(https://media0.giphy.com/media/qdHckxD24CPh6/200.gif)
Thinking of You
Paesano of Mulberry Street; New York City, NY 10/26/2021
Lemon sherbert… That’s what it came down to. I had a strong feeling that I wasn’t going to get the best of future Hall of Famer Kris Ryans. I’m just a young buck, and he’s been doing this for a very long time. But things could have gone much better. However, I’m watching as my brother-in-law gently scoops a spoonful of lemon sorbetto from the bowl in front of him, teasing me with it, and smiling all the while. If it weren’t too soon, I’d find it funny, but I’m not quite there yet. He savors the sweet, tart treat as I try not to even acknowledge it.
Andrey: Since Sunday night, I craved this. And, you know, I cannot figure out why…
His thick Russian accent makes it sound much more strange in my mind than it should. I guess I’m still not used to it. Either way, I choose not to acknowledge his comment as I look down at my phone. My stone cold demeanor is heavily tested when I open up a text from Kristjan. It reads:
”If you win that Internet Championship, you can be on top for a whole week.”
I’m not giving anyone the satisfaction of cracking a smile, but I have to admit that fighting it is starting to hurt. I guess some hint of my deceit cracks through, because Andrey grabs my phone and squints to read it.
Andrey: Ohhhhh-ho! Your sister owes me $10 American!
Me: Shut the fuck up and give me that back…
Andrey’s thumbs go to work quickly, even as I try to get the phone back. He swerves around, avoiding me until it is too late, and I hear the heart sinking sound of a message sent. Andrey puts the phone face down on the table and slides it over to me ever so slowly.
Me: Do I even want to know?
Andrey shrugs and takes another bite of his ice cream. I pick the phone up and read his response, along with the fast response from Kristjan.
”Only if I can wear the belt during.”
“Do you even have to ask ;)”
I purse my lips as I feel a light heat in my cheeks. Andrey laughs and gives my shoulder a playful shove. I think about replying, but the waiter brings our food to the table, and instantly, the smell of a smoky red cream sauce fills my nostrils first. That plate goes in front of Andrey, when a large plate of spaghetti and one giant meatball is placed in front of me. The meat sauce instantly makes my stomach growl and my mouth water. I pick up my fork to dig in, but Andrey smacks my hand and gives me an odd look.
Andrey: We must say grace first, child.
Me: You’ve been spending way too much time with Gerald. Miss me with that.
Andrey: Heathen…
Andrey picks up his fork and plays with the food a bit. I reach over and steal a shrimp and penne noodle from his plate with my fork and take a bite. I switch our plates, but Andrey switches them right back and spits on his food to “claim it”. He continues to stir as I feel a little less hungry because of it.
Andrey: So, things are going good with Fenris, yes?
Me: I don’t really know what you mean. We’re just feeling things out, enjoying each other’s company. We’re friends. With benefits.
Andrey: Ah, yes. I have those.
Me: I don’t want to hear about that. You’re married to my sister.
Andrey shrugs and takes a bite of food. He begins speaking with his mouth full, another pet peeve that I’m trying to control my reaction to. Plus, with his accent, it makes it slightly harder to understand him.
Andrey: She has also. We are, as you say here, not vanilla when it comes to bedroom activities. But, I do not go on dates with my benefit friends.
Me: We don’t go on dates. We hang out at the bar and stuff. And we, ya know…
Andrey chortles.
Andrey: You make love. You don’t fuck. There is difference. Big difference. You cuddle afterwards. You text each other motivational speech to win titles with promises of ongoing sexual… obligation? Is very romantic, in manly sort of way. You are lucky now.
Me: Lucky? Now? What does that even mean.
Andrey thinks on it for a moment. English is not his first language, so sometimes clarification is needed. He mulls it over with a couple of bites of food before his eyes light up.
Andrey: You wish for love to enter your life, yes? You think Virginia is it. But she is not. And you pretend she is. You follow Gerald’s wish to become engaged. But it does not feel right. Fenris feels right to you. But Gerald fucks your brain up with his electricity, cattle prodding, whipping, beating. Is more, I am sure. This I hear from your sister.
I listen and nod along. Flashbacks be damned, I make it through the whole thing with a straight face until these reminders take me through a time warp.
December 17th, 2015
The warmth of his body against mine is enough to make up for the cool air breezing through the window. We are wrapped up in each other, not a shred of cloth covering us at first. Despite this, I can only find myself lost in his deep, passionate brown eyes. At any moment, my parents could enter our room and discover what we have been doing for nearly a year. But any punishment seems worth it, just for another second of staring into those eyes, noticing the glints of red within the brown. Feeling his hairy, sweaty chest heave against mine. Having his wrapped up in my arms, and quivering with each warm breath of his that wanders across my neck and face. Our lips meet for what seems like forever, and only a second, all at the same time. Our bodies react to the cold, and he pulls the blanket over us and leans his face against the pillow.
Dax: How did I ever get so lucky?
I lower my head to his level, and selfishly take another moment to stare into his eyes. I notice his eyes squint in that way that almost guarantees a smile upon the lips. His beard doesn’t hide it very well, either.
Me: I’m not sure it’s luck. If anything, it’s an abomination. But it feels so right at the same time.
Dax: I don’t think something that feels so natural could be anything but lo… compassion.
I lean up just a little bit above him. He looks up into my eyes, and his lips beg for mine.
Me: What we’re doing is not compassion. It’s lust. It’s the commitment to damnation of our souls.
Dax’s smiling eyes fade into something close to anger. Correction. He’s flat out pissed. He removes my arm from around him and he spins up to a seated position. He sifts through our clothes on the floor and he finds a pair of black trunks that he pulls on. He stands up and finds his jeans, and a white undershirt. He pulls the jeans on, seeming to be in a hurry.
Me: You don’t have to leave me so soon. We’ve already done the misdeed. What’s wrong with taking comfort in the punishment He will dole out to us?
Dax: The punishment isn’t what could happen to us. The punishment is being in love with you. How could God find what we have so wrong? I mean, other than your constant doubt and putting what we have down like you do.
I pick up a pair of white briefs and pull them on under the covers. Dax rolls his eyes. I come from under the covers and I collect my clothes, a pair of faded jeans, a white t-shirt, and a tan jacket. Dax looks out of the window as he sees headlights approaching in the distance. He just watches, and I can feel an “off” energy about him. After pulling my clothes on, I wrap my arms around his shirtless torso and I hold him close. He doesn’t resist. Instead, he melts into me.
Me: I’m… I’m trying to wrap my head around this. Being tortured and told that how I feel is wrong is hard. Especially when all I want to do is make my father proud of me for once in my life. Seeing him turn his life around, I’m trying to be understanding.
Dax is quiet for a moment as he watches my father and mother get out of the church van. Esther, Scott Devereaux, Virginia Mae Putnam, and Andrew Borg come out of the back. Luckily, their eyes never look in our direction. Dax rubs my right arm as he looks back at me, and our lips meet softly for all of a second.
Dax: I’m trying to be understanding, too. Your father took me in when nobody else would give me a second glance. He has, in his own way, tried to help me to be a better person. But watching those conversion therapy sessions is the hardest form of torture I have ever witnessed in my life. It’s medieval and barbaric.
I nod my head as I run my hands over his stomach and chest, trying to comfort him, even as I feel him quiver in my grasp.
Me: There’s a purpose for us meeting. A lesson to be learned. Deep in my heart, I know it’s love. But… I’m scared. And at the same time, it makes it that much more exciting. I’m trying to figure out if that’s what makes this so appealing, or if we’re meant to be.
Dax: I discovered who I was when I went backpacking through Europe. I had partaken in some very intense psychedelics in Amsterdam, and I wound up in a very open collection of hands on individuals. A man named Claude who was visiting from Champagne took me on a day-long journey that showed me things I never even dreamed possible. The ecstasy was unparalleled… until I met you. I was chasing dragons, and then I found one.
He turns around and I hand him his shirt. He puts it on and pulls down the back, but he leans his bare chest against my shirt, looking right into my eyes.
Dax: Now that I’m here, I just don’t want to get burned by your breath, and that is what scares me the most. I love you, David Shepherd. And right now, that’s all that matters.
He leans in once more, pressing his lips against mine. For the first time, I sense vanilla. The flavor. Bursting strong. To this day, I remember that taste. I don’t know why, but it was such a warm sensation. Notes I never truly took time to appreciate. The simplicity, yet the depth.
The snapping fingers in my face bring me back to reality, and yet, I can still taste the vanilla on my tongue, and I feel a pang of guilt for the memory, and the reaction my body has decided to take down below. I uncomfortably shift in my seat as I look down at my plate, still piping hot, which lets me know that the memory had not played out in real time in my mind. Andrey removes his fingers from my face as my eyes begin to shift.
Andrey: Ground Control to David Shepherd. Are you with me?
Me: Yeah, I, um… I’m just feeling the effects of that crutch. Kris sure did a number on me.
Andrey: You need to be checked out? Or, perhaps you should take many shots of vodka until you feel right again.
Me: But, if I do that, I’ll just get shitfaced.
Andrey: My point exactly…
He laughs and smacks my shoulder before looking down to my full plate. He slides the garlic bread basket over to me.
Andrey: Now you eat. You will feel better in no time.
I twirl my fork in the pasta, and I take a bite just to appease Andrey. Though I don’t want to lose that lingering vanilla taste, I can’t help but fall into literally the best pasta I’ve ever tasted in my entire life. I quickly take another, and then another, before biting into the most tender and flavorful meatball I’ve ever had.
Me: Ahh, this is better than sex… Mmmmm…
Andrey: Somehow I doubt that, especially with your new beau. Looks like he can deliver a beating in all the right ways.
I don’t even acknowledge him as I continue to shove the food in my mouth. Halfway through the plate, I wave down the waiter as he is starting to pass by. I can barely take the time to break from the food to talk, but I somehow manage.
Me: Can I get two of these to-go? No, make it three…
The waiter smiles and nods, taking it down quickly on his order pad as he makes his way to the back. Andrey raises his eyebrows, regretting the offer to pay the tab. But my eyes look down to the now empty sorbetto bowl in front of him, and he gets it now.
Andrey: We must soon leave. I have early morning appointment with your boyfriend to spar so I can be ready for High Stakes. So unless we are getting shitfaced, we should probably return to hotel.
Me: He’s NOT my boyfriend. We’re not dating. None of that. I don’t have time for that, and I’ve minced it every possible way I can think of. We’re just… having fun.
Andrey: Yes, and me and your sister are just playing house. I get it.
I sneer at Andrey, who winks at me and finishes his last bite, while I still have much to go. Though, it will be no time before I finish as well. The waiter brings us the bill and lets us know that the to-go orders will be finished in no time. Andrey slaps down his card, and we finish the meal in silence, before he signs the slip and we are on our way with a plastic bag of three heavy ass servings of spaghetti and meatballs.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
(https://64.media.tumblr.com/a70fcc2a367b4dd89424d79f05f56399/tumblr_n8h3raOlqt1tgy3u1o1_250.gifv)
Revelations (Part 11)
GYM NYC of Mulberry Street; New York City, NY 10/26/2021
Inside of the gym, several people are seen running on treadmills, while others set to enhance their arms, lifting deadweights. Others slowly work out their chests, or legs, on the appropriate machines. Meanwhile, we can see a padded area off in the corner of the dark grey concrete and steel interior. On this padded area, SCU Combat Champion Andrey Azarov and former World Heavyweight Champion, Fenris, are in their fighting gear. Fenris has arm pads, and he is taking several hard hits from Andrey. Kicks and punches, all in rapid succession, with great form. Fenris barely catches the last kick with his pads as Andrey breaks from being in “the zone”. He takes a break and walks over to a nearby bench and picks up a water bottle, spraying himself in the face with it as it drips down his bare chest. Fenris catches his breath.
Fenris: You took a little too much time to think about stopping. You must have the control to stop, just as much as the control to land your strike.
Andrey nods his head, taking another sip of his water. Meanwhile, in the front row of treadmills, you can see me, with Aron Baltasarsson and Dani Weston, getting in their our workouts to prepare for High Stakes XI. I am is shirtless, drawing much attention from some of the other gym goers, but I’m a bit oblivious to it, as their eyes follow each trickle of sweat going down my smooth, bare chest. They also try to pay attention to the movement inside of hmy gym shorts. Even Dani is caught taking a gander at one point. Aron’s machine goes off, and soon after, so does Dani’s. I keep going for nearly a minute longer before my machine shuts off as well. Aron has approached with spray bottles of sanitizer and paper towels as he sprays down his machine and Dani’s. The two wipe down the machines as I catch my breath.
Dani: Somebody is taking Caleb Storms a little too seriously.
I close his eyes and rub at my temples, shaking off a hard night of play.
Aron: Or maybe he’s trying to compete with my brother for “best legs in the business”.
Dani: It would be “best everything in the business”.
Me: I don’t even care about that. Dani’s right. I’m focusing too much on Caleb. The fact that I tanked so hard against Kris last Sunday, and the fact that Caleb actually has a win over me… I think I might be doubting myself.
Dani and Aron gasp in sarcasm as they look over at me, wiping down my machine. I can’t help but shoot them a look that says “Fuck off”. Aron takes the spray bottle back to where it belongs as I look at Dani.
Me: I know I come off as confident…
Dani: More like cocky as fuck.
She’s not wrong, so I shrug and get back to finishing up on the machine. I begin to walk over toward the leg press machines.
Me: But, I just don’t see it happening for me this time. Not unless I really take this match seriously. More seriously than I have taken a match so far in my career.
Aron approaches once more.
Aron: I think I am going to head over to the ellipticals.
Dani: I think leg presses are in order for this girl. I’m going to need them to shove this boot as far up Mikah’s righteous ass as possible.
I give Dani a grin, and then I remember why I was starting to like this one. We go over to the presses, and we each take one. I set mine to 100lb resistance, and she sets hers to 75lb. I give another nod of approval as we take our spots on the machines, and begin our sets.
Dani: Look, I’m taking on someone as intimidating as Mikah, a Hall of Famer, longest reigning World Bombshell Champion, and most over bitch in SCW history. If I can do that with no fears, no doubts, then you should be able to as well.
I never really thought of it that way. Was I making much more out of this than I should have? Was I just waiting for the other boot to drop, like I do with everything in my life? Sure, my career has not been perfect up until now, but I’m a former champion, damnit. I’m quickly becoming a household name. Not a legend, but a well known competitor.
Me: You’re right. I can’t sit here and get in my head about this all. It’s how I completely choked when I faced Kris last Sunday. I have to do what is best for me. I owe it to myself to go the distance on this one. It’s not like I didn’t earn my chance to face Caleb by beating down that pompous piece of shit, Brayden Hilton.
Dani is getting into pumping the weights, even though I can tell that she’s listening. She’s focused on what she’s doing more so than trying to speak.
Me: Caleb Storms is a different beast though. In one way, I respect the kid. He found a way to con someone into giving him the very title we’re fighting for. How exactly does one do that? Quick title matches are one thing, but to be handed a title is just… chef’s kiss. Respect.
I struggle with the last of my third set, but I extend my legs out and hold it there as the muscles in my legs bulge out, showing extreme definition.
Me: Now, I’m not going to sit here and say that you didn’t earn the title back. I mean, you were given the title some time ago, and you surely haven’t had that many successful defenses. Not with the likes of Agostino Romano on the roster. You found a way to weasel your way back into the picture. And even more surprisingly, you found a way to win the damn belt. Congratulations, Caleb. A round of applause for you.
I see Dani crack a bit of a smile as she continues on with her sets. I lower the press, as my knees are nearly against my chest. I feel Fenris looking over to appreciate the sight, which leads to Andrey accidentally hitting him in the face. I go on to start another set.
Me: Just like it took three tries to actually find the courage to stand up and challenge Fenris. And, how exactly did that turn out? No, let’s go back a few paces here. You literally ran away from him. Ran away screaming. You practically shit yourself when the name “Fenris” was mentioned. I have had my time in the ring with Fenris, and I may not have been victorious, but I certainly never ran away. That is the most disgusting thing I’ve ever seen in wrestling, and it’s saying a lot, considering where I came from, and who my father is, and what I used to do. I feel shame for a lot of those actions. But crying like a little bitch and ducking challenges is the ultimate offense. Couple that with accepting a title that was literally handed over to you without even having to compete in a match? J2H couldn’t even get inside of the ring with you, lay down, and put you over to show some small amount of respect to you? What? Were you just the nearest person to him when he decided he didn’t want the Internet Championship?
I strain a little, letting me know that I’m coming close to my limit. Though, I can’t decide if it’s from the topic at hand, or the intense leg and ass workout.
Me: Needless to say, after all of the greatness that has touched that belt of yours, you’ve managed to make it mean fuck all. You’ve found a way to make people take it less seriously than an SCU title. You’ve tarnished the reputation of that belt just by being the one to hold it. I have to admit that I’m almost regretting even trying to participate in this match. I should have just rolled over and let a Hilton beat me, because even that is somehow less embarrassing than holding that belt above my head like it were some sort of worthy prize. But, I'll tell you what. I’ll take that belt, and I’ll make it mean something. Even if only for a little while. I’ll defend it against the best that SCW has to offer, and undoubtedly, that will not include you. I’ll make sure that people never equate that belt to you ever again. It will be equated to greatness once High Stakes XI comes to pass.
I now know it’s time to rest the legs, even as Dani continues to go. I pick up my towel and wipe at my forehead. I take a drink from the water bottle near me, and then look back to the camera.
Me: Forget your delusions of grandeur, Caleb. Ignore that nagging desire to brag about having a win over me from Supernova 4. Take off your rose tinted glasses and look at things for what they are. Your win was because of me voluntarily walking away, refusing to participate in a farce of a match where I was not given a fair shake from the very beginning. Don’t look at it as some sort of monumental achievement, because, truth be told, it was nothing more than a gift to you. Nothing to be proud of. But, then again, you do seem to have a habit of taking gifts and trying to pass them off as achievements. Just know that the season of giving is not right now. Right now, it is about taking, and I plan on doing just that with your title come High Stakes XI. From then on, it will be known as my title.
Suddenly, Dani startles me from behind as she taps me with a bottle of sanitizer. I stand up and begin spraying down the machine, and wiping it up with paper towels nearby.
Dani: Go get’em, tiger.
Me: There’s no doubt in my mind about that one, Dani.
And with that, I size up the distance to the trashcan nearby, and I prop my arms up high, shooting the paper towel, and seeing it land right in the trashcan, nothing but net… er, bag… That is when Dani and I rejoin Aron at the bench for cool water, and the viewing party in front of us, Fenris and Andrey circling each other.
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/5e/94/89/5e9489d9a5a2543c4f61c5ca2c65c592.gif)
Who Invited You?
Rockefeller Center; Manhattan, NY 11/4/2021
It was a crisp Thursday morning, and I decided that a nice run was in order. Little did I realize that it would turn into some sightseeing, and distancing myself further than intended from the hotel I’m staying at. I found myself looking up at the Rockefeller Center building. It took me a moment to figure out where I was at, but once I did, I reveled in the sight. It was enormous, majestic, and really brought about a sense of unity with all of the flags flying out front. I could get lost in the cool wind flapping through the flags of so many nations. I put my hands behind my head as I adjust my breathing on the way over to a bench. I take a seat and catch my breath before I can hear the girlish giggling approaching. Great, a few fans who are into my boyish good looks, who probably want a photograph with me…
Nope. I would be so lucky. Instead, what do I find but two young ladies approaching in colorful clothing. Of course, it doesn’t dawn on me until they get much closer, exactly who they are. They open up their jackets, pretending to not see me there. The GRIME Tag Team Championships give away their identity quickly before they come over and sit on my lap. Winter Elemental on my right leg, and Tatsu Ikeda on my left. The Kawaii Dragons wrap their arms around me, and I’m at a complete loss for words.
Winter: David, it’s been so long since we’ve seen you around! Where have you been?
Tatsu: Oh, silly Winter-san. We know he has been up in SCW, winning championships and forgetting about alllllllll the little people…. Bitches…
Winter does a facepalm and then lets out a “duh”. Tatsu smells my hair and then quivers.
Tatsu: Smells like success!
Winter: That’s just Old Spice and sweat.
Tatsu: Same thing, yes? He he.
I know, it’s fun and all, hearing them patronize me, but I’m just not feeling up to it this morning. I start to stand up, and they move along with me, giving me all of six inches of space. I sigh and look down at the shortest chicks on either roster.
Me: Fancy running into you two here. Now, mind telling me what the fuck is happening here? We’ve never been friends. Hell, if anything, we’ve warred over those title belts you’re wearing. We took them off of you at one point.
Tatsu: Brother David take things off of Kawaii Dragons? I thought he liked boys, just like Uncle Dax…
Winter: From what I’ve heard, he and Dax took things off of each other all of the time before he was “Uncle Dax”.
Tatsu pouts her lips out, and now things have gotten uncomfortable. I back away from them and shake my head.
Me: Well, it’s been real, but I’ve never hit a woman before, and I’m not about to start now. So, if you’ll excuse me…
Tatsu and Winter smirk at each other, but they walk with me as I start to move away. Somehow, they corral me toward the ice skating rink. Winter hugs onto me and Tatsu lets me know that I’m not going anywhere. We get to the ticket booth and Winter leans in, putting her arms on the counter.
Winter: Three please!
She pays for entry, and they get their ice skates. This is not the weirdest thing that has happened to me since coming to New York, so I decided to just go with it for a minute longer. I got my skates and we went over to a bench to get laced up. Granted, I’m not in the best attire for such a situation, a pair of z grey sweatpants, sweatshirt, and jacket. I make my way over to the rink as the two waddle right past me. They grab hands and begin spinning around, almost like pros, while I waddle into the rink, slipping a bit until I find my footing. I begin moving in a straight line, taking notice of the fact that we’re amongst the very few on the rink at this hour. I see the two off on their own, and I get acquainted with the motion.
I can’t help but think about Fenris, and how it might be nice to move on the ice together, holding hands. I quickly ask myself why I’m thinking like this, even though I know the answer. My brother-in-law and sister, and Fenris’ own brother pointed out in no certain terms that me and Fenris are dating. Couples do this sort of thing. But… do we? Would he do something like this? Has he done something like this? Would he laugh at the very idea? Certainly he would. It is too cheesy, reminding me of a Lifetime Christmas movie. But, is that so bad, in all honesty? Maybe I should invite him. Maybe I shouldn’t.
While I’m lost in thought, I don’t see the two Kawaii Dragons rushing up beside me. They each take an arm and begin spinning around in a circle as we move along.
Me: Hey! I’m… I’m not so sure about this.
Winter: Isn’t this exciting? Don’t you want to have fun?
Me: I was just out for a morning run! I didn’t intend on doing this. And I still don’t even know how this happened! Or why it’s happening!
Tatsu: That’s all part of fun, Brother David. You need to let loose and stop being caught up in whatever it is on your mind.
Me: But…
I’m getting dizzy from the spinning. But, I can’t deny that it does tussle with something very childlike within me. Dare I even say that a smile creeps upon my face. I’ve spent so much time being uptight that I never stopped to think about why I deny myself such pleasures in life. Is it to appease my father, even though we haven’t spoken in nearly four months? Is it because “that’s what a grown up does”? Is it to promote some sort of macho man act to make people see me a certain way? Acting like I don’t care, when really, I care too much?
Winter: Pull the stick out of your ass for like two minutes and just go with it. Free yourself and get lost in the moment.
They let me go, and I’m faced with two options. One, I stop and go right to the edge of the rink, grab hold of the railing, and make my way to the exit. Or two, continue on with the motion, and spin free. As appealing as option one is, option two is just too exhilarating to not do. I feel like a small tornado is surrounding me, but there is a calming peace at seeing everything spin around me. I hold my arms out at my side until I feel like stopping… and then I keep going.
Tatsu: He did it. He let go, Winter-san.
Winter: Damn right he did.
I stop spinning too quickly, and then I spin out and fall right on my ass. Winter and Tatsu chuckle as they come over to put their hands out to me. I grab on as they help me up to my feet. I brush myself off, feeling the slight ache in my backside and my hips, but it is quickly fading. I shake my head as the redness of embarrassment enters my cheeks.
Me: Why did you two even make me do this?
Tatsu: Oh, stop asking questions. Does it really matter?
Me: Yes! Yes it does. There’s a reason for everything that happens in life. You don’t just see some random person on the street and think “Hey, wouldn’t it be fun to take them ice skating?”
Winter: You don’t? Huh…
Winter thinks about it, and Tatsu matches her with a confused look. They eye each other up for a second suspiciously.
Me: No! It’s not normal. And, if I were more awake than I was when you two approached me and practically sexually assaulted me, I would’ve pushed you two off of me and walked away. You’re fucking weird. Everything you do is fucking weird. You run around with rhinos and a drunk, washed up musician, and a midget. You’re not fucking normal!
Winter and Tatsu look at me as if I were trying to explain the square root of pi down to the decimal. Not so much confused. More unfazed. They nod their heads to show that they are listening and that they understand, but the words are not cutting them like knives as intended.
Winter: Yes. That’s all true. But, why does that anger you? Is it because you wouldn’t know a good time if it slapped you across the face?
Tatsu: This is true. Sometimes having fun is scary. Sometimes doing what you want to do isn’t easy. Worst part is prison built around oneself by oneself.
Me: That’s some real fortune cookie shit right there. Do you feel better now? You made an ass of me. You accomplished what you came to do. I hope you are happy with yourselves.
Winter and Tatsu nod their heads.
Winter: We are. But, we didn’t come to embarrass you. We saw someone lonely sitting on a bench and we decided to include them in a fun activity.
Me: I wasn’t lonely.
Tatsu: Face said otherwise, David-san.
I want to argue, but I really can’t. Instead, I start to head toward the railing, storming off in a huff, but they follow me. I pretend not to notice at first.
Me: No need to end the Kawaii Dragons On Ice show on my account.
Winter: Oh, this isn’t about you, sourpuss. This is us going to get hot chocolate with extra marshmallows. Or, do we need your approval first?
Tatsu: Yeah… bitches…
Something about that did sound delightful. I waddle over to the small concession stand and order three to pay them back for the tickets in some small way. I start to walk off with my cup, having not even taken a sip yet, but they are halfway finished with theirs.
Me: What is this, a contest?
Tatsu: No, we have own contests to worry about in few days. Winter and Tatsu have to beat 2 Broke Chick’s asses again, and you have title to take from Caleb-san.
Winter: Both things will be happening. Someone who is just given a title belt can hardly be a challenge. Just like the watered down gangster wannabe version of us. Imposters!
Tatsu: Yeah, emo Stitch looking bitch version of Tatsu no good. Fakkyou Roppongi bishhhhhh…
Tatsu does this certain swagger that is just spot on for Chi Chi, while Winter grins ear to ear. She then gets this stone cold bitch look on her face and begins walking around.
Winter: Don’t you dare look at my retarded wife and make fun of her, or I’m going to wait until you turn your back and smack you with a baseball bat like you were a drag queen. Don’t test me.
It’s almost spot on. I can’t help but half grin as they seem to cheer me up instantly. I even offer them a light laugh. It was all the approval that they needed. They high five one another and then they look at me expectantly.
Me: What?
Tatsu: Um, now you do impression. Is very therapeutic.
They both nod quickly. I shake my head, because I’m not about to go there. Except that it took no more than that one little gesture to get me there. Tatsu unhooks her GRIME Tag Team Championship belt and puts it on my shoulder.
Me: Oh my atheist belief system, someone just gave me a title?! This is the greatest day of my life! Now, I’m going to be one half of the GRIME Tag Team Champions until next November, regardless of how many times I lose on my first defense! Surely no one will just give me a title twice in a lifetime, so I have to wait for the first opportunity to catch someone off guard to take advantage of a situation. I mean, if nothing else, I can be a professional transitional champion for the rest of my career. And I’m shameless enough to accept that fate.
Tatsu and Winter are practically squealing. Tatsu sprays a mist of hot chocolate, choking on it while Winter claps for me, egging me on further.
Me: And then… then! I will walk around and talk out of my ass like I am some sort of walking unintentional comedy act. An unaware punchline, and punching bag, because I’ve rotted my mind with flavor of the month metal band after shitty flavor of the month metal band. I know it makes me an edgelord, but who doesn’t love a good neckbeard? You’ve never heard of the bands I listen to, and that’s literally my entire personality. As a matter of fact, the reason I can only win titles by finding and exposing a kink in someone’s armor, and not because of my skills, is because I’m far too concerned with the latest metal band. It makes me both different and better than the rest of you.
Tatsu is practically wheezing with laughter as Winter claps her hands for my performance. But, I’m not done yet. I’ve just begun, I feel.
Me: That’s why I don’t bother to do even the slightest bit of research about my opponents. Sure, it causes me to get my ass kicked more often than not, but at least I’m cool and edgy, right? I mean, I’m literally putting on a blindfold going up against some of the bigs and bads of SCW. The only thing I can see is the light at the end of some imaginary tunnel where I’m the latest and greatest thing to enter the scene in SCW. What? Even a broken clock is right twice a day…
Winter slaps my arm, a bit of a wheezing mess herself, slobbering from laughter.
Winter: Sss… stop, man. Let us catch our fucking breath for a minute. I mean, if we weren’t looking right at you, we’d swear Caleb Storms was standing right in front of us.
Tatsu: Yes. David-san should be actor on TV. Is very good at impersonations.
Me: I’m done impersonating. I’m not some basement dwelling narcissist. My narcissism is right there at the surface, and I’m not afraid to admit it. Do I give a shit about Caleb Storms? Not particularly. He could fall off the face of the earth, and I wouldn’t be one of the people mourning the loss. Do I feel like tuning in to hear anything he has to say? No, because it’s uneducated bullshit. Do I want to give him even an iota of my effort and energy? Fuck no. I’d rather be in bed with my boyfriend, dating partner, whatever is going on there. That wrestling match between the bedposts is far more challenging than Caleb Fucking Storms inside of the six sided circle. But, there’s a difference. I actually bother to educate myself on every opponent.
Tatsu and Winter join me at a table, drinking their cocoa and listening to me shoot the shit to the camera.
Me: Big or small, I always dig a little deeper. That’s right. Even though I don’t want to, I research ALL of my opposition. As boring and generic as they might be, I take the time. And do you want to know why? Because I’m not an idiot, and I don’t want to sound like one. See, last week, Caleb had some strong words about me. Kudos, once upon a time, he saw my name and associated it with my time in SCU as a member of The Church of the Good Shepherds. Good work, Einstein. A friend told you all about that. Just like a very special friend of mine told me a story about you pissing your pants when you had to go up against them. Twice. You all but soaked through your tights at the mere mention of Fenris. I get it. I quiver when I hear his voice too, but that’s for a different reason. While he’s busy piledriving you inside of the ring, he’s busy piledriving me in the bedroom, and I swear he takes away my ability to walk for a day.
Tatsu looks confused, and Winter leans over to explain it for her. Tatsu’s eyes widen, and then she nods, waiting for me to continue as she snickers under her breath.
Me: But, in all seriousness, you heard a snippet of my past and decided that it was all I am and ever will be. Despite endless promotion of my Church of Heathens, my publicly making out with a man that you revere like a living God, telling the pious motherfuckers associated with my dad, hanging out with my loser of a sister, hell, even my ability to sit here with these two dipshits and not Superkick the dollar store makeup off of their faces, is all proof that I’m not that person anymore, and haven’t been for quite a long time. Further proof that you don’t deserve the title hanging on your shoulder. I mean, aside from the fact that you can’t wrestle your way out of a paper bag unless someone gives you a roadmap. But that was so obvious, I didn’t need to emphasize it. Truth is, kiddo, your reign is just like your last reign, and any reign you may have with any other title. It’s going to be over before it well and truly begins. I am just glad that I get to be the bearer of bad news. It’s almost like I’m being handed the title, except I had to earn my shot, and I am subjected to hearing the garble of what is supposed to be words of wisdom and insults coming from your mouth, while peppering my name into your generic hogwash. So, I’ve more than earned this, which is far more than you will ever get to say about yourself, Caleb.
I take a sip from my cocoa as Tatsu and Winter lick at the foam from the lid, biding their time until I’m finished so they can get more.
Me: I’m not going to take up too much more time talking about something that is just as important as a knob on a wall, holding a title that I want. So, come Sunday, I hope that Caleb has someone to console him once I take the only thing making him matter at the moment. He’s going to need a shoulder to cry on, and a new goal in life, because as long as I’m the Internet Champion, he doesn’t stand a fucking chance. Sunday, the internet will have something better to talk about than it’s former champion, and it will be thanking me for that. It’s a shame that neither of us believes in God, because that just means that there is no one to have mercy on his soul, because I damn sure won’t hesitate to crush it. But, let me wrap things up here, because I’ve honestly spent too much camera time giving attention to you, Caleb. Enjoy your last few days as champion, because, just like your last Internet Championship reign, it’s going to be over before you know it. See you on Sunday.
And just like that, I stand up to buy another round of hot cocoa for us. The two ladies with me cheer me on as if I were their very lord and savior, and I can’t help but enjoy the moment before shooing the camera away.