Post by Easton Alexander on Apr 17, 2023 21:30:48 GMT -5
A warehouse full of people I've never seen before… but if she's happy that's what matters, good on the kid, winning a belt is a big deal.
Drinks and music, a classic college party, but unlike a party with actual college kids they didn't throw this one for no reason, this ones for Em, all the drinks are made to her success. And honestly as many people clown on me for… having a great protégé? I don't care man, I'm so proud.
*Incoherent Creed rambling/singing starts playing from Easton’s phone*
“Hello, You got Easton.”
“Weston! How’s the champ?” Tamika Strader, my new boss.
“Good, great even. She's not letting the success go to her head…”
I peek over at where she was last, she's currently having a “shot battle” as they call it. It's where you take shots until somebody throws up, as a stream of green flies from Emiko’s mouth… I think she lost.
“... I hope… “
“Well hey, You're booked for Piledriver. Main event spot.”
Eastons face lights up a little. “Lay it on me Boss.”
“You Vs Pic, Non title of course. I felt like you two can make some magic”
Jesus fucking christ.
“Yeah… thanks.”
“Problem with that?”
“None.”
*Click*
I look down at my phone, the screen flickers with the name of my what… 9th boss in 2 years.
“Fuck…”
Whatever, third times the charm, I'm a better man, a better wrestler. He may be the world champ, but I don't bother myself with their little pieces of tin. If you have the skills they will showcase you, they wouldn't put me in there with him unless they thought i could keep up!
…
Right?
Emikos stumbles her way over to the wall Easton’s leaning on.
“Shenshei.. あそこにいる連中はあなたと戦いたがっている”
“Em, you know my Japanese isn't that good.”
“ふざけるな... I said thoshe guys over there…” She drunkenly points over to a group of boys standing by my trophy cabinet… that's empty. “They said they wanna arm wrestle.”
Yeah fuck it.
“Yeah fuck it, i’ll give em a go.” Emiko grabs my hand and drags me over, one of my small fold out tables i use as merch stands acts as a battlefield, she sits me in one of the chairs.
“彼を手に入れました.”
“You are still talking in Japanese.” I say as I jokingly hit her on the arm.
“Sorry… here he his, fuck em up East.”
I Rest my arm on the table, awaiting one of the boys to sit down. Three prying judgemental eyes cut me deep, they see what everybody else sees. One of them, a bigger kid sits down opposite me and rests his elbow on the plastic of the fold out table and extends his hand which wraps around mine, he smirks… I smirk back.
“Come on brotha… let's see what you got.” I can already feel him twisting my wrist, trying to gain leverage before we even start. Emiko leans over the table and steadies our hands, lining them together.
Emiko lets the hands free, the boy starts wrenching his arm to the left. Look, the kid has bigger arms than me but he's showing all his cards, if this is all he has then it's a cake walk.
Easton waits for his moment, when the kid looks tired and starts slowing inching his way over to his side but for all the effort he puts in it feels like the kid just gains slightly more ground. Easton hold for as long as he can before something catches his eye, somebody walks into the middle of the room, Talking to Josh Berardi, one of Eastons students. His attention waverys causing his hand to crash down. he stands up directing Emikos attention over to him.
The Bushy Moustache and Grey hair, the cheap but expensive looking beige suit. that cant but any body else but.
"Lou?"
Louis Phol, looks over at Emiko and Easton, arms outstretched.
"How the fuck are you kids?"
"How are you Lou?"
"Well you know me, always busy. I wanted to talk too you Easton."
"Of course."
...
"... Alone"
Easton gestures to Emiko, just nods and walks back to the plastic table and takes a seat, ready to arm wrestle those dudes instead of Easton.
"Lets head outside."
~~~
The cold April night in Toronto chills Easton and Lou. the lights on the skyline captures their attention before they return to the conversation.
"Crash is good, he's enjoying spending time with the babe."
"That's good... I'm glad" i kick a rock by my feet, me and Lou aren't exactly friends.
"She looks like she's having fu-" i cut him off.
"What do you want Lou, why are you here."
He looks down at his shoes and takes a deep breath.
"Alright... I miss having him around alright, so I'm looking to fill a Crash sized hole."
"So what... you want to manage Emiko?"
"No, she can look after herself... I was gonna ask if you wanted to take one of your students to the next level, but lately... the only person who needs any guidance is you."
Easton laughs, feeling insulted.
"You are... You got balls man."
"Im being serious for fuck sake, i mean look at you, you walk around like your a 25 year vet, your a baby in this business. show a little backbone don't take shit from anybody."
"your not managing me Lou end of story."
"I'm not asking that, I'm asking if you'll just come to me when you need it, help me get you out of whatever funk your in. Its not like this is my idea... I owe this too your dad."
Easton is stunned, and confused.
"There was a fathers trip a couple months ago, your dad was there and me and him started talking. he was telling me about how you've been having doubts about yourself. I didn't give a shit because... I don't like you, but Crash is gone and I need something to do. plus... I'm helping your mom and dad rekindle their fire for each other."
The look on Easton's face changes from confusion to anger.
"Are you fucking kidding me!"
"Easty baby come on now... remember who your talking too."
"Alright look, ill agree for now, but if this is a fucking trick ill put you in the ground alright?"
"Cross my heart."
"Alright... see you on Wednesday."
~~~
The rain falls hard on a grade filled yard, a graveyard if you will. A 5 foot deep hole in the very centre with dirt flinging out of the side. A bored looking 17 year old in a beach chair reading an old manga copy.
“He's in there.” gesturing towards the hole.
Easton Alexander, covered in dirt and mud sticking to every part of his body.
“You know, I used to think PIC was like a mentor… or a rival… but every time I see the guy he looks disappointed in me, and I wish I could tell the world that i'm not who people think I am… but I need him to be here, so people can know. But they don't call it show-friends.”
Another shovel of dirt out of the hole.
“We've done this song and dance before steve and you've sung it well twice over. Mask or not you've pinned me twice. And it doesnt fucking bother me, not one bit. Because you should beat me, if we faced 100 times you should win all of them. You are world travelled, world champion, You are the Pimp in charge. I'm just a kid from a shitty town in southern Ontario, using moves from games and old tapes of Japanese aces. Am I in over my head? Fucking A I am, am I good enough to beat these killers? Man I can certainly try. Does this match even mean anything? To you Steve… Nah, but when i step onto the ramp… when i step between the ropes. Every match is my most important match. I don't want a title match, even if i beat you i dont expect shit… all i want is a handshake, and for you to tell me that i'm alright at this whole wrestling thing.”
Another two scoops fly out of the hole and onto the pile, Easton takes a breather to wipe the sweat off his brow. He checks his hands, which the blisters have popped and blood starts to coat his mits.
“I think a lot of people take a look at my accomplishments and try to undermine what i've done, there's people with way better records than me here. But what people need to take into account is that I've been doing this for a year. I'm 22 years old, i've never left, i also never had my previous record scrubbed after taking some time off. Let me give you a little sneak peek into how this place works, and let me call out a couple people. If you leave OCW, they reset your ranking and when you come back. They give a fresh 0-0. PIC has left and come back with a brand new clean slate and man. 28-5 is very impressive but what about when you started steve… You haven't been 28-5 for 20 years now… no you've lost… a lot, I would hazard a guess to say even more than me. I could terminate my contract with OCW after every match I lose and as long as they keep taking me back I could be undefeated my whole life. Guys like Crash rodriguez, Biff, pick a fucking Strader that record you see on OCW.com is a lie… That includes you Steve. Those of us who haven't been around since the Reagan administration are the only ones telling the truth. I'm 16-15, 16 wins. 15 losses. And shit man if im not worried about it why should anybody else be so fucking hung up on it. It's embarrassing that all you dudes do is worry about my success, who gives a fuck about who ive beaten and who ive lost too… IM 22, and im not going to stop wrestling anytime soon, by the time i leave OCW i could be 50-34, fucking -105-105 I will never stop fighting. Im still fucking here, ive dealt with my depression, ive dealt with my demons. And coming back to fuck everybody up.”
The shovel thuds into a wooden coffin, Easton cracks it open... empty.
“Let's stop talking about shit that doesn't matter, let's stop trying to act like a nickname is who i am, Steve at piledriver as much as i want to keep being who i am its really hard to when all ive heard for the past 5 months is “Dragon name bad” “You no Dragon” FUCK… THAT, PIC im positive you could never see my face again and you would be okay with it and brother vice versa, but this is our job. So enough of the Nicknames. You're getting Easton on Wednesday. Plain old Easton, you wanna bury me so bad… I'll give you the goddamn nails so you can do so."
Easton climbs into the empty casket and brings the lid over the top. Before we hear muffled.
“Fuck the world… all i need is me.”
Drinks and music, a classic college party, but unlike a party with actual college kids they didn't throw this one for no reason, this ones for Em, all the drinks are made to her success. And honestly as many people clown on me for… having a great protégé? I don't care man, I'm so proud.
*Incoherent Creed rambling/singing starts playing from Easton’s phone*
“Hello, You got Easton.”
“Weston! How’s the champ?” Tamika Strader, my new boss.
“Good, great even. She's not letting the success go to her head…”
I peek over at where she was last, she's currently having a “shot battle” as they call it. It's where you take shots until somebody throws up, as a stream of green flies from Emiko’s mouth… I think she lost.
“... I hope… “
“Well hey, You're booked for Piledriver. Main event spot.”
Eastons face lights up a little. “Lay it on me Boss.”
“You Vs Pic, Non title of course. I felt like you two can make some magic”
Jesus fucking christ.
“Yeah… thanks.”
“Problem with that?”
“None.”
*Click*
I look down at my phone, the screen flickers with the name of my what… 9th boss in 2 years.
“Fuck…”
Whatever, third times the charm, I'm a better man, a better wrestler. He may be the world champ, but I don't bother myself with their little pieces of tin. If you have the skills they will showcase you, they wouldn't put me in there with him unless they thought i could keep up!
…
Right?
Emikos stumbles her way over to the wall Easton’s leaning on.
“Shenshei.. あそこにいる連中はあなたと戦いたがっている”
“Em, you know my Japanese isn't that good.”
“ふざけるな... I said thoshe guys over there…” She drunkenly points over to a group of boys standing by my trophy cabinet… that's empty. “They said they wanna arm wrestle.”
Yeah fuck it.
“Yeah fuck it, i’ll give em a go.” Emiko grabs my hand and drags me over, one of my small fold out tables i use as merch stands acts as a battlefield, she sits me in one of the chairs.
“彼を手に入れました.”
“You are still talking in Japanese.” I say as I jokingly hit her on the arm.
“Sorry… here he his, fuck em up East.”
I Rest my arm on the table, awaiting one of the boys to sit down. Three prying judgemental eyes cut me deep, they see what everybody else sees. One of them, a bigger kid sits down opposite me and rests his elbow on the plastic of the fold out table and extends his hand which wraps around mine, he smirks… I smirk back.
“Come on brotha… let's see what you got.” I can already feel him twisting my wrist, trying to gain leverage before we even start. Emiko leans over the table and steadies our hands, lining them together.
Emiko lets the hands free, the boy starts wrenching his arm to the left. Look, the kid has bigger arms than me but he's showing all his cards, if this is all he has then it's a cake walk.
Easton waits for his moment, when the kid looks tired and starts slowing inching his way over to his side but for all the effort he puts in it feels like the kid just gains slightly more ground. Easton hold for as long as he can before something catches his eye, somebody walks into the middle of the room, Talking to Josh Berardi, one of Eastons students. His attention waverys causing his hand to crash down. he stands up directing Emikos attention over to him.
The Bushy Moustache and Grey hair, the cheap but expensive looking beige suit. that cant but any body else but.
"Lou?"
Louis Phol, looks over at Emiko and Easton, arms outstretched.
"How the fuck are you kids?"
"How are you Lou?"
"Well you know me, always busy. I wanted to talk too you Easton."
"Of course."
...
"... Alone"
Easton gestures to Emiko, just nods and walks back to the plastic table and takes a seat, ready to arm wrestle those dudes instead of Easton.
"Lets head outside."
~~~
The cold April night in Toronto chills Easton and Lou. the lights on the skyline captures their attention before they return to the conversation.
"Crash is good, he's enjoying spending time with the babe."
"That's good... I'm glad" i kick a rock by my feet, me and Lou aren't exactly friends.
"She looks like she's having fu-" i cut him off.
"What do you want Lou, why are you here."
He looks down at his shoes and takes a deep breath.
"Alright... I miss having him around alright, so I'm looking to fill a Crash sized hole."
"So what... you want to manage Emiko?"
"No, she can look after herself... I was gonna ask if you wanted to take one of your students to the next level, but lately... the only person who needs any guidance is you."
Easton laughs, feeling insulted.
"You are... You got balls man."
"Im being serious for fuck sake, i mean look at you, you walk around like your a 25 year vet, your a baby in this business. show a little backbone don't take shit from anybody."
"your not managing me Lou end of story."
"I'm not asking that, I'm asking if you'll just come to me when you need it, help me get you out of whatever funk your in. Its not like this is my idea... I owe this too your dad."
Easton is stunned, and confused.
"There was a fathers trip a couple months ago, your dad was there and me and him started talking. he was telling me about how you've been having doubts about yourself. I didn't give a shit because... I don't like you, but Crash is gone and I need something to do. plus... I'm helping your mom and dad rekindle their fire for each other."
The look on Easton's face changes from confusion to anger.
"Are you fucking kidding me!"
"Easty baby come on now... remember who your talking too."
"Alright look, ill agree for now, but if this is a fucking trick ill put you in the ground alright?"
"Cross my heart."
"Alright... see you on Wednesday."
~~~
The rain falls hard on a grade filled yard, a graveyard if you will. A 5 foot deep hole in the very centre with dirt flinging out of the side. A bored looking 17 year old in a beach chair reading an old manga copy.
“He's in there.” gesturing towards the hole.
Easton Alexander, covered in dirt and mud sticking to every part of his body.
“You know, I used to think PIC was like a mentor… or a rival… but every time I see the guy he looks disappointed in me, and I wish I could tell the world that i'm not who people think I am… but I need him to be here, so people can know. But they don't call it show-friends.”
Another shovel of dirt out of the hole.
“We've done this song and dance before steve and you've sung it well twice over. Mask or not you've pinned me twice. And it doesnt fucking bother me, not one bit. Because you should beat me, if we faced 100 times you should win all of them. You are world travelled, world champion, You are the Pimp in charge. I'm just a kid from a shitty town in southern Ontario, using moves from games and old tapes of Japanese aces. Am I in over my head? Fucking A I am, am I good enough to beat these killers? Man I can certainly try. Does this match even mean anything? To you Steve… Nah, but when i step onto the ramp… when i step between the ropes. Every match is my most important match. I don't want a title match, even if i beat you i dont expect shit… all i want is a handshake, and for you to tell me that i'm alright at this whole wrestling thing.”
Another two scoops fly out of the hole and onto the pile, Easton takes a breather to wipe the sweat off his brow. He checks his hands, which the blisters have popped and blood starts to coat his mits.
“I think a lot of people take a look at my accomplishments and try to undermine what i've done, there's people with way better records than me here. But what people need to take into account is that I've been doing this for a year. I'm 22 years old, i've never left, i also never had my previous record scrubbed after taking some time off. Let me give you a little sneak peek into how this place works, and let me call out a couple people. If you leave OCW, they reset your ranking and when you come back. They give a fresh 0-0. PIC has left and come back with a brand new clean slate and man. 28-5 is very impressive but what about when you started steve… You haven't been 28-5 for 20 years now… no you've lost… a lot, I would hazard a guess to say even more than me. I could terminate my contract with OCW after every match I lose and as long as they keep taking me back I could be undefeated my whole life. Guys like Crash rodriguez, Biff, pick a fucking Strader that record you see on OCW.com is a lie… That includes you Steve. Those of us who haven't been around since the Reagan administration are the only ones telling the truth. I'm 16-15, 16 wins. 15 losses. And shit man if im not worried about it why should anybody else be so fucking hung up on it. It's embarrassing that all you dudes do is worry about my success, who gives a fuck about who ive beaten and who ive lost too… IM 22, and im not going to stop wrestling anytime soon, by the time i leave OCW i could be 50-34, fucking -105-105 I will never stop fighting. Im still fucking here, ive dealt with my depression, ive dealt with my demons. And coming back to fuck everybody up.”
The shovel thuds into a wooden coffin, Easton cracks it open... empty.
“Let's stop talking about shit that doesn't matter, let's stop trying to act like a nickname is who i am, Steve at piledriver as much as i want to keep being who i am its really hard to when all ive heard for the past 5 months is “Dragon name bad” “You no Dragon” FUCK… THAT, PIC im positive you could never see my face again and you would be okay with it and brother vice versa, but this is our job. So enough of the Nicknames. You're getting Easton on Wednesday. Plain old Easton, you wanna bury me so bad… I'll give you the goddamn nails so you can do so."
Easton climbs into the empty casket and brings the lid over the top. Before we hear muffled.
“Fuck the world… all i need is me.”