Post by Marcus Thomas Brody, M! T! B!! on Jul 14, 2011 12:42:49 GMT
MTB: Fuck!
I roared with fury as I ploughed my fist into the door of my locker, denting the metalwork and scuffing the metallic orange paintjob.
MTB: How the fuck did that happen?!
In case you're wondering what was going on, here's a brief overview: I'd just been pinned for the first time in my career, and not only was it my first time being pinned, I was the first one eliminated from the War Games match. I stumbled back and threw myself back onto an open steel chair in the middle of the locker room. Bad idea. My back had taken an extraordinary amount of punishment during my time in the match. Backbreaker here, Torture Rack there, and even a Fallaway Slam into the cage wall. The worst part was knowing that I had an unreliable tag team partner who hadn't been on form lately, and a 61-year old has-been with back and knee problems were my only hope of retaining my title. In fact, why the fuck didn't they break up the pin when WBL had me covered? Oh. that's right, they were too busy milking that reaction for our Predator homage... Moments later, I heard Phil Charles' voice echoing from the arena.
Phil Charles: James Stall has been eliminated!
MTB: FFFFUUUUCCCCKKK!!!!
So the only hope of me still being a champion rested with a man who would turn sixty-one on 4th July facing Christian Lee, "Wild" Bill Legend and "Super" Benny Starr. So much for becoming the longest reigning tag team champion in FWF history, and I was only a week away from it too. I got up, snatched the chair I'd just been on and flung it into the lockers with a crash. I expected someone to run into the locker room and see what was going on but no one did. Suddenly, there was a commotion, a fairly loud ruckus of people running. I pried open the door and saw medics running past. I caught wind of a bit of what some people were saying. I heard "James Stall," "bleeding," and "can't see." I closed my door and slumped to the floor.
MTB: Great. That's fucking great! What use is an unreliable partner who can't even see?
I held my head in my hands. Nothing was going right. My back was killing me, I'd been pinned for the first time ever, my dad had overshadowed me by winning the Battlefield Brawl and now my partner was blinded. Soon World title would be back in Christian Lee's hands and my titles would be held by Benny fucking Starr and WBL, the stuck-up pricks. And what about my contract? I wouldn't be offered near as much as I deserved. At least I could trust Sandy Strachon. He was the one who took me in after I couldn't handle living with my dad. He was was the one who gave me confidence. He was the one who got me out of jail. And he would be the one to get me a good contract. He- Phil Charles' voice echoed through the arena once more...
Phil Charles: Wild Bill Legend and Christian Lee have been eliminated!
I jolted forwards and found myself holding onto my back again. Man, they really did a number on it. I pulled myself up gingerly and looking into a mirror on the wall in disbelief.
MTB: AND!? Wild Bill Legend AND Christian Lee?
What? Did the old bastard just pin two, not one but TWO former Genesis main eventers at the same time? What the fuck? What the ACTUAL fuck!? How was he doing this? How was a man who retired for the first time nine years ago able to pull this off yet the young up-and-comers got destroyed? What kind of training was he doing? I heard more noise from outside my door once more. I pulled open my door to see Mark Briggs sprinting past towards the arena. Moments later, I was passed by a man in maroon with his black hair flapping all over the place. I checked, and double checked the man. I was perplexed.
MTB: Dad?
The booing of the crowd turned to cheers as my old man charged through the curtain. The fans had never given me that big a reaction. There was no room for new blood in this sport. No one cared. Everyone was getting my team's name wrong. We were The New Direction, not New Directions! That was the name of the Glee Club in "Glee!" (and don't dare ask me how I knew that, I just know it! Okay?) Moments later, I heard the crowd chanting "1, 2, 3!" and the bell ringing. By the sound of their cheering, I knew it was good news. That was soon confirmed by "Real American" throbbing through the arena speakers and the voice of Phil Charles, yet again....
Phil Charles: The winners of the match ...the FWF Elite Tag Team Champions and the FWF World Champion ...Marcus Thomas Brody, James Stall ...and “Captain” Joe Stall!
I leapt with joy, or what I call a leap- more like move as well I could with my back in the state it was. One of the ring crew, a skinny little guy, rushed into the locker room to hand me my belt. I clutched it close to my chest and felt so good, I kissed it. I was still a champion! All thanks to "Captain" Joe Stall. I dropped the belt on the floor and leaned into the lockers, banging my head against it gently.
MTB: How? How'd that OAP do it? How could he beat three guys single-handedly? How's a man his age able to be fucking Superman? What kind of training is he doing? Why's he so good?
???: Because your father's training him.
I knew that voice... That Mancunian dialect with Yorkshire undertones, and his well-spoken words. I hadn't heard it in over two months.
MTB: Mr. Predator?
I turned and leaned back against my locker. The coldness of the metal eased my pain in my back. In front of me was a suited up Predator. His hair was combed back and greying, his face looked stressed and worn and he was standing with the aid of a cane, yet his piercing blue eyes ate into me like they did many a foe in his day.
The Predator: You're still calling me that? It makes me feel old.
Old? He was only thirty-eight. Although years of wrestling the way he did had taken its toll on him.
MTB: Why are you here?
The Predator: Well, you left your door open, and can't a teacher visit his student?
Some teacher? I'd hardly seen him around since Jealousy last year. Predator tapped his cane for a moment before continuing.
The Predator: But in all seriousness, that's not why I'm here. You know how I'm Commissioner of the Lost Heroes League?
MTB: Yeah.
He reached into the outside pockets of his black suit jacket and pulled out a scrap of paper before checking it and stuffing it back into the pocket.
The Predator: Well, you're joint third in the league at the moment. But, you've only had one match.
Of course. The League. I'd forgotten all about it, even though it was my idea in the first place. I'd beaten Christian Lee in the first match. But third place after one match? That's some impressive stuff.
MTB: Why are you telling me this?
The Predator: Want to get straight to the point, I see? Right, I'll letting you know that on the next Live-Wire, which I think is July 14th.
MTB: Alright, then who am I facing?
Predator's cold glare transformed into a sick smile. One I'd seen only when he was about to do something big. He'd had that smile just before he hit a Wing Attack on Thor at Jealousy 5 with barbed wire wrapped tightly around his arm.
The Predator: July 14th, on Live-Wire, you will be going against the top of the table when you go one-on-one with...
Get on with it!!!!!
The Predator: Sah'ta Thor!
He said that with so much force, he wanted it to seem like a big deal. I guess, on paper it was. Two warriors both undefeated in Lost Heroes League competition. The Universal Champion versus the son of the number one contender to his title. Ugh, there it was again... I'd be the afterthought. It'd be Marcus Brody this, Sah'ta Thor that, and where would MTB be? In the background. I was the background in War Games and I'd be the background here too.
MTB: That's good.
The Predator: Are you sure? You don't seem too impressed? You can tell me what your problem is.
He was as good a mind-reader as Sandy Strachon. How did they do that? I slouched back on my locker, trying not to focus on the stinging going through my spine.
MTB: I don't see what I get out of this match with Thor. I've beaten him already.
Predator's eyebrows raised with intrigue at what I had to say. He closed his eyes and nodded. He swept his free hand through his hair and mopped his brow. The lights in the locker room, combined with the heat of San Diego were making him sweat.
The Predator: I had that same attitude the other year. I'd beaten Thor at Jealousy, and I went into Hotter Than Hell thinking I'd make quick work of him. You remember the Devil's Advocate don't you?
I nodded. Who could forget the FWF Original Match that came from the sick and twisted mind of Chris Sharp? There had only been two in FWF history, and Sah'ta Thor had been in both of them... and lost. Yet he only ever just lost. I remembered how brutal they were. The image of the barbed-wire Preysnatcher had imprinted on my mind. Predator was now twirling his thumb around the tip of his cane, probably reminiscing about his matches with Thor.
The Predator: Then you'd remember how many tables I went through?
MTB: Not really. How many?
The Predator: Five, and three of those were on fire. Just because you beat Thor once doesn't guarantee you beat him again. And don't forget your first win against him was a bit tainted.
He had a point. Christian Lee had interfered last time and distracted the Immortal One, letting me hit the Suplex Machine for the win. This time I had a chance; a chance to get a clean win. I hadn't had one of them in nearly a year. And I had a chance to end the top of the league's unbeaten streak and move up in the rankings. Not only did I want to be in contension for the Lost Heroes Trophy, I wanted to choose the match type.
MTB: Yeah, I know. But I know I can do it. I'm a better wrestler than I was when I last faced him.
The Predator: As long as you don't pay tribute to me you'll be fine.
MTB: Oh yeah, about that... What did you think?
He tried to keep a solemn look on his face but I could tell his cheeks were going slightly rosy.
The Predator: It was touching, but the ring's not the place to really play to the fans or to a Lost Hero like myself. You should've gone straight into the Su-Prey. And I'd have thought after all those Wing Attacks I put you through in training, you'd have been able to kick out of exactly the same move.
MTB: You can't talk. WBL's pinned you too.
The Predator: He did, yeah, but you didn't have to deal with outside interference.
MTB: He low-blowed me.
The Predator: All's fair in love and War Games. Thing is, we both let ourselves get distracted. Me by December Green, and you by paying tribute to me. Focus yourself on Thor. Focus yourself on three points.
MTB: What about my dad? He's sure to get involved?
Predator hobbled around the locker room, tapping his cane with every step. He soon found another chair and set himself on it. He hung his head for a few moments before looking up and pointing his cane right at me.
The Predator: Don't worry about Marcus. He'll want to see if you're living up to your hype. He's worried about you working with Sandy.
MTB: Why? What's his problem with Sandy? What did Sandy do?
I slapped the lockers, making that rattling sound, yet somehow, The Predator was unfazed. His cane was rigid in his hand, and his glare was back.
The Predator: Listen.
His voice sure was stern.
The Predator: That's between Marcus Brody Sr. and Sandy Strachon. It's none of your business. It's none of mine either. I've never asked either of 'em meself so I don't know, and don't even ask me. In fact, don't even think about it. Think about Thor. Think about the points, think about the Lost Heroes Trophy. That's more important. That's...
???: Ever the motivator, aren't ya, Pred?
And at the door was perhaps the greatest man to ever live, as far as I was concerned. With a velvety purple and lilac suit and briefcase in hand was Sandy Strachon, greeting Predator with a toothy smile and a firm handshake. Predator didn't appear too happy to see him. I wondered how much of our conversation Sandy had heard.
The Predator: Nice to see you Sandy, how's the family?
Sandy Strachon: Same as last time. Sam's still in work, Seth's still with his hot wife, and Aurora's singing is going well. Do ya mind if I have a word with MTB?
The Predator: Sure.
Sandy offered a hand and helped Predator to his feet. It was a sad sight seeing him in that condition. As he was halfway through the door, he turned his head to me.
The Predator: Don't forget, MTB. Focus! And don't try any Flying Crossbodies. They don't suit you.
As soon as he was gone, Sandy surveyed the locker room. His toothy grin was soon changed into a look of disgust. The dity lockers, the dirty white walls, the steel folding chairs, the minute plywood table. He shook at his head at me, wagging his finger with disapproval.
Sandy Strachon: This the best they can give ya? Really? I arrange for a private locker room and ya get THIS? MTB, yer not gonna get crap like this again, not as long as Sandy Strachon's by yer side.
To be honest, I didn't really mind it. I only changed into my gear in here. Never really needed luxury to do that. In fact, compared to my old school, this was a palace. But I wasn't one to argue with Sandy. He was a powerful ally and I didn't want to jeopardise that.
MTB: Yeah, I don't like it one bit. How's my contract coming?
Sandy's frown immediately turned back into his grin, and his eyebrows raised. Yet another sign of good news.
Sandy Strachon: I managed to getcha an offer. Not near what we asked for, but still reasonable.
MTB: How much?
Sandy Strachon: With proven victories and an eye to the future, Pain was offerin' 350,000 over two years. I managed to talk him into 350,000 over one year with a 50,000 sign-up.
MTB: Pounds or dollars?
Sandy Strachon: Dollars. I tried getting it in pounds but he was having none of it.
Oh well, he tried. But still, that was a lot of money compared to the $100,000 I got last year.
Sandy Strachon: Told me yer not top talent yet.
I slammed one of the open lockers closed. Was he serious? After all I'd done I wasn't top talent?
MTB: Not top talent? Are you kidding me, Sandy? I've won the Jealousy Battle Royal! I've beaten former World Champions and Genesis main eventers! I've run gauntlets! And this week I become the longest reigning Tag Team Champion in FWF History! I'll have the third longest title reign in FWF history! I single-handedly defended the tag titles at Genesis! I've proved my worth over and over again! I'm a top talent but Pain doesn't see it! First he snubs me from the Elimination Chamber! Then he lets some crooks get away with murder! And now he says I'm not top talent?! What does it take around here to be called a top talent?
I gritted my teeth and seethed with rage, pounding my hands against the lockers. I was sure something in one of them shattered, but I didn't care. I was being screwed again.
Sandy Strachon: I asked him that. He told me he'll renegotiate and upgrade yer contract if ya have a major singles win. I added it as a clause to yer contract.
MTB: So if I beat Thor on Live-Wire I'll be up for renegotiation?
Sandy Strachon: Not quite. Ya need to win the Lost Heroes Trophy, the Jealousy Tournament, the Blizzard match, the Universal title or the World title. THEN he'll reconsider. So beatin' Thor's part of the answer, MTB. Ya need those three points. And don't forget that yer win will be against the top ranking warrior in the league too, and the Universal Champion, so ya can lay claim to a shot at the belt too.
MTB: How can I? My dad's the number one contender.
Sandy Strachon: Hardcore Heaven XV. 2004. Predator vs. Unknown vs. yer dad. Unknown earned the shot but yer dad pinned The Predator in a non-title match on Monday Night Revolution. He earned a shot so I added him to the match. Pred wasn't too happy. Lost the title when Unknown pinned yer dad. Think of this. Ya beat Thor. Ya get three points, and eat into Thor's lead. Ya take a step closer to the Lost Heroes Trophy. Ya throw yer name in the hat for a shot at the Universal title. Yer dad may have won the Battlefield Brawl, but ya can still be a contender. And ya can prove yerself to yer dad by beating him to win the belt.
I took a moment running his words through my head. I knew he liked what he was saying. His eyes were sparkling as if money was falling from the sky. If I did this, money really could fall from the sky. I stepped closer to Sandy, and put my right hand on his shoulder, and my left on my lower back.
MTB: Sandy, I really like the way you think.
Sandy Strachon: So ya should. And before ya ask, I dunno why yer dad's so pissed off at me. I gave him the world. I paid for yer upbringin', I funded Rachel's expensive taste, I paid his bills, I put food on his table, and now the ingrate wants nothing to do with me, and he wants to hinder yer career. The selfish old man wants to take yer spotlight for himself. He doesn't want to let go. He's intimidated by ya. He thinks you'll surpass him, and I know ya will. His FWF career's been far from legendary. So let's go to the hotel, jet back home in the morning, and get you training.
MTB: What kind of training? I want the kind dad's been giving to Joe Stall...
Sandy Strachon: And James...
James? So my dad's been training my rival? Sure we're the Elite Tag Team Champions, but I consider him more of a rival. Both brought up in UCW. Both trained by our families. Both trained by Predator. Both started in FWF at the same time. I had the edge. He'd won one and lost one of his Lost Heroes League matches. I was going to be 2-0. I was going to beat Thor. Then eventually, I was going to go one-on-one with my partner. The day would come sooner or later. Of course, I didn't need to worry about him yet.
MTB: Who cares? It's Thor I have to worry about right now.
Sandy Strachon: Mmhmm, I'm sure Predator's told ya all about Sah'ta Thor.
MTB: Yeah, he has.
Sandy: So ya know how much of a whiney fella he is. For someone who's meant to be hardcore, he sure moans a lot. Even if he loses fairly, he'll whinge on camera. I've heard Predator's frustrations with him. Thor always asks him for advice but never follows it. That said, he is partly responsible for ending Pred's career. You've beaten Thor before, and ya can do it again!
MTB: Cheers Sandy, I will. I know I can. I need to turn it around. I haven't beaten anyone myself in a long time. And I will turn it around.
Sandy's smile grew. He looked upon me like a proud father. I was glad I had someone like that, unlike my bitter real dad.
Sandy Strachon: Great! Now let's sign yer contract.
He set his briefcase on the flimsy wood on legs someone called a table and clicked the briefcase open. There lay, on top of plenty of paperwork, a few sheets of paper on a clipboard with the FWF logo on the front. Sandy flicked through a few pages to the very end where three dotted lines rested on the bottom. The one in the centre and the one on the right were signed, presumably by Sandy and Pain. Sandy held up a pen and handed it to me.
MTB: Don't I need to read it first?
Sandy Strachon: Nah. I've read through it, and it's all fine. $350,000 this year and a $50,000 signing bonus. Plus championship bonuses, a rematch clause, and a renegotiation clause. Yer all set to go. Ya can trust me.
He gave me his trademark smile and nodded as I clicked the pen and put pen to paper. First the M, then the T, then the B followed by a squiggle that looked like "rody." And it was offical. I had a new deal with FWF and my career was heading into a New Direction... The MTB Direction! And it all starts with a thundering three points against Thor.
I roared with fury as I ploughed my fist into the door of my locker, denting the metalwork and scuffing the metallic orange paintjob.
MTB: How the fuck did that happen?!
In case you're wondering what was going on, here's a brief overview: I'd just been pinned for the first time in my career, and not only was it my first time being pinned, I was the first one eliminated from the War Games match. I stumbled back and threw myself back onto an open steel chair in the middle of the locker room. Bad idea. My back had taken an extraordinary amount of punishment during my time in the match. Backbreaker here, Torture Rack there, and even a Fallaway Slam into the cage wall. The worst part was knowing that I had an unreliable tag team partner who hadn't been on form lately, and a 61-year old has-been with back and knee problems were my only hope of retaining my title. In fact, why the fuck didn't they break up the pin when WBL had me covered? Oh. that's right, they were too busy milking that reaction for our Predator homage... Moments later, I heard Phil Charles' voice echoing from the arena.
Phil Charles: James Stall has been eliminated!
MTB: FFFFUUUUCCCCKKK!!!!
So the only hope of me still being a champion rested with a man who would turn sixty-one on 4th July facing Christian Lee, "Wild" Bill Legend and "Super" Benny Starr. So much for becoming the longest reigning tag team champion in FWF history, and I was only a week away from it too. I got up, snatched the chair I'd just been on and flung it into the lockers with a crash. I expected someone to run into the locker room and see what was going on but no one did. Suddenly, there was a commotion, a fairly loud ruckus of people running. I pried open the door and saw medics running past. I caught wind of a bit of what some people were saying. I heard "James Stall," "bleeding," and "can't see." I closed my door and slumped to the floor.
MTB: Great. That's fucking great! What use is an unreliable partner who can't even see?
I held my head in my hands. Nothing was going right. My back was killing me, I'd been pinned for the first time ever, my dad had overshadowed me by winning the Battlefield Brawl and now my partner was blinded. Soon World title would be back in Christian Lee's hands and my titles would be held by Benny fucking Starr and WBL, the stuck-up pricks. And what about my contract? I wouldn't be offered near as much as I deserved. At least I could trust Sandy Strachon. He was the one who took me in after I couldn't handle living with my dad. He was was the one who gave me confidence. He was the one who got me out of jail. And he would be the one to get me a good contract. He- Phil Charles' voice echoed through the arena once more...
Phil Charles: Wild Bill Legend and Christian Lee have been eliminated!
I jolted forwards and found myself holding onto my back again. Man, they really did a number on it. I pulled myself up gingerly and looking into a mirror on the wall in disbelief.
MTB: AND!? Wild Bill Legend AND Christian Lee?
What? Did the old bastard just pin two, not one but TWO former Genesis main eventers at the same time? What the fuck? What the ACTUAL fuck!? How was he doing this? How was a man who retired for the first time nine years ago able to pull this off yet the young up-and-comers got destroyed? What kind of training was he doing? I heard more noise from outside my door once more. I pulled open my door to see Mark Briggs sprinting past towards the arena. Moments later, I was passed by a man in maroon with his black hair flapping all over the place. I checked, and double checked the man. I was perplexed.
MTB: Dad?
The booing of the crowd turned to cheers as my old man charged through the curtain. The fans had never given me that big a reaction. There was no room for new blood in this sport. No one cared. Everyone was getting my team's name wrong. We were The New Direction, not New Directions! That was the name of the Glee Club in "Glee!" (and don't dare ask me how I knew that, I just know it! Okay?) Moments later, I heard the crowd chanting "1, 2, 3!" and the bell ringing. By the sound of their cheering, I knew it was good news. That was soon confirmed by "Real American" throbbing through the arena speakers and the voice of Phil Charles, yet again....
Phil Charles: The winners of the match ...the FWF Elite Tag Team Champions and the FWF World Champion ...Marcus Thomas Brody, James Stall ...and “Captain” Joe Stall!
I leapt with joy, or what I call a leap- more like move as well I could with my back in the state it was. One of the ring crew, a skinny little guy, rushed into the locker room to hand me my belt. I clutched it close to my chest and felt so good, I kissed it. I was still a champion! All thanks to "Captain" Joe Stall. I dropped the belt on the floor and leaned into the lockers, banging my head against it gently.
MTB: How? How'd that OAP do it? How could he beat three guys single-handedly? How's a man his age able to be fucking Superman? What kind of training is he doing? Why's he so good?
???: Because your father's training him.
I knew that voice... That Mancunian dialect with Yorkshire undertones, and his well-spoken words. I hadn't heard it in over two months.
MTB: Mr. Predator?
I turned and leaned back against my locker. The coldness of the metal eased my pain in my back. In front of me was a suited up Predator. His hair was combed back and greying, his face looked stressed and worn and he was standing with the aid of a cane, yet his piercing blue eyes ate into me like they did many a foe in his day.
The Predator: You're still calling me that? It makes me feel old.
Old? He was only thirty-eight. Although years of wrestling the way he did had taken its toll on him.
MTB: Why are you here?
The Predator: Well, you left your door open, and can't a teacher visit his student?
Some teacher? I'd hardly seen him around since Jealousy last year. Predator tapped his cane for a moment before continuing.
The Predator: But in all seriousness, that's not why I'm here. You know how I'm Commissioner of the Lost Heroes League?
MTB: Yeah.
He reached into the outside pockets of his black suit jacket and pulled out a scrap of paper before checking it and stuffing it back into the pocket.
The Predator: Well, you're joint third in the league at the moment. But, you've only had one match.
Of course. The League. I'd forgotten all about it, even though it was my idea in the first place. I'd beaten Christian Lee in the first match. But third place after one match? That's some impressive stuff.
MTB: Why are you telling me this?
The Predator: Want to get straight to the point, I see? Right, I'll letting you know that on the next Live-Wire, which I think is July 14th.
MTB: Alright, then who am I facing?
Predator's cold glare transformed into a sick smile. One I'd seen only when he was about to do something big. He'd had that smile just before he hit a Wing Attack on Thor at Jealousy 5 with barbed wire wrapped tightly around his arm.
The Predator: July 14th, on Live-Wire, you will be going against the top of the table when you go one-on-one with...
Get on with it!!!!!
The Predator: Sah'ta Thor!
He said that with so much force, he wanted it to seem like a big deal. I guess, on paper it was. Two warriors both undefeated in Lost Heroes League competition. The Universal Champion versus the son of the number one contender to his title. Ugh, there it was again... I'd be the afterthought. It'd be Marcus Brody this, Sah'ta Thor that, and where would MTB be? In the background. I was the background in War Games and I'd be the background here too.
MTB: That's good.
The Predator: Are you sure? You don't seem too impressed? You can tell me what your problem is.
He was as good a mind-reader as Sandy Strachon. How did they do that? I slouched back on my locker, trying not to focus on the stinging going through my spine.
MTB: I don't see what I get out of this match with Thor. I've beaten him already.
Predator's eyebrows raised with intrigue at what I had to say. He closed his eyes and nodded. He swept his free hand through his hair and mopped his brow. The lights in the locker room, combined with the heat of San Diego were making him sweat.
The Predator: I had that same attitude the other year. I'd beaten Thor at Jealousy, and I went into Hotter Than Hell thinking I'd make quick work of him. You remember the Devil's Advocate don't you?
I nodded. Who could forget the FWF Original Match that came from the sick and twisted mind of Chris Sharp? There had only been two in FWF history, and Sah'ta Thor had been in both of them... and lost. Yet he only ever just lost. I remembered how brutal they were. The image of the barbed-wire Preysnatcher had imprinted on my mind. Predator was now twirling his thumb around the tip of his cane, probably reminiscing about his matches with Thor.
The Predator: Then you'd remember how many tables I went through?
MTB: Not really. How many?
The Predator: Five, and three of those were on fire. Just because you beat Thor once doesn't guarantee you beat him again. And don't forget your first win against him was a bit tainted.
He had a point. Christian Lee had interfered last time and distracted the Immortal One, letting me hit the Suplex Machine for the win. This time I had a chance; a chance to get a clean win. I hadn't had one of them in nearly a year. And I had a chance to end the top of the league's unbeaten streak and move up in the rankings. Not only did I want to be in contension for the Lost Heroes Trophy, I wanted to choose the match type.
MTB: Yeah, I know. But I know I can do it. I'm a better wrestler than I was when I last faced him.
The Predator: As long as you don't pay tribute to me you'll be fine.
MTB: Oh yeah, about that... What did you think?
He tried to keep a solemn look on his face but I could tell his cheeks were going slightly rosy.
The Predator: It was touching, but the ring's not the place to really play to the fans or to a Lost Hero like myself. You should've gone straight into the Su-Prey. And I'd have thought after all those Wing Attacks I put you through in training, you'd have been able to kick out of exactly the same move.
MTB: You can't talk. WBL's pinned you too.
The Predator: He did, yeah, but you didn't have to deal with outside interference.
MTB: He low-blowed me.
The Predator: All's fair in love and War Games. Thing is, we both let ourselves get distracted. Me by December Green, and you by paying tribute to me. Focus yourself on Thor. Focus yourself on three points.
MTB: What about my dad? He's sure to get involved?
Predator hobbled around the locker room, tapping his cane with every step. He soon found another chair and set himself on it. He hung his head for a few moments before looking up and pointing his cane right at me.
The Predator: Don't worry about Marcus. He'll want to see if you're living up to your hype. He's worried about you working with Sandy.
MTB: Why? What's his problem with Sandy? What did Sandy do?
I slapped the lockers, making that rattling sound, yet somehow, The Predator was unfazed. His cane was rigid in his hand, and his glare was back.
The Predator: Listen.
His voice sure was stern.
The Predator: That's between Marcus Brody Sr. and Sandy Strachon. It's none of your business. It's none of mine either. I've never asked either of 'em meself so I don't know, and don't even ask me. In fact, don't even think about it. Think about Thor. Think about the points, think about the Lost Heroes Trophy. That's more important. That's...
???: Ever the motivator, aren't ya, Pred?
And at the door was perhaps the greatest man to ever live, as far as I was concerned. With a velvety purple and lilac suit and briefcase in hand was Sandy Strachon, greeting Predator with a toothy smile and a firm handshake. Predator didn't appear too happy to see him. I wondered how much of our conversation Sandy had heard.
The Predator: Nice to see you Sandy, how's the family?
Sandy Strachon: Same as last time. Sam's still in work, Seth's still with his hot wife, and Aurora's singing is going well. Do ya mind if I have a word with MTB?
The Predator: Sure.
Sandy offered a hand and helped Predator to his feet. It was a sad sight seeing him in that condition. As he was halfway through the door, he turned his head to me.
The Predator: Don't forget, MTB. Focus! And don't try any Flying Crossbodies. They don't suit you.
As soon as he was gone, Sandy surveyed the locker room. His toothy grin was soon changed into a look of disgust. The dity lockers, the dirty white walls, the steel folding chairs, the minute plywood table. He shook at his head at me, wagging his finger with disapproval.
Sandy Strachon: This the best they can give ya? Really? I arrange for a private locker room and ya get THIS? MTB, yer not gonna get crap like this again, not as long as Sandy Strachon's by yer side.
To be honest, I didn't really mind it. I only changed into my gear in here. Never really needed luxury to do that. In fact, compared to my old school, this was a palace. But I wasn't one to argue with Sandy. He was a powerful ally and I didn't want to jeopardise that.
MTB: Yeah, I don't like it one bit. How's my contract coming?
Sandy's frown immediately turned back into his grin, and his eyebrows raised. Yet another sign of good news.
Sandy Strachon: I managed to getcha an offer. Not near what we asked for, but still reasonable.
MTB: How much?
Sandy Strachon: With proven victories and an eye to the future, Pain was offerin' 350,000 over two years. I managed to talk him into 350,000 over one year with a 50,000 sign-up.
MTB: Pounds or dollars?
Sandy Strachon: Dollars. I tried getting it in pounds but he was having none of it.
Oh well, he tried. But still, that was a lot of money compared to the $100,000 I got last year.
Sandy Strachon: Told me yer not top talent yet.
I slammed one of the open lockers closed. Was he serious? After all I'd done I wasn't top talent?
MTB: Not top talent? Are you kidding me, Sandy? I've won the Jealousy Battle Royal! I've beaten former World Champions and Genesis main eventers! I've run gauntlets! And this week I become the longest reigning Tag Team Champion in FWF History! I'll have the third longest title reign in FWF history! I single-handedly defended the tag titles at Genesis! I've proved my worth over and over again! I'm a top talent but Pain doesn't see it! First he snubs me from the Elimination Chamber! Then he lets some crooks get away with murder! And now he says I'm not top talent?! What does it take around here to be called a top talent?
I gritted my teeth and seethed with rage, pounding my hands against the lockers. I was sure something in one of them shattered, but I didn't care. I was being screwed again.
Sandy Strachon: I asked him that. He told me he'll renegotiate and upgrade yer contract if ya have a major singles win. I added it as a clause to yer contract.
MTB: So if I beat Thor on Live-Wire I'll be up for renegotiation?
Sandy Strachon: Not quite. Ya need to win the Lost Heroes Trophy, the Jealousy Tournament, the Blizzard match, the Universal title or the World title. THEN he'll reconsider. So beatin' Thor's part of the answer, MTB. Ya need those three points. And don't forget that yer win will be against the top ranking warrior in the league too, and the Universal Champion, so ya can lay claim to a shot at the belt too.
MTB: How can I? My dad's the number one contender.
Sandy Strachon: Hardcore Heaven XV. 2004. Predator vs. Unknown vs. yer dad. Unknown earned the shot but yer dad pinned The Predator in a non-title match on Monday Night Revolution. He earned a shot so I added him to the match. Pred wasn't too happy. Lost the title when Unknown pinned yer dad. Think of this. Ya beat Thor. Ya get three points, and eat into Thor's lead. Ya take a step closer to the Lost Heroes Trophy. Ya throw yer name in the hat for a shot at the Universal title. Yer dad may have won the Battlefield Brawl, but ya can still be a contender. And ya can prove yerself to yer dad by beating him to win the belt.
I took a moment running his words through my head. I knew he liked what he was saying. His eyes were sparkling as if money was falling from the sky. If I did this, money really could fall from the sky. I stepped closer to Sandy, and put my right hand on his shoulder, and my left on my lower back.
MTB: Sandy, I really like the way you think.
Sandy Strachon: So ya should. And before ya ask, I dunno why yer dad's so pissed off at me. I gave him the world. I paid for yer upbringin', I funded Rachel's expensive taste, I paid his bills, I put food on his table, and now the ingrate wants nothing to do with me, and he wants to hinder yer career. The selfish old man wants to take yer spotlight for himself. He doesn't want to let go. He's intimidated by ya. He thinks you'll surpass him, and I know ya will. His FWF career's been far from legendary. So let's go to the hotel, jet back home in the morning, and get you training.
MTB: What kind of training? I want the kind dad's been giving to Joe Stall...
Sandy Strachon: And James...
James? So my dad's been training my rival? Sure we're the Elite Tag Team Champions, but I consider him more of a rival. Both brought up in UCW. Both trained by our families. Both trained by Predator. Both started in FWF at the same time. I had the edge. He'd won one and lost one of his Lost Heroes League matches. I was going to be 2-0. I was going to beat Thor. Then eventually, I was going to go one-on-one with my partner. The day would come sooner or later. Of course, I didn't need to worry about him yet.
MTB: Who cares? It's Thor I have to worry about right now.
Sandy Strachon: Mmhmm, I'm sure Predator's told ya all about Sah'ta Thor.
MTB: Yeah, he has.
Sandy: So ya know how much of a whiney fella he is. For someone who's meant to be hardcore, he sure moans a lot. Even if he loses fairly, he'll whinge on camera. I've heard Predator's frustrations with him. Thor always asks him for advice but never follows it. That said, he is partly responsible for ending Pred's career. You've beaten Thor before, and ya can do it again!
MTB: Cheers Sandy, I will. I know I can. I need to turn it around. I haven't beaten anyone myself in a long time. And I will turn it around.
Sandy's smile grew. He looked upon me like a proud father. I was glad I had someone like that, unlike my bitter real dad.
Sandy Strachon: Great! Now let's sign yer contract.
He set his briefcase on the flimsy wood on legs someone called a table and clicked the briefcase open. There lay, on top of plenty of paperwork, a few sheets of paper on a clipboard with the FWF logo on the front. Sandy flicked through a few pages to the very end where three dotted lines rested on the bottom. The one in the centre and the one on the right were signed, presumably by Sandy and Pain. Sandy held up a pen and handed it to me.
MTB: Don't I need to read it first?
Sandy Strachon: Nah. I've read through it, and it's all fine. $350,000 this year and a $50,000 signing bonus. Plus championship bonuses, a rematch clause, and a renegotiation clause. Yer all set to go. Ya can trust me.
He gave me his trademark smile and nodded as I clicked the pen and put pen to paper. First the M, then the T, then the B followed by a squiggle that looked like "rody." And it was offical. I had a new deal with FWF and my career was heading into a New Direction... The MTB Direction! And it all starts with a thundering three points against Thor.