Post by Spartan on Aug 15, 2019 5:43:57 GMT -5
Recently
The room is dark as you would expect a small dingy back road bar to be. It’s not crowded, but it’s not empty, and is occupied mainly by its regulars. Two men sit at the end of the bar. In front of each man, sits there own half finished beers. To the people who know these two men, these men are known as Tristan Cross and Quinn Black. Cross is wearing jeans and a white t-shirt, his glorious ginger beard stands proud on the front of his face. Quinn is wearing a black t-shirt and jeans. This is just two friends sharing time and talking shit with each other.
“How’s that wrestling thing going for ya, T?” asks Quinn as he finishes taking a mouthful of his beer.
“Yeh, it's going.” Spartan answers.
“Dude, fire up, man. I’ve been watching this shit on Netflix. Ya kicking ass.”
“Yeh.”
“Yeh. Your fuckin’ champion, bro.”
“I know, Q. I know.”
“Then what the hell is ya problem, bro?”
Cross finishes his beer and puts it back down on the top of the bar.
“Ya know.” Cross looks at his empty beer. “Ya know, it’s almost been a year.”
“Since the Penny stuff?” asks Quinn cautiously.
“Yeh, since the Penny stuff.” Tristan answers his friend, as he wipes his hands across his eyes.
“Sorry man. I guess it still hurtin?”
“Doesn’t stop, Q, doesn’t stop.”
“Chin up, brah.”
“Yeh, wish it was as easy as just saying chin up.”
“Past is past, brah. Can’t change it, just gotta learn man.”
Quinn raises his hand to call the barman over.
“Two beers thanks.” Black asks the bartender.
The barman simply nods and moves to the taps to pour two new amber fluids.
“I know you loved the girl. I know you miss your kids. Can’t say I know what your feeling.” Black consoles Cross as he talks by placing a hand on his shoulder.
“Yeh.” Cross says simply.
“Ya wanna talk about it?” Black pushes. “You’ve never really told me or D about it.”
“Not really, Q.”
“Ok.” Quinn Black says. “But, if you ever do - ya know where we are.”
The bartender returns and places the two full beers in front of the men and removes the empty glasses.
“Ya know, Q, tell me - how is your new girl going?” says Tristan Cross deliberately changing the subject.
“She’s good, bro. We’re good, bro. Might even marry this one.” smiles Quinn as he talks.
Cross stifles a laugh. “Seriously?”
“Yes, seriously, T.”
“Well, the great playboy of Los Angeles is finally thinking of settling down.”
“Yeh, man,” says Quinn, a broad smile crosses his face talking about the new woman in his life.
“Well. Good.” says Cross nodding and suppressing a brief chuckle.
The conversation falls silent, a comfortable silence that can only exist between close friends. Both men turn their attention to the beer in front of them and continue to drink their beers. The ambient noise of the bar is all moves between the two friends as they sit with each other they men do.
“Two men walk into a bar...”
“Ouch”
Yeh. I got jokes.
Spartan is sitting on a steel chair in front of the now very familiar Alpha Pro Wrestling Banner. A black background with an embossed metallic silver font that scream edgy. This is Spartan’s location of choice for interviews. It’s easier. Spartan, himself, is wearing a black APW hoodie (got to advertise) and dark blue denim jeans with stone coloured boots.
“I know. I know. Bad jokes. But jokes are often the best ice breaker, even if they are pretty bad. It’s just a little something to ease the tension and let unfamiliar people feel comfortable with each other.”
“I know my partner’s name this week is Jazzy John McCarty, but I don’t know him. Hence, the joke. Even if was once to make the sons and daughters of men and women cringe.”
Spartan strokes his ginger beard.
“John, this week, I have the pleasure of teaming with you against Alpha Pro’s resident top contenders to the tag titles. I didn’t get into this game expecting to be a tag team wrestler, never expected it - but again I have it. New partner this time, last time I was teaming with Dean Wolf. Won that against the champs. So this match will be a good measure of the contenders and us, John.”
“You know what I like about this match, John and it’s not just teaming with someone who has an appreciation of the blues. It’s the fact that every day when I step into the ring it's another day that I become better.”
“I dig that shit.”
“Fighting new opponents, teaming with new people. It’s an experience. And what’s even better about this match is that I don’t need to win to achieve what I want out of it. I get there just by stepping foot into the ring.”
“But don’t get me wrong, John - just because I am saying I don’t need this win. I sure as hell want this win. And that’s where you and me - we’re going to get it done. We are going to step into that ring as two individuals and we are going to walk out of that ring as a team.”
“Victorious.”
Spartan gives a thumb up.
Too cheesy?
Spartan drops his hand and arm to a more comfortable position
“I got your back on that one.”
“I’m not worried about what games are played in the background by management. Fact is, I have been put in the ring with you, Jazzy John against Liliana Rose and Alex Scott and the way I see it - the way it is, John there is only one outcome that I can push for.”
“I’ve said it before.”
“But I will say it again.”
“Our victory.”
“Ya know, Q - ya remember the days shooting hoops at Venice.” Tristan Cross casually asks his partner in drinking crime Quinn Black,
“Ha. yeh. We were young man, high school shit.” Quinn Black answers with a chortle in voice as he reminisces about the young years. “What’d they call you again?”
“Pirate Redbeard,” scoffs Cross.
“Ha ha. Yeh that’s it. You hated at first, brah.” Quinn says as he playfully jabs Cross in one of demonstrably large biceps.
“Alway fuckin’ hated it. Just got immune to it.” says Cross as he pushes back against Black with his free hand.
Both men laugh, followed by picking up their glasses of beer with synchronicity and drinking together. Friends in the moment.
“Wha’ the fuck are doin’ ‘ere” cuts a voice across the room as the peace of Cross and Black is broken.
Both men turn in the direction and see Jerry Eisenhower standing in front of them with his arms crossed and the sternest of looks on his face.
“Is that the old bastard that trains ya, T?” whispers Quinn Black to Tristan Cross.
“Yep. I’m the old fuckin’ bastard.” Eisenhower answers with his hearing better than what Quinn thought it was, either that, or Black didn’t whisper.
“I’m taking some time out, Jerry.” Tristan Cross says, finally get a chance to answer.
“Ya a fuckin’ champion, son. Ya don’ get ta rest. Go to the fuckin’ ring and train. I’ll meet ya there.” Eisenhower spits.
“Who’s gonna make him.” Says Quinn Black, standing from his stool.
“I fuckin’ am, sonny. And I stab ya in the eye with my dick if ya fuckin think of stoppin me.” Eisenhower snorts back, puffing out his chest.
“It’s cool.” says Cross as he places his hand on the shoulder of Black to sit him back down on his stool. “I should be going anyway, I have a tag match this week and title defence next week.”
Cross jumps up and makes his exit from the bar, as Eisenhower and Black stares daggers into each other’s heart. Eisenhower jumps up on the stool vacated by Cross and signals the bartenders.
“Scotch. Double. Rocks” he tells the approaching bartender.
“What the fuck are ya doin? Ya just sent T back to train and you drinking?” spits Black.
“I ain’t no fuckin’ champion. Now shut up and finish ya beer. Pussy.” Eisenhower fires back with all the venom of an old angry man.
“What?” steams Black in Jerry’s direction.
Eisenhower ignores him and down his scotch in one gulp as soon as it is put down in front of him. He jumps of the stool and flips the middle finger at Black before walking off as Quinn Black sits there steaming and honestly, a little confused by the whole interaction.
“Liliana Rose.”
Spartan adjusts himself on his steel chair.
“I’m not going to be one to judge me. You have had things go wrong in your past. That’s unfortunate, but they are not things for me to judge you on. How can I? I’m not exactly a puritan of perfection when it comes to personal issues. I’ve had my share, and I probably haven’t dealt with things as I would like. But it is what it is. So I do what I do and move forward with life. That’s how I ended up in Alpha Pro. Coincidentally, that’s how you ended up here too.”
Different problems though.
“So, while we are dealing with our respective issues some in our past, some in our present. Some closer to home than others. We have come to be opponents in a tag team match. Some my say this match is just a warm up for your title shot as Ascension. Some would say this is a test to see if you really belong in the title picture.”
“I say it’s both.”
“I will test you.”
“I will prepare you.”
“That’s what you get when you face me in the ring, Lili. You get a warrior. A fighter. A relentless beast that refuses to quit until he is stopped. That is why I am the perfect opponent to prepare you for Ascension. If you can beat me, you will know that are ready to take the tag team championship and even when I beat you - you will know that you have been overcome by perpetual motion.”
“There is no shame in that, Rose.”
“Besides, I’ve already beat Canadian Coalition.”
Spartan smirks, flashing his teeth through his ginger beard.
Arrogant. Maybe Too much. Probably.
“Lili, bravado aside, when it comes down to it - when I step inside the ropes and onto the canvas - I have one objective and that’s victory. This week I will chase victory against you and your partner, Alex Scott - with Jazzy John. And all things being equal, girl. That is exactly what will happen. See, without experience I intend to work with my partner and history has shown that you are not particularly receptive working together with Alex.”
“I believe you words were - ‘I don’t need a man to protect me in a match’. And you may well be right, Lil. But when it comes down to it in tag team wrestling you need a partner to have your back. And if you’re not willing to walk down that path with man, woman or indifferent.”
“That a big one in the ell column for you.”
“Not that I am complaining if you bring that attitude to Metal this week. It’s just a big tick for me.”
“When the day comes - I want you at your best - No excuses. No histrionics, just Lili motherfucking Rose looking to kick ass.”
Later in the Day
“Ya gotta get better fuckin friends, son.” says Jerry Eisenhower as he walks across the floor towards Tristan Cross who is working with a crash test dummy in the middle of the ring.
Spartan drops the dummy and walks towards the ropes and leans on them as Jerry approaches him.
“It’s family.” says Cross.
“Don’ care. Ya wanna be champion. Ya gotta fuckin work.” says Eisenhower who climbs through the ropes. “Pick up the fuckin’ dummy, son.”
Tristan looks at Eisenhower sternly and pauses for a minute before moving to the dummy and lifting it up.
Spartan stands up from his steel chair and spins it around so he is sitting on backwards with his arms leaning on the backrest.
“Alex Scott.”
Spartan nods.
“You and I are pretty well linked when it comes to Alpha Pro. You signed on that dotted line not long after I did. Hell, we are pretty much on the some tangent curve when it comes to the length of our career. Some things have gone a little differently. I found myself at One Big Brawl competing for and then winning the Hardcore Title at Alpha Showdown. Some would say that victory was lucky - I intend to keep proving people wrong when it comes to that statement. And then you - you had your own degree of success at Alpha Showdown. You managed to earn yourself a title shot for the tag team belts with your finishing position in the world-renowned Showdown match.”
“I respect that. I haven’t to respect that effort.”
“But I have watched you since Showdown. There is an ego there most definitely. Is it deserved, I would say so. You have achieved things early in your career that other people dream of. Title shots. Main Events. Its quality stuff, Alex. I am not going to take away any that, Alex. No intention of it at all. But what I do intend to take the victory away from you on Metal. I don’t care about your title shot at Ascension. I care about winning at Metal. It’s the same deal I told Lili. I will test you. I will prepare you for your title shot. But most of all I will look to beat you.”
He’s too cocky.
“The problem I see Alex - is while Lili feels she doesn’t need a man to protect her. You feel you have to threaten your partner to work with you. I know you now think you have formed some degree of friendship with her - and sincerely hope that you have - it will make it all the more satisfying taking victory from a cohesive team than taking victory from two bickering individuals.”
“When you beat the best - you get to prove that you belong - and in my short time as a wrestler and my even shorter time here in Alpha Pro Wrestling - this is where the best of the best compete. This is where any small mistake will be seized upon and victory taken from the jaws of defeat, or defeat ripped from the hands of victory. Those mistakes that are made by you, Alex. Those are the mistakes I am going to seize upon and send you on a Revolution. That’s why it’s important you and Lili work together. If you don’t - then you will simply give me too many chances to seize upon and without a doubt you will go up on my shoulders and you will go for a ride.”
Spartan stands up, folds the chair and puts it under his arm.
“Alex and Lili - I am coming for victory on Monday Night Metal.”
“And I am coming for you.”
Spartan point the index finger of his free hand straight ahead and walks off.
The Next Day
Quinn Black and Tristan Cross and wearing matching black singlets and black shorts. Both men are sitting on the concrete blocks that run along the path next to Malibu Beach. They are tying their shoelaces
“That old guy is crazy, T.” Black says as he finishes tying his laces and stands up.
“Just old, Q. Just old.” says Cross as he stands himself.
Both men start jogging towards Venice.
