Post by Mr. PerpetuaLynch Motion on May 16, 2015 16:07:41 GMT -5
Part 1: The Phone Call
*Buzzzzzz…. Buzzzzzz…. Buzzzzzzzz*
”Gone Guru” by Lifeseeker starts blaring from my phone, doubling for my alarm, meaning it’s time to get up. I picked the song because I’m a heavy sleeper that needs a particularly abrasive sound to wake me up. The only thought going through my head at this time is “I f*cking hate mornings.” But I roll to the side and put my feet on the ground, burying my head in my hands to try and wipe the sleep away. Raising my head I glance around my room. It’s a dingy bachelor suite in a crapty apartment complex smack in the middle of downtown Detroit which, oddly enough, is probably the safest part of the city. I used to live just off 8 Mile but after I got my job at the bar I decided to move closer so as to not have to walk quite as far. I walk everywhere. What’s the point of owning a car when it’s just going to get broken into anyways? I look across the room at the wall opposite my bed where a poster of the 2008 Stanley Cup Champion Detroit Red Wings is hung. As downright crapty as this city seems sometimes, at least we can always look to the Detroit Red Wings as a source of something to cheer for. The Tigers aren’t awful either I suppose. Getting up from my bed I walk over to my dresser at the opposite end of the room and pull out a T-shirt with “Detroit Vs. Everybody” on the front. I pull the T-shirt on and toss a pair of sweat pants into my gym bag sitting on the floor by the door. I grab my iPod off the top of the dresser and grab my keys and head out the door. In the hallway there is a guy pounding an apartment door pleading to be let in, apologizing to whoever is on the other side saying “it will never happen again”. This kind of stuff just becomes part of the din in my building so I pop in my earbuds and put on some Ted Nugent. Nothing gets me quite as ready to get a good workout going than the Motor City Madman. The walk to the gym has improved over the last several years as the city has made steps towards revitalizing the Downtown core. It’s almost to the point where the walk to the gym is a pleasant one. I even receive warm greetings from a couple of older folks that I pass on my way that see me every day. It’s comforting to know that decent people exist. Most people don’t tend to give me the time of day, typically because I have a very imposing frame and in this city it’s usually best to give no one the benefit of the doubt. I arrive to the gym and sign the “check in” clip board. I work out at this gym to avoid dealing with the hyper competitive douchebag gym rats. I’m at a point where I no longer train to get bigger, I train for function. My place of work requires me to have a certain amount of agility on top of being a stronger guy. After finishing a set on the leg press, I look up and see my boss from the bar, Kevin. A lot of people don’t tend to like their bosses but Kevin is fine by me. I respect him because he gave me a job when no one else would. He respects me because I am good at my job keeping scumbags from ruining his business. I lock the press at the top position and get up to chat with him.
Hey Kev, how’s it going?
Oh you know, could always be worse.
Yeah I’m hearing you on that one
There was almost a sort of tension and awkwardness with Kevin that is never usually there when I speak with him.
Is everything alright?
Not really to be honest with you man.
Why? What happened Kev?
Kevin just shakes his head and shrugs his shoulders. He lets out a sigh, knowing that I would just keep pressing him for an answer.
There’s talks of them shutting down the bar.
What? Well… Why is this? I thought business was really good.
Someone got stabbed outside the place last night. They’re saying that the bar breeds a negative atmosphere downtown. F*cking bullcrap right? I can’t lose this bar man. It’s the only thing I have to look forward to every day.
You’re not going to lose the bar Kev. It’s the first time something like this has happened in years. You’re place is probably the safest bar in downtown Detroit.
I know that Luke. I’ve tried telling everyone that.
Who is everyone Kev? Have you been giving interviews to the media about this?
I had to! They were calling and I wanted to let them know that there isn’t a safety issue with the bar. I told them we have the best bouncers in the city. I told them about you, about how since we hired you 5 years ago that there has been next to no violence inside or outside my place.
And what did they say?
They asked me why I hire convicts to be my bouncers.
We both let that hang in the air for several moments. Kevin knows what a sore spot my jail time is with me. But it’s also not something that I ever hide from. You can’t hide from it, it’s impossible especially when trying to get hired somewhere. I let out a sigh and put my hand on his shoulder.
Don’t worry about it. We’re going to be fine alright? But I have to go. I’m gonna try to get some sleep before I have to come in tonight. You take it easy, alright? I’ll see you later.
I shake his hand as I turn to walk away. I sign the check out on the clip board and head back home. Getting back to the building, the man in the hallway of my apartment isn’t there anymore but I hear shouting coming from inside the suite. They must be reconciling. I hear “You’re a real piece of sh*t” at least 3 times before I get the key turned and enter my apartment. I toss my gym bag back on the floor beside my dresser. I set the alarm on my phone for about 6:00 p.m. and drift off to sleep almost immediately.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Buzzzzzz…… Buzzzzzzz…… Buzzzzzz…..
Being woken up by an alarm at six in the evening is borderline criminal. I roll out of bed the same way I did this morning filled with loathing. I just want to sleep. But it’s time to head to work. I pull my Security polo shirt from the dresser and pull it on. I grab my leather duster jacket and pull on my skull cap and head out the door. At the suite door where earlier the fine gentleman was making a ruckus now sits the same gentleman passed out leaning against the wall passed out with a bottle of whiskey sitting beside him. I can’t help but laugh at the wonderful, wonderful people that inhabit this world. The bar I work at sits on the corner of the block and as I approached it I could see a mass of humanity crowding around the front. Not in a line as would be on a traditional Friday night but this was a crowd fueled by hysteria. I look to the left of the crowd and see a News van. I quicken up the pace and hurry my way through the crowd. When I get to the front of the crowd I stop because it’s as though I’ve seen a ghost. There standing before me is local news field reporter and my ex-girlfriend Amy Sanders. I hadn’t seen Amy in about six years, since before I went to prison. It gave her a pretty easy out of the relationship. But I don’t harbor any resentment to her whatsoever. I catch her glance over at me but quickly she glances back to look at the camera as she begins her news report.
I’m standing outside of Big Kev’s Tap and Grill where last night during an altercation an individual in his 20’s was stabbed and is now in stable condition. However last night’s bout of violence continues to throw fire on the flames on the continuance of weapons related violence outside of downtown bars and night clubs. Joining me right now is the head bouncer of Big Kev’s Tap and Grill, Lucas Crowe.
I look at her completely taken off guard as she grabs me by the lapel of my jacket and pulls me beside her. I stand there looking like a giant buffoon. She stares at me with a face as cold as stone. I’ve seen the face before, she’s all business.
Lucas, first off how long have you been working here at Big Kev’s Tap and Grill?
It takes me what seems like an eternity to register the question. Then it takes me what seems like a million years to find the answer to her question.
Umm. I guess it would be about five years or so now. Yeah that sounds abo-
She cuts me off
And what was your occupation before that?
An easy one this time as I start to feel more open
I mean it’s been a while since I had a job before this one but I was a boxer.
And how long ago was that?
I mean… I guess it was probably about seven years ago.
So there is about a year gap in between the two. What were you doing in between that?
I feel the temperature in my blood begin to rise. I stop short of seething. The expression on her face doesn’t change. A cold f*cking journalist. A cold hard bitch like I remember her always being.
I guess I should re-phrase the question.
I had half the mind to turn and walk away but that would make me a coward dodging questions. I’ve never dodged questions about my past.
Is it true that Kevin Clarkson, the owner of this establishment, exclusively hires ex-convicts to do security for him? I mean wouldn’t you say this hiring practice just encourages violence and crime in the area?
I don’t even make an effort to answer the question. I don’t even find myself looking at the camera anymore. I instead find myself staring a hole right into Amy as she looks back at me, still cold as ice. This woman was someone I used to care about deeply but now she treats me as just another story and on top of that, she has the temerity to draw out my past live on the news. There is a strong part of my being that would love to hit her but that person doesn’t live inside me. Not anymore anyways. No sooner did I finally decide I intended to answer her question, some jackass in the crowd standing right behind me yells “F*ck her right in the p*ssy!” Without thinking I turned around and punched the fool right in the stomach. I didn’t even care that the camera was still rolling, this as*hole was going to get what was coming to him. He doubled over. Immediately everyone else around us took about three steps back. I shot a double leg takedown on the guy with all my body weight landing on top of him. Then with a quickness that a man my size has no right possessing, I rolled the guy over and locked in a rear naked choke that I had recently learned how to do. I figured it would be a helpful technique to dispose of belligerent drunks but this guy is just going to have to be the test subject. I feel the man go limp so I decide to let go of the hold. I get to my feet and look around. Amy is standing there with a particularly disapproving look on her face. The crowd looked collectively shocked. I look down at the guy who starts to stir and smile. I point at him and look at Amy
I suppose this little incident answers your question now doesn’t it?
As I turn away from the camera and start towards the front doors of the bar I don’t even have to fight through the crowd. They part like the Red Sea. I don’t like being “this guy”, as a matter of fact I kind of hate it. But it’s how I make my living and I get paid decently to do it. I head up the steps and open the front door of the bar and Kevin is standing right there. Usually when I dispose of unruly patrons like that, he’s all smiles talking about how badass it was but this time he has a particularly disapproving look on his face. As a matter of fact, he looked downright pissed off.
What the actual f*ck Luke? That was being broadcast live. It made us look worse. You just look like some god damn thug convict and how do you think that makes me look?
I grab Kevin by the collar of his shirt and I feel his soul leap from his body as I stare into his eyes. I don’t know what’s come over me but there is an unbridled rage rising inside me, I can feel it.
I would say it makes you look like an owner of a bar who employs people who give a crap about the safety of the patrons here. That’s why you hired me is it not?
Kevin doesn’t say a word; he’s never seen this side of me first hand. He shakes his head yes and I let go of his shirt collar. I look into his eyes and see something I never wanted to see in any of my friends: fear. He was scared and I immediately snapped back into reality.
I’m sorry Kev, I hate that you had to see me like that but it’s how I get.
Kevin still says nothing; he just shakes his head and pats me on the shoulder. He gives me a half smile that almost indicated forgiveness but there is a tension in the air now.
I’m gonna go see if the bar staff need any help with anything before we open up the doors alright?
Yea, sure thing man.
I pat him on the back and head to the bar to talk to Tony, the bartender. He complimented me on the sweet execution of the choke and gives me a high five. I ask him if he needs help with anything to which he jokes that he needs self-defence training. I laugh it off and head into the kitchen. The crew in the kitchen tells me they’re all good so I head to my post at the entrance to the bar. Kevin unlocks the door as a couple people file in and find seats along the bar. An older guy with a Red Wings jersey on asks if I think the Wings were going to pull it out tonight. I tell him hell yeah I do and give him a high five. About an hour into my shift, Kevin comes up to me.
Hey man, there’s a phone call for you on the office phone.
This was strange. None of my friends or family ever called me at work. If they needed to talk to me they always just came down to the bar to chat. I ask Kevin if he’s alright to watch the door for a bit then. He gives me the old “get out of here” nod so I get up and head to the back of the bar where Kevin’s office is. I pick up the phone.
Hello?
Hello, is this Lucas Crowe?
Yeah, who is this?
Not important right now. You said you were a former boxer, correct?
This guy was clearly just watching the news. I take a minute to decide if I want to hang up or not. I decide against it.
Yeah that’s right.
Where on earth does a boxer learn both a double leg takedown and a rear-naked choke like that.
Depends on who wants to know.
A man with a lot of money that is prepared to make you a very, very rich man.
I’ve never been a guy to strive to be particularly well off but I guess that’s just because I never figured it to be a possibility given everything I’ve done in my life.
The double leg takedown is from amateur wrestling school.
When were you an amateur wrestler?
Why do you have so many questions?
There is a silence on the other end of the phone. I guess it's a pretty harmless question.
High School. I was one of the top wrestlers at my school.
When did you stop pursuing it?
I’d say about the same I stopped pursuing education as a whole.
I see. And the choke, Where was that picked up from?
There’s a local Mixed Martial Arts gym by my place. I figured it would be a good tool to have in my arsenal given my occupation.
It’s going to be an excellent tool to have in your arsenal in your new occupation.
What on earth are you talking about?
You are going to be my… Apprentice let’s say.
An apprentice in what.
No I don’t like that word. Let’s call you my mercenary. I’m going to pay you to do what I never could.
And prey tell what would that be?
I am going to pay you to take over the WFWF. One championship at a time until you get to the top.
This took me by surprise. Professional wrestling? Why would some mystery man that supposedly has enough money to pay me handsomely want me to take over a professional wrestling company.
… Who is this?
I have booked you a flight to come meet me in Florida. You depart at 8:00 am on Saturday. I will meet you at the airport. We’ll discuss this further then.
*Click!*
The man on the other end of the phone hung up leaving me completely dumbfounded. I look around at Kevin’s office and see a picture of him and I with our arms around each other’s shoulder. This seems like such a gamble, I could be risking my life because some stranger, who refused to tell me who he was, promised to pay me to basically be a mercenary for him. This all seems so strange. There is only one man whose opinion I can trust in this situation though and that’s Kevin. I approach him up at the front of the bar. He stops me before I can speak
I know the look on your face. You’re going to ask me for advice on something.
Kevin has been the closest thing to a best friend I’ve had since I got out of prison so it should come as no shock to me that he can read me like a book.
Look, the guy gave me the run through of why he wanted to speak to you. I wouldn’t have had you talk to the guy if I didn’t think it was a good idea.
It’s a huge gamble here Kev.
Sometimes you have to jump on a gamble.
Do you think the bar will be alright without me?
He stops and looks like he hadn’t thought about that part. But then he flashes me a smile which puts me at ease
Yeah man, we’ll be fine. You need to stop worrying about everyone else and do what’s good for you.
I have no words so I simply muster a smile. I go to shake Kevin’s hand but he instead reels me in for a hug. He pulls back and gives me the “get out of here” gesture again. I open the front door, turn the corner and begin the walk home. I have to pack for a flight.
Part 2: The Meeting
I hate flying. Even though the flight was only about two and a half hours, that’s about two and a half hours more than I cared to be in the air for. Whoever the guy was that booked my flight has spared no expense to make this meeting happen, booking me into first class. To say a fellow of my upbringing was unaccustomed to the kind of treatment first passengers receive would probably be the biggest understatement ever made. However I could not wait to depart from the airplane so as soon as the doors opened I grabbed my carry-on bag in which I packed all of my gym gear into and exited as quickly as possible. When I got to the arrivals part of the airport, there was a man with a placard that had “Crowe” written on it. The man was wearing a powder blue suit and had long hair and dark black Ray-Ban sunglasses on. I walked up to him; he asked me if I was Lucas Crowe. I told him I was. This guy wasn’t the guy I spoke with on the phone; he had a fairly gruff voice. The man I spoke to on the phone had a much smoother voice. He asked me to follow him. For some reason I was starting to regret my decision to leave Detroit. I figured he was leading me to some sort of hit or something. Crazy but that’s where a person’s mind races to in these situations. I tried my best to push those thoughts out of my mind. Soon enough we reached a long black stretch limousine that was parked outside at the arrivals terminal. The suited gentleman instructed me to get in to which I nervously obliged. The man closed the door behind me and circled around the back and down the driver’s side. The suited gentlemen, it turns out, was the limo driver. It wasn’t until well after the fact that I noticed a gentleman sitting in the back of the limousine with me. This man seemed kind of strange; he was wearing a purple suit and had his feet up on the seat across from him. This guy had long brown hair that brushed his shoulders and a fedora rested on the top of his head. He had in his hand what appeared to be a martini of some sort. After several moments the guy turned to me and began sizing me up. After a while a smirk comes over his face.
Ahh. You’re a big one.
There was no doubt in my mind that this was the guy I spoke with on the phone.
Yeah, thanks. Name is –
I know the name sir. Mr. Lucas Crowe. The Motor City Mercenary is what they will be calling you soon enough.
I actually quite liked the sound of that. I am a huge Ted Nugent fan so a nickname that is close to as badass as the Motor City Madman’s is alright with me. For a moment there I was distracted by the thought of the nickname but snapped back to my focus.
Alright sir, with all due respect, I flew about twelve hundred miles for this meeting so I think it’s only fair that I know your name.
But of course! Where are my manners? Lucas Crowe, my name is Justin Donald Timothy. Timothy is spelled with a “Y” in place of the “I”.
Well Mr. Timothy
Justin inhales sharply and puts a finger up as though to stop me.
Please, no one calls me Mr. Timothy. I would much prefer it if you called me by my former ring name.
Alright, no problem. What was your former ring name sir?
He looks at me with a sly grin.
Tyme. Mr. Justin Tyme. But please, we’ll have time to get to know each other more at my abode. For now, no more questions. Just enjoy the view.
That’s a name I had vaguely heard before. Justin leans forward in his seat as and waves for me to lean in closer too as though he’s got a secret to tell me
So can I count you in on this Lucas?
As I sit there, I expected more thoughts to be running through my head. However at this time the only thought in my head was to say yes.
Absolutely. When do I start?
Justin Tyme sits back in his seat and smiles his sly grin. Any other person would be unsettled by the sight of the man. He looks like a greasy car salesman but had the aura that only a successful millionaire could put off. He tosses a folder onto my lap.
We’ve already begun.
Part 3: Mission 1: Tag Team Championships
I crack open the folder and inside it are 3 photos, a DVD in a paper sleeve and a brief write-up on a blank piece of paper. I toss the photos on the seat beside me as I begin reading.
On May 16th, 2015 the WFWF will commence a tournament to determine the next holders of the presumably vacant WFWF Tag Team Championships. I have taken the liberty of throwing you name into that hat already to get you a Tag Team partner for said tournament. Your partner’s name is Johnny Hess (see: picture #1). Your opponents in the first round of the tournament is a team comprised of Jon Gotch (see: picture #2) and Axel Thornstowe (see: picture #3). Your tag team partner, Mr. Hess, is a brawler type of competitor which should mesh with how I plan on using you in the WFWF. You will, however be able to catch your opponents off guard. Jon Gotch is a technician, he prides himself on being able to outwork his opponents on the mat. Your size alone should be able to mitigate his style as you have over a foot in height advantage and about a 90 (ninety) pound weight advantage. If he tries to outwrestle you it should be no problem for you to simply overpower him. You’re other opponent, Mr. Thornstowe, is an unpredictable brawler. It’s hard to gauge a strategy when watching him compete. However, like his tag team partner, he is at a considerable size disadvantage. Not to mention that trying to brawl with an ex-boxer such as you is likely to not end well for him. Attached in this file is a DVD of 3 matches from each other person involved in this match (including your Tag Team partner as insurance) Study the matches well. Signed: Justin D. Tyme
Upon finishing reading the note I take a glance at the 3 pictures that were in the file. I quite like the look of my assigned Tag Team partner.
So what do you think Lucas?
I look up from the folder and I can’t help but smile at the question.
What do I think? Well there are a lot of thoughts running through my head.
Well start with the first thought.
Well for starters this looks like it could be the easiest pay day I’ve ever had in my life.
I can see Justin’s smile on his face grow even bigger. The driver of the limo takes a left turn and we now appear to be heading down a long, winding driveway.
I mean, I’ve never needed any help from anyone ever in any fight I’ve ever been involved with so this is certainly going to be an adjustment.
Don’t look at him as a partner fighting beside you. Imagine him more as an associate helping you reach the end goal of the Tag Team Championships.
Why do you have me starting with the Tag Team Championship?
Because the Tag Team scene just so happened to have an opening. I was in a very similar spot as you. I was tethered to an associate and together we managed to win the WFWF Tag Team Championship years ago. It was my first championship that I won here in the company.
I almost feel bad for the two other guys. I mean, I look at these two guys in the picture and they are just… how are they expected to stack up against two guys the size of me and Hess?
They aren’t. There is no universe where anyone would expect those two guys to stack up against you by yourself, let alone you with another colossal human being as well. It’s pretty much like lambs to the slaughter for your first match here. I hope you’re hungry Lucas.
I’m hungry to prove that I’m worth the investment to you Mr. Tyme.
Justin leans over and slaps me on the shoulder.
That’s all well and good my friend. But I wasn’t referring to that. I was referring to dinner. I would like to invite you to join me for a bite to eat and after that we can go over your strategy for the match.
Thank you very much sir but with all due respect, I can run through my strategy for the match with you right now. You saw what I can do. Quite simply it won’t be a match at all. It’s going to be a one sided beating. If you don’t mind me indulging you right now, I will tell you exactly what is going to happen and I don’t even need to study this DVD to tell you that I’m more than capable of doing it.
I grab the DVD and slide it out of the paper sleeve. Holding it between my two hands, I snap it in half with ease. Justin’s smile is practically ear to ear at this point.
What is going to happen first is I’m going to punch Axel Thornstowe in the jaw so hard he’s going to wish that he will be eating through a tube for months. Then I’m going to grab Mr. Gotch and I’m going to manhandle him around the ring. I’m going to toy with him for a bit. And when I’m good and ready, and you give me the go ahead to end it, I will slap on that rear naked choke and he is going to be out faster than he can say “He Gotch’d me”.
Justin was now laughing almost to the point of hysteria. He starts slapping his knee and it looked like he had tears streaming down his face. Finally after composing himself, he looked me dead in the eye with his sly smile from ear to ear and stuck out his hand.
Well sh*t. I knew damn well that I made the right choice with you. You’re one of a kind kid and together we’re going to make you a very rich man and make me even richer than I already am.
I look forward to it sir. Now how about instead of talking match strategy over dinner, we talk about just how much money you’re willing to put into play.
But of course. Mi casa es su casa. And with that being said, welcome to Casa Del Tyme
The chauffeur opened the door to the limousine and there staring me in the face was a sight of nothing but pure house. Justin Tyme’s incredible sprawling mansion served to prove what I was already hoping; he wasn’t lying about having an abundance of wealth. Justin put his hand on my shoulder and ushered me towards the gigantic front door of his mansion. As it closed behind me I was confident that I had definitely made the right move in my life.
ed. I cant figure out why it's not showing orange, green and purple. And I ran out of patience trying to figure it out. Hopefully my next RP i can take the time to figure it out.
