Sunday - July 28, 2024 -
Port of Los Angeles
The activity from the Port of Los Angeles had been hectic since just after sunrise at 6:05 AM. Vessels from the world over had both arrived at dock for passengers to disembark for recreation or having arrived at their chosen destination - while others were making their final preparations to launch to begin their own grand adventures on the Pacific. One such vessel was the Sun Princess, who in the coming week, would play hostess for the twelfth year to not just the stars of Sin City Wrestling, but also those lucky members of the SCW Universe that would be attending Summer XXXTreme XII on the open water!
Nearly one thousand employees worked the port keeping each and every cruise ship running smoothly as they awaited the arrival of the oncoming passengers of which many had arrived early. Porters efficiently took hold of the baggage brought and stacked them onto carts so that they could be checked in and delivered to the assigned rooms and suites aboard. Security was stationed on all corners of the port to ensure the safety of all while leaving themselves open to being approached, should any passenger have any questions or concerns. And maintenance had been busy at work from sunup to current, inspecting every aspect of the ship for safety. All the better to get on the ship and settled in their cabins without delay. Nearly three thousand guests total were expected to board, counting both SCW stars and staff alike alongside those aforementioned fans. Which was a reason why many thought ahead and had already arrived, all the better to quickly get their luggage checked and get to the front of the line to board the ship to get settled for what would hopefully make for a memorable event.
Two who had thought ahead as such - well, more like one while the second was just brought along for the ride, were about to arrive at this early hour as a taxi pulled into the nearby parking lot for the port and as the driver stepped out to assist with the luggage, the rear doors opened and out emerged the newly married couple of Miles and Carter, both of whom elected to take their partner’s last name as their own. Miles, a morning person by nature, appeared refreshed and ready for what the day would bring - while Carter, who was anything BUT a morning person, seemed almost surly by comparison.
All of the luggage was unloaded from the trunk, quickly and efficiently by the cab driver with Miles lending a hand. A driver was about to assist in bringing the luggage to the port to be checked in, but Miles held up a hand with a genuine smile to indicate that he and Carter had this well in hand. Tipping the middle aged man generously as was Miles's nature, he and Carter gathered up everything they brought and wheeled the entirety along. Miles's arms remained full while Carter expertly used one hand to wheel the luggage cart behind him while his free hand held tightly to that mighty cup of java that Miles had purchased for him. Miles knew his husband well enough to know what would work best to not only get him out of bed, but to get his proverbial motor running. It just so happened that this morning was proving a bit more difficult than normal.
“Did we really to get here this early?” Carter asked, almost dropping the luggage to the ground while they waited for the porters who busied themselves with the luggage of the passengers in front. “The ship doesn’t even set until noon! We could have slept in a couple more hours!”
“It’s nice to know married life hasn't changed that cheery, morning disposition that I fell in love with.” Miles quipped, the smile evident on his face as his husband’s own eyes narrowed at him from over the rim of his coffee cup. Miles then asked, “And even if we can't get on board yet, you know as well as I do that the bosses wanted everyone here as early as possible. See?”
Miles pointed around, indicating that they were far from being the only SCW star or staff who was present. He followed up by taking his life into his own hands, removing the cup of coffee from Carter's hand so he could take a sip himself, “We're not the only ones here. And besides… I'm just as exhausted as you are. And it's entirely your fault.”
“How is it my fault!?” Carter questioned, snatching the coffee back out of Miles's hand.
Miles answered, “I suggested we get to bed extra early to arrive here in time.”
“We did!” Carter shot back, only for Miles to answer in kind, “Yeah but we didn't get to sleep for three hours after that.”
Miles then leaned in and whispered into his husband's ear, “Not that I'm complaining, mind you.” Earning a self-satisfied smile from Carter, “I guess not! You fell asleep on top of me!”
Followed by a murmur, “Best comforter on the market.”
Of course there was a minimum of three hours between our heroes’ arrival and when boarding would finally commence. Needless to say, we’re not about to bore you with the minute details. Needless to say as soon as the fans attending this cruise started arriving, the sight of their favorite Superstars and Bombshells was enough to cause an impromptu meet n greet on the port itself with young and old approaching the men and women who put their bodies on the line for photo ops and autographs. This in itself caused a congestion in the boarding process to the point that the LA Port security had to step in and bring it to an end and get everyone back in line so that they might board in a safe and orderly fashion.
Once onboard the Sun Princess, Miles and Carter went about locating their cabin, their eyes shifting between their assigned suite ticket and the numbers along the walls by the closed doors. They weaved in between fellow passengers and cruise staff alike, pausing only long enough to ask once or twice for directions until they finally arrived at their assigned cabin door. Miles, as was his nature, took the lead and slid the key card to unlock the door and he stepped aside to let Carter enter first, and once they set foot inside, they were brought to a complete halt by their surroundings. Whatever the two of them had been expecting, this far exceeded everything they had imagined. In lieu of a regular cabin or even a mini suite, they found themselves standing in the honeymoon suite of the ship, the size of a small hotel room. Their luggage had already been brought within and was set up against the walls, allowing them to make their way further inside and inspect their surroundings. The teal and gold plush carpeting of the room matched the drapery that hung over the port window as well as the sliding patio doors that led out to a private balcony. The bedroom was set opposite a small living area, complete with round table, sofa and wall-mounted flat screen television and a bathroom that looked comparatively the same size as a small cabin.
“Miles…” Carter, jaw agape, turned back around to face his equally perplexed husband, and he asked, “Are you sure this is the right room?” To which Miles could only answer by holding up the key card in his fingers, indicating that it worked so this had to be it.
“Not that I’m complaining but… Wow…” Carter was looking everywhere, and he even then noticed the bottle of champagne in an ice bucket on the center of the table with two towels folded into the shape of kissing swans. Carter turned back around to Miles and the smaller man stepped in closer and snaked his arms around Miles’s waist, drawing him in closer.
“You know, sometimes I don’t think it’s hit me entirely…”
“What's that?” Miles asked.
“We’re married.” Carter replied, shaking his head but the pearly white smile on his face was self-evident at how thrilling this past week had been. “We’re actually married.”
Carter leaned up and Miles took that as his cue and he gave as good as he received with the impending kiss. It lingered for several long moments, threatening to take Carter’s very breath away. Miles shifted his legs forward, effectively backing his husband up toward the bed for potentially more clandestine activities when anything else more fun-related to pre-honeymoon activities was interrupted by the resounding knock on their door. They pulled apart, both sporting equally disappointed expressions on their faces.
“I suppose we should get that.” Miles sighed, to which Carter questioned, “Why? We were just getting to the good part.”
Miles smirked, but pulled away nevertheless, resulting in a pouting Carter. Miles walked across the suite to open the door and there stood none other than the Co-Owner of Sin City Wrestling, Christian Underwood.
“Thanks, I’d love to come in.” Christian said nonchalantly, stepping inside and having a look around before noticing the slightly disheveled appearance of both of his Superstars. He asked, “Am I interrupting anything?”
“No, we were just standing around waiting for you to show up.” Carter answered with his natural sauciness, to which Miles deflected by asking, “Something we can do for you?”
“Actually, I came here to deliver these.” Carter answered, holding out manilla envelopes toward both men separately. Both Carter and Miles accepted and Carter asked, “What’s this?”
“The usual itinerary we give you every year.” Christian said. “You have the first two days for yourselves but it is a working vacation after all, so we assigned you both some activities with the fans.”
“What sort of activities?” Miles asked, a raised brow as he slid the papers inside out of his so he could have a quick look. He knew Christian all too well and was naturally suspicious of the man ever since the “piranha incident”.
“Oh you know, the usual.” Christian answered with that smirk of his. “Fan meets. Photo ops and interviews. Some together, some on your own. … Newlywed Game…”
“Say what?” Carter asked, but by then the boss man had made his way to the door and opened it to take his leave and continue distributing the itineraries to everyone else. He turned around and smiled, but this time it was genuine. He said, “Plus, I wanted to get a look at the suite we had reserved for the two of you.”
This caused Miles and Carter to share a bewildered look before looking back to the boss who was typically thought of as the “bad cop” between Mark Ward ands himself.
“You reserved the room for us?” Carter asked, to which Christian just nodded, “Consider it a wedding gift from Mark and myself.”
He then took his leave and was about to close the door entirely when he opened it up again just enough to peek through and add, “But don’t let word get out! I have a reputation to maintain!” And shut the door behind him.
Sun Princess - The Eatery
If there was one thing that many passengers on not just this cruise but any cruise looked forward to, it was the dining experience. And the food here on the Sun Princess was no exception. There were, in fact, more than one dining establishment on this ship, including the three-tier level main dining hall. This was preferred by many for the late hour dining but when it came to breakfast and lunch - or really anything else between - the Eatery, served as a more laid back and casual buffet experience.
In fact, the ship had set sail two hours prior and many onboard had converged to one of the dining rooms to grab a bite to eat before they made the most of soaking up the sun, go swimming or - as far as the fans were concerned - hunting down a Bombshell/Superstar or two to chat, take pictures - whatever!
Carter himself was actually right here in the buffet line with two full plates in hand, but conspicuous by his absence was his new husband, Miles. It was almost comical by how much Carter was having piled onto the plates in hand - one, presumably, for his hubby; Belgium waffles, omelets, sausages and the obligatory bacon. By the looks of it, he was going to have to ask for a hand back to his table before he could even grab coffee - when his best friend Ariana came hurrying up to him in line, a most uncharacteristic look of worry on her face.
“Carter!” Ariana said as she glanced back over her shoulder before returning her attention to him. “Where’s Miles?”
“Probably still asleep in our suite.” He answered nonchalantly. “He asked me to bring him back a plate. Why?”
“Hey babe.” A familiar voice came from behind and Carter turned around, thinking Miles had decided to come have breakfast in person but just as he turned, he realizes there was no British accent behind those honeyed words and the moment he saw who was standing there with a smarmy smile on his face, his stomach about plummeted to his feet and he came ever so close to dropping the two plates that he held in his hands.
Lazarus.
“Laz…” Carter whispered, and Ari bit at her thumbnail. She had caught sight of her bestie’s abusive ex not more than twenty minutes ago in the crowd and had hurried to warn him and Miles but she had arrived only seconds too late.
“Maybe I should…” Go get Miles was what Ariana was about to say, but Carter pushed one of the heaping plates in her hand and shook his head, “No.” He stopped her from getting his husband for one reason only. He knew what Miles would do if he found out Lazarus was onboard this ship.
“Ari,” Lazarus smiled in her direction, and the sight was enough to make her stomach go sour. It was like a snake attempting to be charming. As if he thought everything he had done to Carter, all of the mental and physical abuse, had never happened. Lazarus asked, “Could you excuse us?”
“Maybe I should…” Ariana said, to which Carter finally yielded with a nod. He knew his best friend well enough by now to know she herself was this close to attacking Lazarus for everything he had done in the past, and he took the plate from her and she took her leave.
Carter turned back to his ex and shook his head, “What are you doing here?”
“What?” Lazarus poured on the charm with that smile of his and stepped closer, prompting Carter to take an instinctive step back. Lazarus asked, “Is it so unbelievable I’d want to take part in this fancy cruise of yours?”
Carter scoffed, “You’ve never taken an interest in wrestling a day in your life!”
“No.” Laz conceded. “But I have taken an interest in you.” And this statement only caused Carter to do a double take and he frowned.
“Seriously?” Carter sneered. “It’s been two - years, Laz! In fact, the last time I saw you, you tried to sue me!”
“For beating me up and costing me five modeling gigs.” Lazarus pointed out, to which Carter said, “Because you put your hands on my Grandmother. You’re lucky I didn’t do worse!”
“Whatever.” Lazarus rolled his eyes as if Carter’s admonishing of him was the most ludicrous act imaginable. He sighed and that smile returned, taking another step forward, “That’s all water under the bridge. You and I had a good thing going until your friends got involved. I thought, you know… maybe we could get a drink? Catch up on old times?” One step closer. “Have some fun…?”
“Save it.” Carter stated roughly, setting the plates in hand aside and he held up his left hand in his ex’s face, giving him a closeup view of both rings on his finger. Lazarus stared and it took a moment to process until things clicked.
“You’re married?” Lazarus said, a mocking tone of disbelief in his voice. “You?”
“What can I say?” Carter shrugged his shoulders, matching his smile with one of his own. “I upgraded since we saw each other last.”
Lazarus just shook his head in disbelief before he ultimately asked, “Who is it?”
“None of your business.” Carter answered back defiantly, before he yielded, knowing the answer would do more harm to his ex than not knowing. “Miles.” Lazarus’s otherwise handsome face slid into an expression that could best be described as cold and ugly. Carter could not help himself but to add, “And why would I ever settle for pot roast again after tasting kobe beef?”
Lazarus laughed derisively, “Come on, Carter. You talk but it was all bad. We had some good times.”
“Oh, right!” Carter looked upward in thought. “Remind me again about those good times? Were they the ones where you beat me so bloody that my own family didn't recognize me? Or the time you beat me to the floor and raped me?”
“Watch your mouth.” Lazarus said with dangerous intent, not taking any form of insult likely. And perhaps misunderstanding that their old relationship hierarchy yet stood. “I’d hate to go to your bosses and get you fired for that smart mouth.”
Carter just stared at the man before he snorted back a laugh. The smile was anything but cheery as he shook his head and took a moment to compose himself before he shook his head and said, “Do you seriously think that you can still intimidate me, Laz? I mean, at all? Especially by threatening to tattle on me to my bosses? Which, when you think about it, only goes to show how little you know about this business I'm in. Especially when one of my bosses has turned being a bitch into an art form and the other is extremely protective of the men and women he's responsible for?”
This time it was Carter, not Lazarus, who stepped closer and Lazarus taking a step back, knowing now things had indeed changed. Carter whispered, “If I were you, I'd be smart for the first time in my left and skedaddle. Because if I know my Ari - and I do - then she is fast on her way to get Miles.”
Carter turned and picked both his and Miles’s plates back up and started to take his leave, pausing just long enough to lean in and whisper in Lazarus’s ear with as much sarcasm as he could muster, “It was good seeing you again.” And he walked right past Lazarus, leaving him all alone and watching him vanish into the crowd.
The door to an office setting opened up and Helluva Bottom Carter, who in a matter of days would be challenging for the Internet Championship at Summer XXXTreme XII, entered. He was dressed in a tasteful and tan tweed suit with his hair slicked back and thick rimmed glasses worn over his eyes. Carrying a clipboard in hand, he carefully walked across the hardwood floor of his office, passing a couch where a mannequin, dressed in coveralls and a Xerox copy of the face of Internet Champion Peter Vaughn taped to its head.
“Pardon me a moment, Mister Vaughn…”Dr Carter drew up a chair close to the sofa and had a seat. He crossed his ankle over his knee and smiled down at his “patient”.
“I'm sorry I'm late but I got here as soon as I wanted to. Now, where did we leave off from our last session?”He starts to rifle through the papers on his clipboard and smiles with satisfaction, nodding.
“Ah yes! We were discussing your career and how your recent actions have tarnished it.” Setting the pen back down on the clipboard and resting it on his lap, Dr Carter folded his hands together, interlacing his fingers, and looked down with much sympathy toward his “patient”.
“While I am greatly in favor of the direct method, I thought we'd start this session a little bit differently if you don't mind? And discuss not only your actions, but maybe how history has had its effect on you and allowed you to think that taking the shortcut was a perfectly normal and acceptable thing to do. And if you don't mind, I thought perhaps we could take part in some comparative therapy? In doing so, we can visit some instances in other sports where individuals also took the shortcut en route to success. Thus way I can show you that your actions aren't so unique nor special. And truthfully? Neither are you.”Dr. Carter, eyes closed and nodding with sympathy, reached over and patted his patient on the hand.
“I know. It's easier to say than it is to hear, but that is one of the risks of therapy.”
“Now then, are you familiar with the basketball controversy between Russia and America in the 1972 Olympics? It was no small secret that Russia wanted to win fifty gold medals to commemorate the anniversary of the Soviet Union. The Soviets stacked their team with professionals while designating them as soldiers to get past their own “no professionals’ rule while at the same time, crippling the American team under the same conditional rules. Among other flagrant violations, the last three seconds of the game was restarted multiple times until the Russian team was able to score the winning basket. Cementing one of the worst controversies in Olympic history.”Dr. Carter looked over the rim of his glasses toward his patient.
“See? Compared to that, you're not so bad.”
“Even the NFL has not been without controversy over the last fifteen to twenty years. In the 2007 season, the New England Patriots videotaped the defensive signals of the New York Jets which was found to be a gross violation of the rules.”
“However it is in my professional opinion that the worst example of cheating in sports within 1983 when professional boxer Luis Resto removed an ounce of the padding from his gloves, replacing it with chalk, allowing him to brutalize and defeat the undefeated Billy Collins Jr. Billy's injuries were so severe that he lost partial sight in his eyes and his boxing career was ended. There is speculation that this was the catalyst that led to Billy ending his life prematurely.”Dr. Carter looked down at his patient and smiled.
“You see? Compared to that, you're relatively meaningless.”
“Now I think the fascinating question is not the who's not the how's but the why's. Why did these and countless other athletes attempt to cheat their ways to victory? There are, of course, your typical sociological cliche answers. Anything from those self-esteem to the desire to get ahead of others. In sports, money and fame is a motive. As is prestige. Some might run circles around themselves by cheating to prove how smart they are when in fact, it proves the exact opposite. Some cheap simply because it makes things easy. But where you're concerned, dear?”Dr. Carter looked to his patient and shook his head, clucking his tongue.
“You're short.”He shrugged.
“I'm sorry! I simply don't know how else to say it. Average height for a professional wrestler is between 5 '10 and 6 ft 4. You, my dear, are clearly below average and it has affected you psychologically. It's a psychological fact that people, mainly men, who are of short stature, possess an overly aggressive or domineering demeanor. Your attitude to win at all costs, along with your recent actions, is all the evidence that I need to prove you not guilty – but in desperate need of help. That's where I come in here, and I am thankful that you decided to come to me. It's probably one of the few smart decisions that you've made recently in life.”
“You know, now that I think about it, having you as a subject raises a very interesting point. In most sports when someone is caught cheating, they face severe repercussions. Fines. Suspensions. Some are even banned for life and forced to return whatever prizes or awards that they had won due to their unscrupulous methods. The aforementioned Luis Resto? He was imprisoned because of his criminal actions. However in professional wrestling? This is the only sport where the government isn't involved where cheaters are not only allowed to get away with their actions, but are allowed to prosper. You don't have your championships taken away or victories from the records. No, if anything you're just handed more opportunities.”Dr Christian uncrossed his ankle from his knee and slowly removed his glasses. He cast aside the clipboard onto the coffee table nearby and drew in a deep breath.
“I was truly hoping that trying to deal deeply enough into your mind might give me some semblance of how you can be helped. But the simple truth is, I cannot help somebody who doesn't want to be. Everything that you said as of late, doesn't scream ‘Help me!’. It mocks the very profession that we are in and has told me you feel absolutely no shame.”He shrugged, staring straight ahead at the wall.
“So be it. I can see you out of a place of caring, wanting to remove the tool around your waist that has only served to make you think lower and lower each time you stepped inside of the Ring. But if you want to just continue acting like a male Karen who does nothing but play the victim card and continuously talk out of his ass, well then we're going to have to abandon this subterfuge and simply fight. Tooth and claw.”
“That's fine Peter. More than mine actually. Everything that you've said, all that you've done, you've proven only one thing by all of that bullshit. And that is a simple fact that you're looking past me already. And that's not an insult to me. It actually works in my favor better than you can imagine. You think I'm some sad little victim that you're going to take advantage of inside of the ring? Sweet pea, I seriously cannot wait to see the look on your face when you find just how wrong you are. I've had too many people already - too many - who have made that same mistake and the only thing I left behind inside of that ring with them was excuses. Excuses for why they lost. Excuses for how I could have done to them what they suffered. You don't live the life I lived, young as I am, without knowing how to fight.”
“And yes, Peter. I will give you full props for your track record of success at my expense. I admit it. In four matches, you've had my number. But I want you to tell the full story. I want you to acknowledge that in my big return that you talked about and in that mixed tag team match, there really wasn't anything at stake. I lost in front of my dad, that stung. I admit it. And losing with Ariana as my partner wasn't how I wanted that match to go but it also didn't move you forward or hold me back.”He leaned forward, is right forearm rested against his knee.
“And as for those last two matches? The tag team match and the ladder match?”He shook his head.
“Neither time did you straight up beat me. That's just where you continued with your outlook of winning at all costs. You had to cheat to win that title around your waist. You had to drug me to get that pinfall against me in the tag team match. And you never would have won that briefcase had it not been for that masked lunatic blinding me. That's not something you can dispute unless you really have something negative going on up here!”He tapped the forefinger to his temple.
“I find it amusing at best that throughout this entire ordeal between us, you question my intelligence in attacking you. As if it hasn’t brought me to where I wanted to go all along. True, I could have issued you a challenge but I found my own methods to be much more effective. And, not to toot my own horn but … toot toot! It was me getting under your skin, not the other way around and I don’t think you know how to handle that. By my own estimation, it’s gotten me exactly what I want so how was it a dumb thing to do on my part? Oh! I get it… that was your way of warning me, or some sad attempt at intimidation. Well, allow me to tell you Peter that the only mistake I ever made where you’re concerned was when you revealed to the world that you wore that outfit due to your janitorial roots. And here all this time I just thought you were a garbage man.”
“You don’t scare me in the slightest, Peter. You’d do better to climb back into your Keebler house and make the locker room some cookies than try to make me fear you. I’ve been inside of the ring with ENIGMA. I’ve been in the ring with Michael Harris - THAT Michael Harris - both men who are above and beyond anything you’re capable of when it comes to intimidation factors! And them I beat!”He shook his head and slowly forced his way to his feet.
“I’m sorry, Peter. You can’t be helped. Only humbled.”He looked down toward his patient one final time.
“Feel free to remain until the weekend is over.”He turned his back and made his exit, one final statement to be made.
“That is when our session comes to an end.”
