Post by TOUCHDOWN on Dec 1, 2022 4:48:25 GMT
Three
Two…
…
Two…
…
“Alright, quiet, quiet, shh...”
The door creaks open, two shadows enter.
“SURPRISE!!!!!”
Light. A mishmash of clashing and interchanging colours. Noise. The roar of the people packed in the warehouse - decorated like a club. Above them stands Tuna Meltzer, surrounded by a sound system and pointing towards the door.
“ONE-HUNDRED AND THIRTY THREE DAYS BABY, YEAH!!”
Meltzer’s shrill voice rings out towards its target: Alastor Touchdown. Flanked alongside his tag partner and friend, Jimi Cooldown, who pats him warmly on the shoulder.
“What is this?”
Touchdown whispers to Cooldown, his tone devoid of any cheer.
“You’ve been a real moody bastard lately. We figured you oughta relax.”
‘You’re The Best Around’ by Joe Esposito begins blaring from the speakers while the duo exchange words. Tuna cries into the microphone.
“Here’s to continuing our reign in January, buddy! YOU’RE the best around! YOU!”
Confetti blasts into the air as the audience dance along with the song. A banner unfurls behind Tuna, reading:
‘JUDITH VS. TOUCHDOWN
0-3’
0-3’
The Openweight Champion stares wordlessly at the scene before him, walking stoically towards the stage, flanked on all sides by revelry. Gleefully guided by Cooldown.
After wading through the crowd, The Jamrockers make it to the stage where Meltzer embraces them both with a hug. Presenting them before the crowd who cheer at the men of the hour.
"JAMROCK FOR LIFE! SUCK! OUR! DICKS!!!!!"
Cooldown yells into the microphone with vigour, grabbing and shaking Touchdown in his adrenaline. Meltzer leans forward.
"THE UNBEATEN, LONGEST REIGNING CHAMPION IN IPW HISTORY, HAPPY NEW YEAR! HAPPY-!"
"So, Judith's already lost has she?"
Touchdown finally makes his voice heard. More subdued than his partners but his irritance is unmistakable. Meltzer's joy immediately falters.
"W-... Well, no. But… y'know, it's almost the off-season and you've beaten Judith before, then you did it again in the tag-"
This sets off something in the Champion. With sudden rage, Touchdown kicks in the sound system, silencing the music and everyone else.
"YEAH, I WON BUT I DIDN'T BEAT 'EM!"
Feedback permeates through the warehouse. Touchdown’s hand clasps over the microphone, knuckles turning white.
“That tag match wasn’t about winning. It was about firmly establishing what we’ve already shown, that I am the best in IPW. Me. No one else. So, Judith dropping me on the apron and MYOJIN getting the pin… It hasn’t been sitting well with me. Winning’s easy, statements matter. So, what happened at Adrenaline wasn’t a victory and Judy isn’t beneath my notice.”
“Not due to respect; but because she robbed me of making one last “fuck you” to the Champion, the office and the fans.”
“Not due to respect; but because she robbed me of making one last “fuck you” to the Champion, the office and the fans.”
An uncomfortable silence lingers in the air. Touchdown turns to the crowd.
“Everybody. Out.”
A few moments of shuffling before the partygoers awkwardly filter out the warehouse, Touchdown returns his attention to his entourage.
“I want all this shit cleared away.”
Tuna nods and immediately drops down, scooping confetti up in his arms. Cooldown, previously taken aback at his friend’s reaction, turns indignant.
“Alright, you’re spiralling man. Ever since you won that damn belt. The whole point was to fuck with the IPW roster and look damn fine doin’ it! Now, we’ve accomplished that! You know s’well as I do that you can knock Pretty Judy down anytime. So let’s relax. We’re done!”
A gentle smirk on Cooldown’s face as he tries reasoning with his best friend, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
Touchdown steps forward. Expression of disgust. Voice low.
“We’re done. When I say. We’re done.”
Silence.
“Understand?”
Further silence. Meltzer looks back and forth between the two Jamrockers, not daring to utter a sound.
“...Yeah.”
The after party.
Lights out. Noise gone. Decorations mostly torn, the festive atmosphere of the warehouse replaced with its drab reality. Amongst it, on the stage, sits Alastor Touchdown.
“IPW’s fulla strong guys and gals ain’t it? Hillbilly families, people that drink blood and break bones, ladies that feel no pain. But, when it comes time to carve your path with that strength and TAKE what’s yours?...”
“Well, suddenly, all those stroooong guys an’ gals are content to sit like dogs and wait for the scraps to come their way.”
A flash of silver shines towards the camera. The National Openweight Championship.
“I didn’t wait for this, Judy. I spat in Jason Long’s fuckin’ face and TOOK it. You keep goin’ into fights presentin’ yourself as “The Boogeyman” and expectin’ everyone to fold in terror. But they don't. They see right through you, ‘cause you’re as much a phony as them. It’s this self-perpetuating loop in IPW that makes me violently ill to my stomach. That’s why I need to beat you. That’s why I need to climb even higher using your broken body. Because I’m the exception. The guy who breaks the established rules and ain’t beholden to the same cliches.”
“The strongest thing about you is your biggest flaw. You feel nothing. Empathy, mercy, pain. But the pride you take in all of that hasn’t gotten ya very far and that won’t change against me. You’re dangerous, but only as much as I let you be. Smarter competitors than you have tried to engage me mentally and came out with a loss, never knowing where it was they went wrong.”
“The strongest thing about you is your biggest flaw. You feel nothing. Empathy, mercy, pain. But the pride you take in all of that hasn’t gotten ya very far and that won’t change against me. You’re dangerous, but only as much as I let you be. Smarter competitors than you have tried to engage me mentally and came out with a loss, never knowing where it was they went wrong.”
He sneers.
“You’re a lion, fighting a hyena. I take chunks out of you, piece by piece. Until eventually, that lack of pain has you collapsed in the middle of the ring, worn down and dismantled without ever realising you were never really in control.”
“So you can’t outwit me. You won’t out-maneuver me and despite what you might think, you can’t out-villain me either.”
“So you can’t outwit me. You won’t out-maneuver me and despite what you might think, you can’t out-villain me either.”
Touchdown looks at his title, unimpressed, as the silver light dances against his face.
“That’s what you and IPW can’t understand. Wrestler, Boogeyman, it’s all predictable.”
“Real evil…”
“Real evil…”
He stands, hoisting the belt over his shoulder.
“Is inconceivable.”
Touchdown leaves, disappearing into the bowels of the warehouse.
Alone.
.....
.....
