One last punch, one last match, one win, one good ol' rumble

[Ehud Gray II]

The desert is harsh and inhospitable. Scorpions crawl, snakes slither, tumbleweed bounces about. Two feet come into the shot. Black cowboy boots. Walking slowly but surely. The camera pans up and it is Ehud of Moab. He looks up and sees far in the distance a small grocery store. He walks forward, step after step, the clip of his boots echoing over the silence. He was 89 years old and looked every day of it. His face was not clean shaven, his hair was not neat and tidy, his clothing was.. well.. it could use some laundering. But he wandered toward the grocery, determined as ever. His face was covered in wrinkles, a sad sight and a reminder of our own mortality. One day, we all will either die too young or end up like Ehud of Moab.. an old man, trying to make his way through the world with a body that has deteriorated to the point that normal tasks take a bit longer. However, the camera finally panned and zoomed in on Ehud’s hands. Both swung at his sides. His fists were clenched. They looked strong. Not like a 20 year old street fighter’s hands.. but like a 50 year old man with a few more wrinkles than he should have - but strong hands. He slows for a moment, bites his lip and looks around, wipes his brow, and then continues walking forward.



The camera pans out and shows the epic journey. An old man headed toward a small grocery. What would he purchase? Who would he see?



We wait.. We watch.



Finally the camera pans back in and zooms to show Ehud arriving at the door of the market. He walks up to the doors, those types that open automatically when you stand in front of them. And stand there he did. The doors did not activate.



The camera moved in close and Ehud furrowed his brow and looked at the door, reading the hours. 8am - 12midnight. He looked at his watch and tapped it a few times. It wasn’t working. He had no cell phone to check, but he noticed a homeless man sitting to the side of the store. He walked over to him and pulled a sweaty dollar bill out of his pocket. Ehud walked toward the man and offered the dollar. The homeless man’s hand came up and clenched the dollar.



Homeless: Thank you so much.. it’s been a hard year..



Ehud: Do you know the time?



The homeless man reached into his homeless sack and pulled out an iPhone - not the latest version, but probably like an iPhone 10. He checked the time and looked up at Ehud.



Homeless: 7:45.



Ehud nodded his head. He moved against the building and leaned against it. You could see the relief in his eyes. He felt good.



Ehud: You been on the street long?



Homeless: Just a year.. just the worst year..



Ehud: I used to try to help people like you.. tried to get you off the street, get a job, get some respect..



Homeless: Why don’t you do that anymore?



Ehud: They said it was time for me to retire.. so I started professional wrestling.



Homeless: ..um.. for real?



Ehud: Yeah.. I’ve been doing it for a while now..



Homeless: Hold on.. you’re… you’re still doing.. professional wrestling?



Ehud looks at the homeless man with a bit of anger and then just settles back in against the wall again and looks more at peace.



Ehud: Yeah I’m old.. but I’ve got strong fists and a good punch.. both of my hands work. All it takes is one good punch and someone like Jack Sullivan will find themselves embarrassed and eliminated by an old man.



The homeless guy just stares at Ehud with his mouth open.



Homeless: What if they like.. bodyslam you? You’ll die.



Ehud: I’ve been bodyslammed before. I’ve been suplexed before.. I’m no stranger to a little pain.. and I’m not going into the Rumble in the Bronx to win.. I’m going in to punch some motherfucker and get one last victory before I ride off into the sunset.



Homeless: Retirement?



Ehud: Or death.. who knows. I’m 89 years old. I’m retired from being a sheriff..



The guy’s mouth suddenly opens.



Homeless: You’re.. you’re Ehud of Moab! I remember you from OCW!



Ehud suddenly seems kinda irritated. Like he was just coming here to get some groceries and not be harassed by a homeless fan.



Homeless: Listen, man.. will you autograph my homeless sack?



Ehud looks at the backpack-ish item that the homeless guy is talking about. He signs and leans down, grabbing a marker from seemingly nowhere and signing it.



Homeless: Thanks a bunch man!



Ehud nods and turns in a bit of a stir as he sees a car pull into the parking lot fast - faster than it should be going. It’s wheels screeched as it dangerously parked. A man got out of the car and rushed into the store, the door opening, since apparently now it was open. Ehud nodded to the homeless guy and headed toward the door of the store.



He wasn’t walking fast, so this took a little bit.. but eventually he got to the automatic doors and stood there. They opened and he began his trek into the store. Walking up to the counter, he saw a man behind the counter. The cashier was an older man, probably in his 60s.



Ehud: Hey.. you’ve got a customer, probably some young whipper snapper, who needs a knock upside their head.. driving dangerously.



Cashier: Well there’s only two of you in here.. hey, are you that guy who used to be the sheriff?



Nodding his head, Ehud looked around the store. He then looked right in front of him at the assortment of jerky and pepperonis they had in front of the cash register.



Ehud: I used to love this stuff.. now it’s kinda spicy and might keep me up..



Behind him, one can see the produce section. A disturbing face pops up from behind a display of peaches. It’s THE PROCTOLOGIST, Ehud’s psychotic and deranged son who also used to wrestle for OCW. THE PROCTOLOGIST does not see Ehud, but rather is busy with the peaches. He looks at them and picks one up, giving it a slow lick. It is very disturbing to watch.



Cashier: There are some milder ones over on the left..



Ehud: Well I don’t want those ones.. just these are a bad idea..



Ehud began picking up various individually-packed pepperonis and looking at them.



Ehud: I prefer these ones that are wrapped to the ones in the bin.. you never know today.. some people..



Meanwhile, just 10 feet behind him his own son is licking EVERY. SINGLE. PEACH. In the bin. The cashier would probably be able to see him, but obviously wasn’t about to say something.. or he didn’t pay close enough attention to notice the man licking peaches 10 feet away from him.



Ehud: Teriyaki, eh? I was never a big fan.. you know.. after the war..


The cashier looks rather shocked, but then tells himself that Ehud is from another time. He relaxes a bit and then he notices THE PROCTOLOGIST. He sighs audibly and under his breath says, “oh not this fucker again..,” but he says it so quietly that the 89 year old clearly doesn’t hear him.



The cashier walks out from behind the counter and over to where THE PROCTOLOGIST is violating the fruit. “Sir! SIR!”



THE PROCTOLOGIST ducks behind the bin of peaches and the cashier sighs loudly. “Sir, I can see you hiding there. This is not your personal home. You cannot do things to fruit like that here.. the fruit should not be touched unless you plan to buy it.”



THE PROCTOLOGIST stood up and stepped out from behind the bin, straightening his necktie. He was wearing a suit and just had a look on his face that was batshit crazy.



THE PROCTOLOGIST: I have no idea what you’re talking about..



Cashier: Sir you were licking the peaches.



THE PROCTOLOGIST: I am allergic to peaches.. if I did that I would be dead.. I am a doctor. I save lives.



He stepped up toward the counter, noticing the jerky and pepperonis that were in bins and needed to be selected with tongs. He loved those.. licking them. He walked toward them with an eagerness and then he saw Ehud. The two men looked at each other with trepidation and confusion.



Ehud: What the fuck are you doing here?



THE PROCTOLOGIST: I live just around the corner.. this is where I shop..



Cashier: You never buy anything..



Ehud: Was that you driving unsafely?



THE PROCTOLOGIST: I am an excellent driver..



Ehud: You’re insane.. please stop coming here. This is where I shop.



THE PROCTOLOGIST glares at his father. Ehud glares at his son. The cashier glares at THE PROCTOLOGIST. It’s the circle of life. The cashier is the one to break the silence.



Cashier: Can I help either of you gentlemen?



Ehud nodded and set two pepperonis down on the counter. THE PROCTOLOGIST stepped in and put down some cash on the counter. Ehud went to stop him, but THE PROCTOLOGIST waved him off. “You’re my father.. and I’m a doctor..” Ehud saw the logic and nodded. “I save lives..” “You’re just a sicko..,” Ehud corrected him. THE PROCTOLOGIST thought it over for a second and then nodded, sorta agreeing.



THE PROCTOLOGIST: Listen.. you.. you.. doing okay, dad?



Thinking it over for a moment, Ehud nodded.



Ehud: I’m good.. wrestling in a week..



THE PROCTOLOGIST: Wrestling..? Dad I’m too old to wrestle.. you’re way too old.



Ehud: Just one more match.. I’m not trying to win the whole thing.. I just.. I want to knock one more bastard out. Jack Sullivan. Or someone else. One final win to crown off the ol’ career..



His son thought it over for a second and then nodded. “As a medical doctor, you know, I can’t advise you that this is safe.. but as your son, I’m proud of you.”



Ehud (smiling and nodding): That’s okay.. your medical degree is from a very questionable school and all of your training and techniques seem.. well.. let’s just say I’m not coming to see you for any medical advice.



THE PROCTOLOGIST glared at his father. Ehud glared at his son. The cashier glared at them both.



Cashier: You mind leaving? The manager doesn’t mind if I watch TV when the store is empty..



The cashier motioned toward a TV that seemed to be playing a Jerry Springer rerun from the 1990s. THE PROCTOLOGIST rolled his eyes and walked away, heading out of the store. Ehud followed him, but at a slower pace. Ehud walked out into the morning sun and grimaced a bit. He squinted his eyes and looked around. He noticed the homeless man from earlier was walking up to him, looking incredibly excited.



Homeless: YOUR AUTOGRAPH! It’s going on EBay right now for $1200!! And the auction just started 30 minutes ago.



Ehud’s eyes bulged.



Ehud: What?



Homeless: They say its the rarest autograph in OCW history! EBay is BUZZING!



Ehud: I’ve never signed an autograph before. What is EBay?



The homeless guy looked at Ehud like he had four heads.



A horrible deep laugh is heard in the distance, like a villain in a cartoon. Both the homeless man and Ehud hear it and look up. Near where the homeless man was standing earlier was a dumpster for trash. From behind the dumpster stepped THE TIME TRAVELING GRIMACE. It looked at the two men ominously and Ehud shook his head. One can tell it is TIME TRAVELING GRIMACE because of the giant Flava Flav clock around his neck.



Ehud: My ancient nemesis..



Homeless (under his breath): What the fuck is this? Am I a part of the television show? This autograph is going to be worth so much.



The giant character in the grimace costume walked closer to the two men. It was carrying a large harpoon.



Ehud: You better get outta-



Homeless: What is going on?! What do we-



The Grimace ran up to the two men. Those familiar with OCW’s history will recognize the exact move that the Grimace is about to do - it will probably spark conspiracy theories that The Big Bifford actually played the role of the Grimace in this shit. Holding the harpoon with both hands, the Grimace shouts out, “I’LL SEE YOU IN HELL, YOU STUPID FISH!” And with that the Grimace stepped to launch the harpoon - directly quoting Bifford’s attack on the Mike Best Fish and then years later the Dolphin. However, a car door swung open and THE PROCTOLOGIST screamed “LOOK OUT DAD!!!” This scream from Ehud’s son was enough to make The Grimace lose focus. He threw the harpoon and it slammed through the chest of the homeless man, who crashed to the ground with a thud.



Grimace: Shit, I didn’t mean to do that..



The homeless man very clearly died instantly. The Grimace looks around awkwardly and then grabs the clock around his neck and disappears, presumably traveling somewhere else in time. Ehud raises his fist and shakes it toward where the Grimace was. “My ancient enemy..” Ehud then looked down at the dead homeless man, “my best friend..” about the man he just met a few minutes ago. THE PROCTOLOGIST walks over and looks at the homeless man.



THE PROCTOLOGIST (nervously): Why don’t you.. go.. call the police.. but not too quickly.. I need to.. examine him..



THE PROCTOLOGIST looks creepily at the corpse and Ehud cringes noticeably, realizing what his son.. wanted.. to do.. He turned to walk into the store again, moving slowly. His son smiled and looked at the harpooned corpse. He looked like he was going to move slowly and enjoy himself too.



The scene faded to darkness before any of that happened, though.



THANKSGIVING DAY, DENNY’S, SOMEWHERE IN UTAH OR ARIZONA OR NEW MEXICO



Ehud and THE PROCTOLOGIST are awkwardly sitting across from each other.



Ehud: You have children right?



THE PROCTOLOGIST: One son.. and grandchildren.. you might know if you were around for holidays more often..



Ehud: I’m around this year and we are alone at Denny’s.



THE PROCTOLOGIST: The turkey is really good..



Ehud glared at his son.



Ehud: What does your son do?



THE PROCTOLOGIST: He’s a professional wrestler..



Ehud: For real? Any good?



THE PROCTOLOGIST: He’s never been really challenged yet.. big fish in a small town..



Ehud: He have boys?



THE PROCTOLOGIST nods. Ehud nods. “You think a lot about legacy..” “Don’t you?” The two men both nodded. They both had more days behind them than they have ahead of them. A waitress came and put two sad looking Thanksgiving dinners in front of them.



Ehud: Thanks for inviting me..



THE PROCTOLOGIST: I’m not sure you should wrestle..



Ehud: It’s just a little rumble.. I’ll punch someone.. try to get one elimination.. one last.. vindication. Eliminating someone like Alice Knight or Thaddeus Duke.. it would be a nice way to cap off a.. career.



THE PROCTOLOGIST: Kinda mediocre career..



Ehud: Better than yours. I have wins over both Mario Maurako and Silver Cyanide, remember.



His son nods, acknowledging those wins. Ehud starts eating and cringes. “This sucks..” THE PROCTOLOGIST puts his napkin on like a bib and licks his chops. Looking down, he begins consuming his food at a disturbing and disguising pace. Shoveling piles of food without discrimination into his mouth. Everything was to be mixed. The waitress returned to the table and looked down with a look of disgust as the man chocked down the food. “Anything.. else… I can.. get.. you..?” She asked, sounding like she was trying to not feel sick to her stomach. THE PROCTOLOGIST, with a mouth full of food, grunted out “Syrup!” Ehud looked rather disturbed. He pushed the turkey around his plate a bit, looking for some dark meat.



THE PROCTOLOGIST noticed Ehud picking and smirked, “you like the dark meat?” Ehud nodded. His son laughed devilishly, “so do I,” he said looking as though he was saying something inappropriate. “I had sex with a black woman..,” he said. Ehud cringed, not in a racist way, but not wanting to hear about his son’s sex life. “My son is black.. but he’s my son.. and your grandson.. he just looks more like his mom..”



Ehud took another bite of turkey and then looked at his son with a confused look. “What do you mean he’s black?” Ehud asked, trying to not make the question sound racist. “I mean he looks like he’s 100% black.. but he’s my son.. you should see the resemblance. I didn’t do much with the raising of him.. just paid the child support for 18 years.. He’s a Gray alright. Ehud Gray II.” Ehud’s mouth opened wide, “you named him after me?” But Ehud kept thinking about it. Then he looked at his creepy son. Under his breath he groaned.



The door to the Denny’s swung open and a large black man, who definitely looked absolutely nothing like Ehud or his son, walked in. He looked over and saw his father and Ehud at the table and shouted, “MY DAD!” And ran over. He wasn’t a kid. He was probably in his 50s. Ehud realized that his family lineage will die with his fruit-licking, perverted son. THE PROCTOLOGIST motioned to Ehud II and said, “this is your grandson.. son, this is the man you got your name from.. your grandfather.” Ehud II jumped into the booth and hugged Ehud. Ehud hugged the large black man, who apparently fully believed the weird fake doctor was his biological father.



The waitress came to the table with the maple syrup and set it down in front of THE PROCTOLOGIST. The weird man began drinking the syrup directly from the vessel. The waitress shuddered and walked away.



Ehud II: Anything you need, grandpa?



Ehud: One really good punch.. and I need to deliver it Sunday..



The large black man looked at his small white grandfather with confusion, his father across the table was still drinking maple syrup. Ehud looked at his son and the strange man who believed he was his grandson. He reached out his elderly hands and placed one on each man’s arm, leaning to get his hand on THE PROCTOLOGIST across the table. “Thank you.. both of you. You’re good boys..,” he said, suddenly accepting this was his family legacy. The scene faded to darkness.