yer the most talented on the roster. Everyone else is below ya. Does royalty fraternise with the peasants?
MTB: Didn't Prince William just marry Kate Middleton?
Sandy Strachon: Okay, bad example... but ya get my point?
MTB: I guess...
I wasn't too sure. I didn't want to alienate everyone. But then again, privacy is always a great thing, and it would meant it'd be impossible for anyone to do anything to my stuff. They were all jealous of my talent. They'd want to try and crush my spirit. I know it worked in high school.
Sandy Strachon: So what did I write next?
MTB: Water fountains....
Seriously?
Sandy Strachon: Ah yeah. For yer entrance. They'll look cool, and they'll show yer a big deal. People will cheer with anticipation whilst the fountains go off during the intro to "Livin' on a Prayer." They'll look on in awe. Plus, it saves ya showering before yer match. Ya can shower on the way to the ring.
He had a point. Fountains are awesome. And I don't think anyone else has used water fountains in their entrance before.
MTB: Sounds good. A bucket of hot wings delivered to me before every show...
How odd? What a strange demand...
Sandy Strachon: Come on, hot wings are the secret to success. I'm sure if ya ask Predator, he'll tell ya the same.
Oh he told me, all right. We'd always be given hot wings after training at The Predator's house. I didn't want to get hungry so i rushed things along by nodding with agreement. Sandy rubbed his hands together, grinning at me as if he'd just found buried treasure.
Sandy Strachon: Yer gonna like the last one. Since your last contract only got you $100,000. That's...
MTB: £60,972.72
Sandy's jaw dropped with amazement. I figured he hadn't seen anyone divide 100,000 by 1.64008 in their head before.
Sandy Strachon: How'd ya do that?
I smirked.
MTB: Maths degree.
Sandy Strachon: I was gonna say it's not enough for a man of yer talents, ability and success. Ya need more.
MTB: How much are you thinking?
Sandy gave me his smug grin.
Sandy Strachon: 200,000...
MTB: That's good....
Sandy Strachon: ...a month. Plus Championship bonuses.
I jolted with shock. In fact, I jolted so hard, I had to grab the edge of the table to stop myself falling off my chair. Two hundred grand a month! That was 2.4 million a year! But hold on...
MTB: Is that in dollars?
Sandy shook his head. I was getting butterflies in my stomach. I could have never imagined earning such an amount of money in my twenty-two years of being! £2,400,000 a year! That was nearly $4 Million!!!! And I wasn't even counting championship bonuses.
Sandy Strachon: Haha, ya like that don't ya?
MTB: Yes, Sandy. But I don't think Pain will agree to any of these terms. Except maybe for the rematch clause. He's had plenty of those himself.
Sandy Strachon: Oh trust me, MTB. I'm the best agent out there. I always get the yes.
I was sure that somewhere else in the arena, my opponent would be having a similar conversation with his own agent. Yes, "Super" Benny Starr was the only other FWF Warrior with an agent. In fact, there were a few similarities between us. Firstly, we seemed to have similar music tastes; he clearly liked the '80s judging by his entrance music, and the fact that he used to use my music when he first started out. Secondly, we both enjoyed the perks of life and lived in lush houses. He lived in a mansion in Hollywood, and I lived in the Chateau de Strachon. I'd seen his house on FWF programming before. Like the Strachon Castle, he had a pool, and it was so big, it seemed like you could get lost in the hallways. And, of course, the fact we both had agents. Me with Sandy Strachon, and Benny with Mark Briggs, former Live-Wire Director of Authority. I took a swig from bottle of water in front of me and sighed to get Sandy's attention.
MTB: Sandy...
Sandy Strachon: MTB...
MTB: Briggs will be ringside tonight, won't he?
Sandy Strachon: Yeah. Most likely. You have that partner of yours though.
I didn't respond for a moment. It was an awkward silence. I still don't think Sandy had quite forgiven James for his actions before Genesis. Apparently, the bar in Universal was still smelling of James' urine.
MTB: About that... not only is he unreliable, I don't think he can help me at all. You've been a lawyer. Could you take a look at something?
Sandy Strachon: Sure, what is it?
I reached into the left inside pocket of my blazer and rummaged through it. So phone, keys, ID, ah there it was. I pulled out a folded up piece of paper, and opened it up, passing it to Sandy. He read through it, brushing a hand through his thick hair as he re-read it.
Sandy Strachon: "If at any point, unless in sanctioned competition, James Stall or Marcus Thomas Brody unlawfully touch Benjamin Starr, William Legend or any member of the Entourage, then legal action will be taken." Looks straight forward. Unless yer in a match with any of them, ya can't touch 'em.
MTB: So if I get attacked during the match, I can't fight back?
Sandy Strachon: Yer not in a match with Briggs, WBL, or any of their entourage so ya can only touch Benny Starr.
MTB: I see...
I rubbed my chin in contemplation, Surely there had to be some sort of loophole? There was no chance I was going down without a fight. Not after the amount of shit like this I'd been through in my life! I thought that the bully victim Marcus Brody Jr. was no more. That I was now MTB. And just then, all of a sudden, at that moment...
MTB: Got it! Can you read that out again?
Sandy Strachon: If at any point, unless in sanctioned competition, James Stall or Marcus Thomas Brody unlawfu-
MTB: What were those names again?
Sandy Strachon: James Stall and Marcus Thomas Brody.
MTB: Bingo. Who's Marcus Thomas Brody? I'm MTB!
And with that, Sandy gave me perhaps the biggest grin he'd ever shown me. Clearly I'd just thought of something he hadn't.
Sandy Strachon: Brilliant, MTB! It's a technicality. Good eyes there.
MTB: In fact, add that to my terms. I want the ring announcers to refer to me as "Marcus Thomas Brody, M! T! B!" I don't want any emphasis on my full name, especially not the "Brody" part.
Sandy pulled a pen from inside of his suit jacket and scribbled down something on the legal pad in front of us.
MTB: Oh, and while you're at that, could you add that the commentators should not call me "Marcus" or "Marcus Thomas Brody" or "Brody" but they should refer to me as "MTB" at all times.
Sandy Strachon: Good, good. But about yer match. It looks like the odds aren't in yer favour.
MTB: It looks like it. They've got the numbers and the legal protection. I could do with some reinforcements in case anything goes awry.
Sandy Strachon: Are ya sure? Ya handled them at Genesis yerself.
MTB: I didn't have some lawyers in my way, then. I need some guys who aren't me or James Stall to even the odds. Joe Stall might come down, but he's got a main event match tonight so he'll be busy thinking of that. I'm sure Sausage and Bean are available. Just as long as they don't get thrown out for messing around with guns this time.
Sandy pulled his phone from his pocket and proceeded to check through something.
Sandy Strachon: I could do that. Just don't bank on them. I'm gonna make another call in a minute on my way to Pain's office. I'm not sure if I can be successful. Ya could say the status of this is... Unknown.
He grinned at me once more as he headed to the door. Could he really be able to get Unknown to be my back-up? The guy was a monster. Seven feet tall, an eight-time UCW Champion, and wasn't on that legal document Starr had filed. As Sandy was half way through the door, I yelled to him.
MTB: Good luck with Pain!
Sandy laughed vigorously.
Sandy Strachon: Don't underestimate me, MTB. I can handle him.
Somehow, I had a feeling he was underestimating Pain. As soon as the door closed, I spun around on the leather spinning chair and set up feet on the table. I adjusted my royal blue knee pads as I thought of ways to handle this match. It was no ordinary match. It wasn't a straight one-on-one contest like it appeared on paper. It was clear that Benny Starr would have The Entourage out with him. It was clear they'd get involved. I had to hope that Unknown and The Breakfast Table would show up to take them on, since I'm sure that even on my technicality of being MTB and not Marcus Thomas Brody, they'd still get me arrested. That's how they rolled. As for Benny Starr himself, I knew damn well I could take him. Earlier, I said about going back in time one year to what I was like. How about going back in time to Genesis? Let's see? I was hit with the Super Strike. A move that only The Predator had ever kicked out of. And what did I do? I kicked out! And, if I also recall, I pinned him at Genesis too!
At this point, I looked back at my first year in FWF. I won my debut match against two former Heavyweight Champions. I beat Sah'ta Thor. I took "The" Ross Walker to the limit. I beat James Bohne and Camisado. I beat The Meds. I beat WBL. I beat Christian Lee! Should I beat Benny Starr, that would mean I'd beaten all three of my War Zone opponents in singles action. I would have the edge going in to War Zone, something I didn't have at Genesis. And did I mention I'd never been pinned?
June 9th 2011 meant the end of my rookie year. I was no longer a rookie, I was a warrior! I was no longer Marcus Thomas Brody, I was MTB! Hopefully it would mean a new contract. One that would make me higher paid than Benny Starr. I may have had a few things in common with Benny Starr, but at least I had talent... and hair, and soon, more money. By the time, I finished reminiscing about everything, it was nearly time for Live-Wire to begin. I jumped out of my seat, took the FWF Elite Tag Team Championship belt from the table and strapped it around my waist. I checked myself out in a mirror and my, did I look good? Naturally, there would be one belt that would look even nicer around my waist. The FWF World Championship. Perhaps if I was to beat Benny Starr, and the odds, I'd get a chance to go up the rankings and get the title shot I rightfully deserved. Just then, I saw a dark, hulking figure through the frosted glass of the door. I turned myself around and nervously stepped to it with anticipation. My heart leapt with joy and quaked with fear as I moved closer to the door. Finally, I pulled the handle and there was my ticket to success. Sandy had got me the greatest first FWF anniversary present possible. He got me answer to my legal issues. What he got me... was....
MTB: Unknown!
You see, at that time, I was still carrying everything that held me back, especially my shyness. I had no self esteem, no confidence, could barely talk to anyone, was a greenhorn in the ring and I'd never even kissed a girl. Quite frankly, I was a bit of a loser. Fast-forward to June 9th 2011 and check me out. I had self esteem, I had confidence, I could strike up a conversation with anyone, I was showcasing my talents in the ring, defeating numerous former World Champions, and I even kissed a girl- Aurora Strachon to be specific, the most beautiful girl I'd laid my eyes on. Quite frankly, I was so fucking awesome! Now, a year passing meant one other thing... My initial contract was up.
MTB: Okay, so let's see this list of terms.
Sandy Strachon: Yeah, here ya go.
Okay, so for those who aren't too familiar with me, I was one of the only FWF Warriors with an agent. In my case, that's Sandy Strachon, the father of commentator Sam Strachon. He slid a yellow legal pad across the mahogany table of a conference room he'd managed to get us at the arena for that night's Live-Wire. On a side note, why is it that almost every conference rooms seems to have mahogany tables and plain white-washed walls decorated with various framed "motivational" posters or abstract art? I glanced through the list and just stared over at Sandy, who was moving his abnormally thick eyebrows as he grinned at me.
MTB: So we have: Rematch clause...
Sandy Strachon: Well, if ya ever lose a title, ya get a rematch.
MTB: I know. I was reading aloud. But it makes sense. Not that I plan on losing any titles I win... Private dressing room?
Sandy just nodded.
MTB: Why would I need that?
Sandy Strachon: Come on, MTB. Yer the star of the show. Yer the only guy who's not lost since I b- I mean since FWF came back. Yer already a star. Yer the most talented on the roster. Everyone else is below ya. Does royalty fraternise with the peasants?
MTB: Didn't Prince William just marry Kate Middleton?
Sandy Strachon: Okay, bad example... but ya get my point?
MTB: I guess...
I wasn't too sure. I didn't want to alienate everyone. But then again, privacy is always a great thing, and it would meant it'd be impossible for anyone to do anything to my stuff. They were all jealous of my talent. They'd want to try and crush my spirit. I know it worked in high school.
Sandy Strachon: So what did I write next?
MTB: Water fountains....
Seriously?
Sandy Strachon: Ah yeah. For yer entrance. They'll look cool, and they'll show yer a big deal. People will cheer with anticipation whilst the fountains go off during the intro to "Livin' on a Prayer." They'll look on in awe. Plus, it saves ya showering before yer match. Ya can shower on the way to the ring.
He had a point. Fountains are awesome. And I don't think anyone else has used water fountains in their entrance before.
MTB: Sounds good. A bucket of hot wings delivered to me before every show...
How odd? What a strange demand...
Sandy Strachon: Come on, hot wings are the secret to success. I'm sure if ya ask Predator, he'll tell ya the same.
Oh he told me, all right. We'd always be given hot wings after training at The Predator's house. I didn't want to get hungry so i rushed things along by nodding with agreement. Sandy rubbed his hands together, grinning at me as if he'd just found buried treasure.
Sandy Strachon: Yer gonna like the last one. Since your last contract only got you $100,000. That's...
MTB: £60,972.72
Sandy's jaw dropped with amazement. I figured he hadn't seen anyone divide 100,000 by 1.64008 in their head before.
Sandy Strachon: How'd ya do that?
I smirked.
MTB: Maths degree.
Sandy Strachon: I was gonna say it's not enough for a man of yer talents, ability and success. Ya need more.
MTB: How much are you thinking?
Sandy gave me his smug grin.
Sandy Strachon: 200,000...
MTB: That's good....
Sandy Strachon: ...a month. Plus Championship bonuses.
I jolted with shock. In fact, I jolted so hard, I had to grab the edge of the table to stop myself falling off my chair. Two hundred grand a month! That was 2.4 million a year! But hold on...
MTB: Is that in dollars?
Sandy shook his head. I was getting butterflies in my stomach. I could have never imagined earning such an amount of money in my twenty-two years of being! £2,400,000 a year! That was nearly $4 Million!!!! And I wasn't even counting championship bonuses.
Sandy Strachon: Haha, ya like that don't ya?
MTB: Yes, Sandy. But I don't think Pain will agree to any of these terms. Except maybe for the rematch clause. He's had plenty of those himself.
Sandy Strachon: Oh trust me, MTB. I'm the best agent out there. I always get the yes.
I was sure that somewhere else in the arena, my opponent would be having a similar conversation with his own agent. Yes, "Super" Benny Starr was the only other FWF Warrior with an agent. In fact, there were a few similarities between us. Firstly, we seemed to have similar music tastes; he clearly liked the '80s judging by his entrance music, and the fact that he used to use my music when he first started out. Secondly, we both enjoyed the perks of life and lived in lush houses. He lived in a mansion in Hollywood, and I lived in the Chateau de Strachon. I'd seen his house on FWF programming before. Like the Strachon Castle, he had a pool, and it was so big, it seemed like you could get lost in the hallways. And, of course, the fact we both had agents. Me with Sandy Strachon, and Benny with Mark Briggs, former Live-Wire Director of Authority. I took a swig from bottle of water in front of me and sighed to get Sandy's attention.
MTB: Sandy...
Sandy Strachon: MTB...
MTB: Briggs will be ringside tonight, won't he?
Sandy Strachon: Yeah. Most likely. You have that partner of yours though.
I didn't respond for a moment. It was an awkward silence. I still don't think Sandy had quite forgiven James for his actions before Genesis. Apparently, the bar in Universal was still smelling of James' urine.
MTB: About that... not only is he unreliable, I don't think he can help me at all. You've been a lawyer. Could you take a look at something?
Sandy Strachon: Sure, what is it?
I reached into the left inside pocket of my blazer and rummaged through it. So phone, keys, ID, ah there it was. I pulled out a folded up piece of paper, and opened it up, passing it to Sandy. He read through it, brushing a hand through his thick hair as he re-read it.
Sandy Strachon: "If at any point, unless in sanctioned competition, James Stall or Marcus Thomas Brody unlawfully touch Benjamin Starr, William Legend or any member of the Entourage, then legal action will be taken." Looks straight forward. Unless yer in a match with any of them, ya can't touch 'em.
MTB: So if I get attacked during the match, I can't fight back?
Sandy Strachon: Yer not in a match with Briggs, WBL, or any of their entourage so ya can only touch Benny Starr.
MTB: I see...
I rubbed my chin in contemplation, Surely there had to be some sort of loophole? There was no chance I was going down without a fight. Not after the amount of shit like this I'd been through in my life! I thought that the bully victim Marcus Brody Jr. was no more. That I was now MTB. And just then, all of a sudden, at that moment...
MTB: Got it! Can you read that out again?
Sandy Strachon: If at any point, unless in sanctioned competition, James Stall or Marcus Thomas Brody unlawfu-
MTB: What were those names again?
Sandy Strachon: James Stall and Marcus Thomas Brody.
MTB: Bingo. Who's Marcus Thomas Brody? I'm MTB!
And with that, Sandy gave me perhaps the biggest grin he'd ever shown me. Clearly I'd just thought of something he hadn't.
Sandy Strachon: Brilliant, MTB! It's a technicality. Good eyes there.
MTB: In fact, add that to my terms. I want the ring announcers to refer to me as "Marcus Thomas Brody, M! T! B!" I don't want any emphasis on my full name, especially not the "Brody" part.
Sandy pulled a pen from inside of his suit jacket and scribbled down something on the legal pad in front of us.
MTB: Oh, and while you're at that, could you add that the commentators should not call me "Marcus" or "Marcus Thomas Brody" or "Brody" but they should refer to me as "MTB" at all times.
Sandy Strachon: Good, good. But about yer match. It looks like the odds aren't in yer favour.
MTB: It looks like it. They've got the numbers and the legal protection. I could do with some reinforcements in case anything goes awry.
Sandy Strachon: Are ya sure? Ya handled them at Genesis yerself.
MTB: I didn't have some lawyers in my way, then. I need some guys who aren't me or James Stall to even the odds. Joe Stall might come down, but he's got a main event match tonight so he'll be busy thinking of that. I'm sure Sausage and Bean are available. Just as long as they don't get thrown out for messing around with guns this time.
Sandy pulled his phone from his pocket and proceeded to check through something.
Sandy Strachon: I could do that. Just don't bank on them. I'm gonna make another call in a minute on my way to Pain's office. I'm not sure if I can be successful. Ya could say the status of this is... Unknown.
He grinned at me once more as he headed to the door. Could he really be able to get Unknown to be my back-up? The guy was a monster. Seven feet tall, an eight-time UCW Champion, and wasn't on that legal document Starr had filed. As Sandy was half way through the door, I yelled to him.
MTB: Good luck with Pain!
Sandy laughed vigorously.
Sandy Strachon: Don't underestimate me, MTB. I can handle him.
Somehow, I had a feeling he was underestimating Pain. As soon as the door closed, I spun around on the leather spinning chair and set up feet on the table. I adjusted my royal blue knee pads as I thought of ways to handle this match. It was no ordinary match. It wasn't a straight one-on-one contest like it appeared on paper. It was clear that Benny Starr would have The Entourage out with him. It was clear they'd get involved. I had to hope that Unknown and The Breakfast Table would show up to take them on, since I'm sure that even on my technicality of being MTB and not Marcus Thomas Brody, they'd still get me arrested. That's how they rolled. As for Benny Starr himself, I knew damn well I could take him. Earlier, I said about going back in time one year to what I was like. How about going back in time to Genesis? Let's see? I was hit with the Super Strike. A move that only The Predator had ever kicked out of. And what did I do? I kicked out! And, if I also recall, I pinned him at Genesis too!
At this point, I looked back at my first year in FWF. I won my debut match against two former Heavyweight Champions. I beat Sah'ta Thor. I took "The" Ross Walker to the limit. I beat James Bohne and Camisado. I beat The Meds. I beat WBL. I beat Christian Lee! Should I beat Benny Starr, that would mean I'd beaten all three of my War Zone opponents in singles action. I would have the edge going in to War Zone, something I didn't have at Genesis. And did I mention I'd never been pinned?
June 9th 2011 meant the end of my rookie year. I was no longer a rookie, I was a warrior! I was no longer Marcus Thomas Brody, I was MTB! Hopefully it would mean a new contract. One that would make me higher paid than Benny Starr. I may have had a few things in common with Benny Starr, but at least I had talent... and hair, and soon, more money. By the time, I finished reminiscing about everything, it was nearly time for Live-Wire to begin. I jumped out of my seat, took the FWF Elite Tag Team Championship belt from the table and strapped it around my waist. I checked myself out in a mirror and my, did I look good? Naturally, there would be one belt that would look even nicer around my waist. The FWF World Championship. Perhaps if I was to beat Benny Starr, and the odds, I'd get a chance to go up the rankings and get the title shot I rightfully deserved. Just then, I saw a dark, hulking figure through the frosted glass of the door. I turned myself around and nervously stepped to it with anticipation. My heart leapt with joy and quaked with fear as I moved closer to the door. Finally, I pulled the handle and there was my ticket to success. Sandy had got me the greatest first FWF anniversary present possible. He got me answer to my legal issues. What he got me... was....
MTB: Unknown!
