Post by King Richius on Dec 9, 2018 16:59:16 GMT -5
Prologue: What happen in Vegas…
Las Vegas, NV : Nov. 24, 2018 : GFL 175
We join the action in between matches, the camera focused on GFL announcers Joe Thomas Wayne and retired fighter David Columbo. JTW is providing his usual hype for the special 15th Anniversary show being held in Las Vegas as part of International Fight Week.
It’s been a great night for the Guerrilla Fighting League on its 15th Anniversary. Seven matches down and each one was incredible, whether it was a technical display or a slugfest. We’ve seen tap outs and knock outs. Best of all, not a single match went to the judges. Every fighter came to win tonight.
Up next is the main event where the up and coming insane Irishman Lenny McTavish takes on Alessandro Bogota, the Brazilian Jiu-jitsu master who has owned the light heavyweight division for almost a decade.
The camera switches to a crowd shot, zooming in on the familiar face of GFL owner Sammy Kendall and his special guest for the evening, WFWF International Champion and former GFL contender Frank Lynn. Columbo provides commentary for the shot.
There’s Sammy, looking so very proud… and deservedly so… of the GFL on this spectacular night. And he is joined by former GFL fighter Frank Lynn. This could have been Frank’s night if he hadn’t left the GFL to wrestle in the WFWF. Personally I would have liked to see what he could do in the octagon with few more fights under his belt but you can’t knock the man for jumping ship. He’s done quite well for himself in the WFWF where he is the current International Champion.
The camera switches back to the commentators. JTW takes over, once again pumping the hype to eleven.
We all have to follow our own path in life and Frank’s led him to success elsewhere. Let’s not get distracted from one of the most highly anticipated main events in GFL history. McTavish has been running his mouth for months now telling everybody that HE is the man who can end Bogota’s decade of dominance in the most competitive division in the GFL. Bogota has been more vocal than usual in responding to the irascible Irishman, providing more than his fair share of trash talk as well. It’s put up or shut up time!
The camera pans around the arena until it centers on the challenger making his entrance to an Irish metal rap song. Immediately after, the reigning champ enters to a Spanish rap song with a catchy guitar riff. Both fighters stop during their entrances to smile at Sammy and glare at Frank Lynn, who stands up and lets them know if they want some he’s not going anywhere. Sammy grabs Frank by the shoulder and pulls him back into his seat, a smile on his face as he sees dollar signs. Frank Lynn facing off against Bogota and McTavish will be all over the internet tomorrow accompanied by countless crazy rumors about an imminent return to the GFL.
Both fighters go through the pre-fight check and enter the octagon. Then the most famous voice in all of combat sports, Michael Duffer, steps into the spotlight to make the introductions.
Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the 15th Anniversary GFL show. It’s time for the MAIN EVENT of the evening, a five round bout to decide the GFL Light Heavyweight Champion of the World!
Are you ready to ruuuuuuuuuuuummmmmmmmmmmmm…
WFWF Event Horizon RP
Behind the Mask
featuring Frank Lynn
“Accursed creator! Why did you form a monster so hideous that even you turned from me in disgust?”
― Mary Shelley
Las Vegas, NV : November 24, 2018 : GFL 175
Hitting the Jackpot
…bbbbbbbbbbbllllllllleeeeeee?!?!?!
Finally, Duffer completes his famous phrase “Are you ready to rumble?” He stretched it out so long that I could have gone to the rest room AND the concession stand without missing anything. Oh well, it’s all part of the show… just a part I could do without. Duffer is milking his fifteen seconds of fame for all its worth when the spotlight should be squarely on the two fighters about to go to war over the GFW Light Heavyweight title.
Sammy taps me on the shoulder to be sure he has my attention, then points at the fighters in the octagon.
That could have been you in there Frank.
I’d like to think so but we won’t ever know, will we?
Sammy shrugs. I know he was disappointed when I didn’t renew my contract and instead chose to sign with the WFWF. He loves MMA so much that he couldn’t quite understand how unhappy I was as an MMA fighter.
Just because you’re good at something doesn’t mean that is what you should do with your life. I’m much better off in the WFWF where I can truly be me. As boring as I seem compared to charismatic superstars like Drakz or Mesh, I have enough showman in me to never be happy with one fight every three months or so that has a high chance to end up being two grown men rolling around on the mat for three rounds so a bunch of unqualified judges can pick a winner based on who had the better octagon control… whatever the hell octagon control is. It’s so damn subjective and annoying. Really f***ing annoying.
I much prefer the objective nature of a WFWF match with no time limits and the winner is decided by a clear cut pin fall or submission. Doesn’t hurt that I can do a little high flying when the time is right. You don’t see anybody doing a five star frog splash in the GFL. Maybe if I could I wouldn’t have left.
I have a good eye for talent and you were one of the best I’ve ever seen. I have no doubt you would’ve become a champion in the GFL.
Well, I became a WFWF champion instead.
Sammy smiles, one of his genuine I’m happy for you smiles, not the fake smile he delivers in interviews or to potential business partners that he is trying to butter up. I feel a little pride that he regards me so highly and also shame that I let him down. This is the man who gave me my big break and I turned my back on him.
Both feelings pass quickly as I know I had to do what was right for me. Besides, Sammy is always finding good fighters to keep the GFL on top of the world of MMA. Look at this McTavish guy. He’s a virtual gold mine for Sammy. The GFL has higher ratings and revenues than the WFWF so he is doing just fine without me.
You sure did but what took you so long?
A friendly jibe delivered with a wink of his eye that I take in stride.
The WFWF isn’t run the same as the GFL. There’s a lot more to getting a title fight than simply winning your way up the rankings. Hell, there aren’t even rankings in the WFWF. Just Lila Sleater’s favorites and not-so-favorites.
Ah, Lila Sleater. Just between you and me, I can’t stand her. She’s a real bitch at times.
Oh really? Sammy is not too fond of Lila Sleater. That’s very interesting. Not the impression I got from seeing them being all chummy chummy after a WFWF show a few months back, the night Lila decided to blackmail me into being “her good little soldier”.
As much as I want to enjoy the match, this is something I have to explore further. I need to find out if Lila overplayed her hand, that perhaps she was bluffing and I fell for it.
Really? I thought you and Lila had a good working relationship, seeing how you both like to scout the other’s organization for top prospects.
That’s only half true. Lila definitely likes to steal away MMA fighters to fill her roster. I’ve seen the WFWF and honestly, outside of you, there is nobody I would want in the GFL.
Sammy looks me square in the face and cocks an eyebrow at my surprised reaction.
Come on Frank? Can you imagine someone like Ante Whitner or Tyler Draven in a GFL match? It would be a sh*t show resulting in an immediate disqualification and suspension. The GFW would be the laughingstock of the MMA world if we featured those no talent idiots. I run a legitimate combat sport promotion, not a circus freak show.
It feels weird to hear Sammy saying the same things I said a year ago when I was leading a revolution to revamp the WFWF into something respectable. I always thought I was reacting to and mimicking Joe Bishop and Josh Dean but maybe it went deeper than that. Maybe I was Sammy’s emissary to the WFWF.
You know damn well I agree. I tried to change it but that ain’t happening. The WFWF makes its money being the king of over the top ultra-violence.
The action in the octagon picks up as McTavish lands a flurry of punches to Bogota and then takes him down to the mat. We both join the rest of the fans in cheering for the action. When it slows down, I resume talking to Sammy, trying to broach the subject of my departure from the GFL.
So, do you talk often with Lila? She made it sound like you two are best buddies trading notes on a daily basis.
Nope. I try to avoid her as much as possible. She makes my skin crawl.
But you do talk?
Yes, maybe once a month. Usually she is feeling me out for fighters who are coming to the end of their contracts. It’s a competition to her. She takes great joy in signing away any of my top fighters.
That’s my opening.
Like me?
Sammy frowns.
Like you.
Sorry. Had to do what I had to do.
It’s not like I didn’t see it coming.
Because I tore up the locker room after my match with that amateur wrestler kid who spent fifteen minutes rolling around on the mat refusing to actually fight and then got a bullsh*t split decision win?
Yeah, that fight left a mark. Only satisfaction I can get from it is that the kid lasted two more fights before a striker damn near knocked his head off in less than ten seconds. He got gun-shy and retired shortly after. Last I heard, he was running a WaWa in Philadelphia while training to be on American Ninja Warrior.
No, although that was a sign. Actually, I knew you would be leaving when I saw you wrestle in Legacy.
My jaw drops. Sammy knows? He knew all this time and never said anything?
Don’t look so shocked Frank. Anybody who watched as many of your GFL matches as I did knew you were that masked white tiger guy in Legacy. The way you executed your judo and submission moves gave it away.
You never said anything, never objected?
Why would I? You met all your obligations to the GFL. We don’t have an exclusivity clause in our contracts.
But I put my GFL fights at risk. I thought you would be livid.
In this business, fighters go down all the time to training injuries. If you got injured in a wrestling match it would be no different. We’d find another fighter to step in while you healed up. No big deal. It’s not like you failed a drug test. Now that would have pissed me off.
This is huge. Either Lila was bluffing or she doesn’t know Sammy as well as she thinks. Whatever the case, I feel a huge weight lifting off my shoulders. I don’t have to kiss Lila’s ass any more… and Daphne doesn’t have to shut up and shake her ass to keep the queen bitch happy.
Earth to Frank. You still there?
Yeah, I’m here. Just processing what you said. I thought if you found out about my wrestling in Legacy you would be mad, possibly sue me for breach of contract.
Sammy lets out a booming laugh that alarms some of the fans around us, but their attention quickly turns back to the octagon as Bogota makes a comeback against McTavish. Bogota almost submits him to a triangle choke but McTavish is saved by the bell.
Its obvious you’re not a lawyer. I couldn’t sue you even if I wanted to. And I don’t!
He claps me on the shoulder to emphasize the point.
You may not be fighting for me but what you’re doing in the WFWF is still good for the GFL.
This ought to be good. How exactly does a top prospect leaving the GFL do some good for the GFL?
There isn’t as much overlap between the WFWF and GFL audiences as some would believe so every time that Daniel Knight twit talks about you as ‘the former MMA fighter’, it gives free publicity to the GFL. We get a piece of their audience without having to do a damn thing.
I never thought about it that way.
Why would you? Running the GFL is my business, not yours. You just keep doing what you’re doing, winning championships and showing the WFWF fans that a real fighter can always beat those bar room brawlers. It’s a win/win situation for us both.
Son of a bitch! I’ve spent the past few months being afraid of Lila for nothing. My hatred for her grows.
I wonder if I’ve found an ally against Lila, one she has absolutely no power over. Let’s see how far I can go with this.
So you’re not fond of Lila. How would you like to beat her at her own game?
It’s Sammy’s turn to looked shocked. I don’t think he expected me to be playing mind games, particularly not with Lila Sleater. I’m pretty sure to him I’m just an above average fighter and not much more. Fighters don’t necessarily have the greatest reputation for being thinkers. If so then I’m glad I surprised him.
I think this about to get serious. We should probably discuss it later in private.
You have any plans for after the show?
I do now.
Sammy smiles. I smile. I love it when a plan comes together.
This may not have been the reason I came to Vegas but I feel like I just hit the jackpot.
Las Vegas, NV : November 26, 2018
I Do
The door to the penthouse suite opens with a bang, swinging wide and hitting the doorstop with a resounding thud.
Okay, maybe I overdid it when I kicked the door open but my hands were full and I’m pretty damn excited right now.
Excited to get out of this monkey suit. I hate suits. More than I hate Lila Sleater. I wore it for Sarah. That should tell all you need to know about how I much I love her.
Excited to get Sarah out of her tight white dress. She has lost all the baby weight and looks great in it but will look even better out of it.
Excited to consummate that which an Elvis impersonator made official less than an hour ago, even though said consummation actually happened over a year ago and we have the proof in little Laura, who is now back in Framingham with her grandparents and Doctor Claw while Sarah and I enjoy Las Vegas to the fullest.
That’s right boys and girls. Frank Lynn finally tied the knot with the love of his life Sarah Fairchild. We did it in style, in front of a bunch of strangers in various states of sobriety with the man Elvis Presley himself as master of ceremonies. Spur of the moment thing you know. Totally worth the $500.
I carry my bride to the bed and place her down gently, wrapping my arms around her and planting a big wet kiss on her before we separate.
Are you really cool with this? We just exchanged vows in front of Elvis.
Absolutely! You were the one who wanted a big wedding. I just wanted to hear you say ‘I do’ and put a ring on it.
She holds up her hand and admires the ring on her finger, her eyes shining as brightly as the rock adorning the ring.
You’re mine now and I’ll fight anybody who tries to get between us.
Who’s talking like a wrestler now?
You wanted a big church wedding, not me. I’m not sure why. Your mom can’t be here and your dad… the less said about him the better.
She snuggles in close and guides my hand to the zipper on the back of her dress.
Who did you want to put the show on for?
For you of course. You deserve the best.
She takes step back and lets her dress slide down her body to the floor. She jumps back into my arms and kisses me again.
I got the best. I got you.
Only a fool would argue with that. I’m no fool so I don’t.
As long as you’re happy, then I’m happy.
Sarah excuses herself to go to the bathroom and freshen up, hitting me with the classic ‘slipping into something more comfortable’ line.
As I remove the monkey suit, I notice a bouquet on a table that wasn’t there earlier today. We didn’t exactly announce our plans so who the hell are they from?
I check the card.
Congratulations! I wish I could be there. Maybe this will change your mind. Love, Your Father
What the f***? Is the crazy old man spying on me? I thought I made it clear when I left him sipping mimosas in his private jet. I don’t want anything to do with him.
And what does he mean ‘maybe this will change my mind’?
A check for $10k. That’s it. He’s gonna buy me? Sorry but I’m not for sale.
Who’s that from?
Sarah comes out of the bathroom. Her idea of ‘something more comfortable’ is nothing at all. I approve. I drop the card and check into the trash can, all thoughts of my old man discarded just as quickly.
Oh it’s from the hotel. The chapel must have called them with the good news.
She wraps herself around me, helping to remove what’s left of my suit.
I’ll smell them later. I want do what all good married couples do on their honeymoon.
She finishes with a girlish giggle. As for her sentiment, I agree wholeheartedly. So we do what all good couples do on their honeymoon. Several times. Be jealous. Wrestlers have great stamina.
* * *
Hours later, we’re still snuggling together in bed unable to sleep. Having fulfilled our marital duties and then some, reality slowly finds its way back into our thoughts.
How long do we have before I lose you to the WFWF again?
It’s not that bad, is it?
Don’t get me wrong. I don’t mind that you spend ten to twelve hours a day in the gym every day. You have to so you have a chance against men… against monsters like Tugarin Zmey.
That name sends a chill down my spine. Of all the wrestlers in the WFWF, he actually scares me. Seven foot tall. Four hundred pounds. The monster who beat Drakz. And a complete f*cking mystery to me. How do you read a silent giant who hides behind a mask and up ’til recently only did the bidding of resident psychopath Michael Kyzer?
I want you to come home to me. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, preferably in health and not sickness.
She turns over so we are face to face, her head propped on my arm while she playfully runs her fingers up and down my chest.
If that means I have to give you up to your training so you don’t die to a lunatic like Zmey, then that’s what I’ll do.
I have no plans to die in the ring. Wrestling doesn’t mean that much to me. You and Laura are more important than anything that happens in the ring.
I kiss her on her forehead, stroking her hair. Yep, this sure beats exchanging blows with Ante Whitner, Tyler Draven, or Tugarin Zmey. If I had to choose, it would be the easiest and quickest choice I’d ever make.
Don’t you worry. We have plenty of time for our honeymoon before I have to hit the gym. And nobody, not even Tugarin Zmey, is going to stop me from coming home to you and Laura.
I say it with as much confidence as I can muster. I hope it convinces Sarah because it doesn’t convince me.
For the first time in my WFWF career, I’m afraid of my opponent. It’s not a good feeling.
I get this flash of Sammy Kendall sitting next to me in the front row at the GFL Anniversary show, offering his point of view as we discussed Tugarin Zmey.
Bet you wish you were still in the GFL. There’s something to be said for weight classes.
Thanks for the insight Sammy. Now get out of my head so I can enjoy my wife’s company.
Doesn’t work as Zmey is all I can think about.
I’m going to need all the help I can get from Daphne when we get back home. I hope her head is in the game because she’s been busy with that ‘itch’ she wants to scratch. It’s obvious who the ‘itch’ is and I don’t get it. I just hope it doesn’t get in the way of Daphne getting me ready for Zmey. I don’t know if I can handle him alone.
Sarah and I finally fall asleep, arms and legs intertwined. My night is filled with dreams, some good ones of a long happy life with my family and some not so good ones filled with images of Tugarin Zmey ripping me limb from limb.
Framingham, MA : December 3, 2018
Priorities
The world would get good chuckle out of my current state but you know what?
F*** ‘em.
So what if I’m on all fours with a papoose on backwards so my baby girl can be in the saddle riding me like a horse around the living room while the cat chases the two of us. The happy baby sounds Laura is making mean more to me than the jeers of a thousand idiots who might think less of me for acting like a fool to please my baby girl.
The last week has been one of the best of my life. Sarah is happy. Laura is happy. I’m happy. Hell, even Doctor Claw is happy and he’s usually a grumpy cat who wants to be left alone so he can nap the day away.
Of course something has to happen to interrupt the happy moment.
What do you think you are doing?
Taskmaster Daphne is standing in the doorway looking none too pleased with me. Our morning session didn’t go very well. It’s no surprise that my extended lunch break has her pissed off.
This is not going to help you beat Tugarin Zmey… unless the plan is to make him laugh so hard he hurts himself.
Sorry, I got distracted after lunch.
I stand up and carefully remove Laura from the papoose. Sarah steps into the room and extends her arms. Guess Mommy wants some quality time with her daughter too. I pass Laura over to Sarah, give each a peck on the check, and turn to Daphne.
Can you blame me? Who can say no to either one of these beautiful faces?
I manage to stop myself before I start making silly baby talk noises in front of Daphne.
It’s okay Frank. Daphne has a point. You better train your ass off so you’re ready for Zmey.
If Sarah and Daphne are on the same page, then I better get on it too. I know they’re both right. Tugarin Zmey is one scary mother f***er. I’ll need to be better than my best to put him down.
Daphne and I make our way back to the gym, crossing the yard taking just long enough for shivers to set in from the bitter cold of an early Massachusetts winter.
I’m serious Frank. Ever since you went to Vegas you’ve been slacking off. We still have time to get ready for Zmey but not if you keep goofing off.
I know. It’s just that getting married, spending time with Sarah and Laura… it’s a different take on life from the WFWF. And I like it.
If you want to keep enjoying life, then you have to survive Tugarin Zmey. After him, it will be either Whitner or Draven. Who knows after that. It’s not going to get any easier.
Daphne slaps me across the face, not hard but enough to get my attention.
You better find your focus again or you’re gonna’ crash and burn.
Find my focus, eh? Pot meet kettle.
There is some truth to her tirade though. I’m not sure if I’m just using the family life as an excuse to not prepare for Zmey because I’m afraid no amount of preparation will be enough. I’ve never wanted to run from a fight as much as I want to run from Zmey.
I’ve fought big men before and won; Lucas Crowe and Big McLargehuge come to mind. But none of them were quite like the mysterious masked giant. He’s in my head without even trying.
Just like a certain blue haired Vanguard Knight is in Daphne’s head.
Speaking of finding your focus, are you fully invested in this match or do you have other things on your mind? Other ‘itches’ to scratch?
Daphne’s eyes burn a hole in me. I’ve pressed one of her buttons.
I don’t have to step in the ring with Tugarin Zmey. I can support you AND take care of my ‘itches’ just fine.
Enough beating around the bush. I said I would stay neutral but that doesn’t mean I can’t ask a few questions because I still don’t know why Daphne is doing the things she is doing.
I don’t know about that. You are spending a lot of time obsessing over Mesh. What is it about her that bothers you so much?
Daphne doesn’t answer. She fumes silently, paces, makes angry faces… it’s like watching a preview of Laura as a teenager after I tell her I don’t approve of her boyfriend.
Come on Daph. Spill it. Because right now it looks like petty jealousy and that really doesn’t look good on you.
I pressed another button. Daphne almost explodes at me.
I am not jealous of that silly little girl!
She almost winds up and slaps me for real. Then she pulls back, takes a deep breath, and goes off on a rant.
She’s an embarrassment to every female wrestler who has fought to be taken seriously. Quinn, Shannon, even that Ahriman bitch all deserve far more credit than her yet Mesh gets everything handed to her on a silver platter. It’s disgusting!
Okay, some of that was almost coherent. I don’t recall Mesh having anything handed to her though. Certainly not having to survive Needles or face Shuggy… twice! She damn sure gave me a fight that I wasn’t expecting. Next time it might not go my way.
You might have to elaborate for me. It still sounds like jealousy.
Trust me, it’s not. I want the silly little girl to grow up into a serious woman who represents all of us with proper dignity, not set us back fifty years.
Daphne’s starting to turn a shade of red that in a cartoon would precede smoke coming out of her ears. I better back off before I go too far. This is obviously something that Mesh will have to handle on her own. I need Daphne too much to lose her over it.
Time to go back to being Switzerland, as neutral as the off white paint on the walls in every apartment in America.
I’m going to chalk this up to a female thing that as a male I have no way of understanding and if I try it will only end up pissing you off.
Daphne gives me the look every man has received at some point in their life from an angry woman. The look that means ‘You’re damn right you won’t understand. You’re just a stupid man!’
I hope you can resolve it soon though because I need you at my side giving me one hundred per cent. As you said, we have some tough fights ahead of us.
Daphne’s expression softens. Then she points at the ring and I see she has a surprise for me.
Well good, because I’m not here to discuss Mesh with you. I’m here to get your lazy ass back into shape for Tugarin Zmey. That’s why he is here.
’He’ being a mountain of a man standing in the ring looking very impatient.
Who the hell is that and where the hell did you find him?
That is Jorge. He is Abraham’s latest pet project, a refugee from Central America who is every bit as big as Zmey… and every bit as nasty thanks to a very hard life.
Daphne pauses so she walk around the huge man, slapping his rock hard abs, squeezing his giant biceps, and generally preening over the man she chose as the perfect training partner.
Rumor has it he used to wrestle bulls. It could be a mistake in translation but I don’t think so.
I’d believe it.
Indeed. Looking at him, I don’t doubt it. Bulls, alligators, bears, semi trucks, small mountains… I bet he could wrestle them all.
Jorge may actually be taller and heavier than Zmey. Standing next to him I feel like I’m looking up at a skyscraper… an angry, merciless skyscraper that wants to kill me.
Without warning, Jorge grabs me around the throat and throws me across the ring.
Daphne cheers, then yells at me that I better find my focus now or Jorge will see to it that I don’t even get to Oakland to face Tugarin Zmey.
I stand up in the corner, dust myself off, and snarl at the giant.
Okay big boy, let’s see what you’ve got.
That’s the spirit Frank! Show me what you’ve got. Find your goddamn focus!
To help matters, Daphne climbs onto the ropes and slips a Jason mask onto Jorge’s oversized melon. The resemblance to Tugarin is uncanny… and it makes the hair on my neck stand at attention.
Daphne’s not playing games. Either I find my focus right f***ing now or she’ll have Jorge eat me for dinner.
* * *
Several hours and many hard bumps later we wrap up the sparring session. By far the hardest session I’ve ever had and that includes multiple sessions with several members of the Dixon family, who take great joy inflicting pain on the man who co-signs their checks.
The bad news is I’m so sore I can barely walk.
The good news is I got more falls on Jorge than he did on me.
It took a while but once I got tired of him throwing me around like a small child, I got my head back in the game. Pain is a great motivator. More accurately, avoiding pain is a great motivator.
With Daphne’s helpful observations and tips, I found ways to avoid his power moves and use his mass against him.
The best news is I got over my fear of Zmey. It’s easy to be intimidated by the monster in the mask but there is man underneath it and any man can be defeated. I found the weaknesses in Jorge’s game. I can find the weaknesses in Zmey’s game too.
Fact is, like Zmey I have a mask of my own. It’s the lethal weapon persona. I let the mask slip while I was in Vegas getting married and living the high life. It took Daphne, Jorge, and an afternoon of constant physical punishment to put the mask back on.
Now the mask is hiding all signs of family man Frank Lynn. All that can be seen is the battle hardened warrior. I am mentally ready for Zmey. I have plenty of time to get physically ready.
We’ll see which man behind the mask is the real beast in Oakland at Event Horizon. My money is on me, because you can’t just tear a piece of leather off my face to reveal the man behind the mask. My lethal weapon mask goes all the way to the bone.
Zmey should be the one filled with fear for this match. Once I become the lethal weapon, there is no stopping me.
The Dragon Unchained!
Congratulations Tugarin Zmey. The chains that bound you to Michael Kyzer have been broken. You are a free man.
The question now is what are you going to do with your freedom.
For years you’ve been paraded around the WFWF by Kyzer, playing the monster to his Dr. Frankenstein. The rest of the WFWF ran in fear from your masked visage, knowing that where ever you went you were sure to do Kyzer’s bidding, spreading chaos and destruction.
David Brennan felt your wraith and it damn near broke him. The statue of Bobby Orr will never be the same after that night in Boston.
Drakz felt your wraith and it did break him. Rather than let you beat him, he snapped and attacked you with a steel chair. That he only put you down temporarily is a testament to your size and strength.
But that was the work of Kyzer’s monster, the Dragon. He gave you a direction and a purpose which you carried out in a silent rage.
I don’t think any of us will ever truly know what ties bound you to Kyzer, a far weaker man you could have broken at any point in time if you wanted to. That’s simple math. Drakz beat Kyzer. Zmey beat Drakz. Therefore, Zmey beats Kyzer… if he wants to.
But you didn’t want to. You stood at the side of a psychopath like an obedient dog, following his orders without question.
And that was the basis for the fear you instill in everybody else.
But you aren’t Kyzer’s lapdog anymore, are you? Kyzer freed you. Or did he reject you?
How did it feel when Kyzer said he didn’t need you anymore?
Do you have emotions behind that scary mask you wear? Do you feel like the rest of us? Are you human after all?
I think the answer is yes. You must be hurt by your former master discarding you like an empty pizza box.
You must be looking for a new purpose to fill the void left behind by Kyzer.
You probably think that beating Frank Lynn is the first step in your new unfettered existence.
I’ve told others before you and now I’ll tell you.
Wrong!
You’re about to face off against the LETHAL WEAPON. The current reigning International Champion for over two hundred days and counting.
About that. I’m sorry this isn’t a title match. Fact is, Lila already has her eyes set on a rematch with either Whitner or Draven as my next title defense so you’re sh*t out of luck. Nothing either of us can do about it.
The only thing on the line between us is respect.
Something which up to now I have none of for you. I respect free thinkers who make their own choices, not lapdogs who sit at their master’s side waiting for the next order.
Maybe that will change now that the chains have been broken. Maybe you were only a monster because that is what Kyzer made you.
If it’s actually true and you turn out to not be a monster, then I say more power to you.
You’ll have time later to show what kind of man you will be without Kyzer pulling your strings.
Not that it matters for this match.
At Event Horizon I’m prepared to face the only Tugarin Zmey any of us know. The Dragon who destroyed without mercy at his master’s bidding. The mindless killing machine who strikes fear into the hearts of the weak.
I’m not weak.
I’m the lethal weapon.
You’ll find out what that means first hand when face me.
Feel free to insert the ‘David vs Goliath’ cliché of your choice here. As appropriate as it would be, I don’t want to bore anyone with the same old sh*t they hear every time there is a big man vs little man match.
Truth of the matter is that big men can be beat.
I choked out Lucas Crowe. I pinned Big McLargehuge. I will beat you too.
The Dasochoku doesn’t care about size. You’ll either tap or pass out and become another notch on my belt.
You don’t scare me Tugarin Zmey. Once upon a time you did but not anymore.
Underneath that mask you’re just a man and there is no man alive that I can’t beat in the ring when I set my mind to it.
Ask your former master Kyzer. I beat him.
You’re next Tugarin Zmey.
The Dragon will bow down to the Lethal Weapon.
Las Vegas, NV : Nov. 24, 2018 : GFL 175
We join the action in between matches, the camera focused on GFL announcers Joe Thomas Wayne and retired fighter David Columbo. JTW is providing his usual hype for the special 15th Anniversary show being held in Las Vegas as part of International Fight Week.
It’s been a great night for the Guerrilla Fighting League on its 15th Anniversary. Seven matches down and each one was incredible, whether it was a technical display or a slugfest. We’ve seen tap outs and knock outs. Best of all, not a single match went to the judges. Every fighter came to win tonight.
Up next is the main event where the up and coming insane Irishman Lenny McTavish takes on Alessandro Bogota, the Brazilian Jiu-jitsu master who has owned the light heavyweight division for almost a decade.
The camera switches to a crowd shot, zooming in on the familiar face of GFL owner Sammy Kendall and his special guest for the evening, WFWF International Champion and former GFL contender Frank Lynn. Columbo provides commentary for the shot.
There’s Sammy, looking so very proud… and deservedly so… of the GFL on this spectacular night. And he is joined by former GFL fighter Frank Lynn. This could have been Frank’s night if he hadn’t left the GFL to wrestle in the WFWF. Personally I would have liked to see what he could do in the octagon with few more fights under his belt but you can’t knock the man for jumping ship. He’s done quite well for himself in the WFWF where he is the current International Champion.
The camera switches back to the commentators. JTW takes over, once again pumping the hype to eleven.
We all have to follow our own path in life and Frank’s led him to success elsewhere. Let’s not get distracted from one of the most highly anticipated main events in GFL history. McTavish has been running his mouth for months now telling everybody that HE is the man who can end Bogota’s decade of dominance in the most competitive division in the GFL. Bogota has been more vocal than usual in responding to the irascible Irishman, providing more than his fair share of trash talk as well. It’s put up or shut up time!
The camera pans around the arena until it centers on the challenger making his entrance to an Irish metal rap song. Immediately after, the reigning champ enters to a Spanish rap song with a catchy guitar riff. Both fighters stop during their entrances to smile at Sammy and glare at Frank Lynn, who stands up and lets them know if they want some he’s not going anywhere. Sammy grabs Frank by the shoulder and pulls him back into his seat, a smile on his face as he sees dollar signs. Frank Lynn facing off against Bogota and McTavish will be all over the internet tomorrow accompanied by countless crazy rumors about an imminent return to the GFL.
Both fighters go through the pre-fight check and enter the octagon. Then the most famous voice in all of combat sports, Michael Duffer, steps into the spotlight to make the introductions.
Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the 15th Anniversary GFL show. It’s time for the MAIN EVENT of the evening, a five round bout to decide the GFL Light Heavyweight Champion of the World!
Are you ready to ruuuuuuuuuuuummmmmmmmmmmmm…
WFWF Event Horizon RP
Behind the Mask
featuring Frank Lynn
“Accursed creator! Why did you form a monster so hideous that even you turned from me in disgust?”
― Mary Shelley
Las Vegas, NV : November 24, 2018 : GFL 175
Hitting the Jackpot
…bbbbbbbbbbbllllllllleeeeeee?!?!?!
Finally, Duffer completes his famous phrase “Are you ready to rumble?” He stretched it out so long that I could have gone to the rest room AND the concession stand without missing anything. Oh well, it’s all part of the show… just a part I could do without. Duffer is milking his fifteen seconds of fame for all its worth when the spotlight should be squarely on the two fighters about to go to war over the GFW Light Heavyweight title.
Sammy taps me on the shoulder to be sure he has my attention, then points at the fighters in the octagon.
That could have been you in there Frank.
I’d like to think so but we won’t ever know, will we?
Sammy shrugs. I know he was disappointed when I didn’t renew my contract and instead chose to sign with the WFWF. He loves MMA so much that he couldn’t quite understand how unhappy I was as an MMA fighter.
Just because you’re good at something doesn’t mean that is what you should do with your life. I’m much better off in the WFWF where I can truly be me. As boring as I seem compared to charismatic superstars like Drakz or Mesh, I have enough showman in me to never be happy with one fight every three months or so that has a high chance to end up being two grown men rolling around on the mat for three rounds so a bunch of unqualified judges can pick a winner based on who had the better octagon control… whatever the hell octagon control is. It’s so damn subjective and annoying. Really f***ing annoying.
I much prefer the objective nature of a WFWF match with no time limits and the winner is decided by a clear cut pin fall or submission. Doesn’t hurt that I can do a little high flying when the time is right. You don’t see anybody doing a five star frog splash in the GFL. Maybe if I could I wouldn’t have left.
I have a good eye for talent and you were one of the best I’ve ever seen. I have no doubt you would’ve become a champion in the GFL.
Well, I became a WFWF champion instead.
Sammy smiles, one of his genuine I’m happy for you smiles, not the fake smile he delivers in interviews or to potential business partners that he is trying to butter up. I feel a little pride that he regards me so highly and also shame that I let him down. This is the man who gave me my big break and I turned my back on him.
Both feelings pass quickly as I know I had to do what was right for me. Besides, Sammy is always finding good fighters to keep the GFL on top of the world of MMA. Look at this McTavish guy. He’s a virtual gold mine for Sammy. The GFL has higher ratings and revenues than the WFWF so he is doing just fine without me.
You sure did but what took you so long?
A friendly jibe delivered with a wink of his eye that I take in stride.
The WFWF isn’t run the same as the GFL. There’s a lot more to getting a title fight than simply winning your way up the rankings. Hell, there aren’t even rankings in the WFWF. Just Lila Sleater’s favorites and not-so-favorites.
Ah, Lila Sleater. Just between you and me, I can’t stand her. She’s a real bitch at times.
Oh really? Sammy is not too fond of Lila Sleater. That’s very interesting. Not the impression I got from seeing them being all chummy chummy after a WFWF show a few months back, the night Lila decided to blackmail me into being “her good little soldier”.
As much as I want to enjoy the match, this is something I have to explore further. I need to find out if Lila overplayed her hand, that perhaps she was bluffing and I fell for it.
Really? I thought you and Lila had a good working relationship, seeing how you both like to scout the other’s organization for top prospects.
That’s only half true. Lila definitely likes to steal away MMA fighters to fill her roster. I’ve seen the WFWF and honestly, outside of you, there is nobody I would want in the GFL.
Sammy looks me square in the face and cocks an eyebrow at my surprised reaction.
Come on Frank? Can you imagine someone like Ante Whitner or Tyler Draven in a GFL match? It would be a sh*t show resulting in an immediate disqualification and suspension. The GFW would be the laughingstock of the MMA world if we featured those no talent idiots. I run a legitimate combat sport promotion, not a circus freak show.
It feels weird to hear Sammy saying the same things I said a year ago when I was leading a revolution to revamp the WFWF into something respectable. I always thought I was reacting to and mimicking Joe Bishop and Josh Dean but maybe it went deeper than that. Maybe I was Sammy’s emissary to the WFWF.
You know damn well I agree. I tried to change it but that ain’t happening. The WFWF makes its money being the king of over the top ultra-violence.
The action in the octagon picks up as McTavish lands a flurry of punches to Bogota and then takes him down to the mat. We both join the rest of the fans in cheering for the action. When it slows down, I resume talking to Sammy, trying to broach the subject of my departure from the GFL.
So, do you talk often with Lila? She made it sound like you two are best buddies trading notes on a daily basis.
Nope. I try to avoid her as much as possible. She makes my skin crawl.
But you do talk?
Yes, maybe once a month. Usually she is feeling me out for fighters who are coming to the end of their contracts. It’s a competition to her. She takes great joy in signing away any of my top fighters.
That’s my opening.
Like me?
Sammy frowns.
Like you.
Sorry. Had to do what I had to do.
It’s not like I didn’t see it coming.
Because I tore up the locker room after my match with that amateur wrestler kid who spent fifteen minutes rolling around on the mat refusing to actually fight and then got a bullsh*t split decision win?
Yeah, that fight left a mark. Only satisfaction I can get from it is that the kid lasted two more fights before a striker damn near knocked his head off in less than ten seconds. He got gun-shy and retired shortly after. Last I heard, he was running a WaWa in Philadelphia while training to be on American Ninja Warrior.
No, although that was a sign. Actually, I knew you would be leaving when I saw you wrestle in Legacy.
My jaw drops. Sammy knows? He knew all this time and never said anything?
Don’t look so shocked Frank. Anybody who watched as many of your GFL matches as I did knew you were that masked white tiger guy in Legacy. The way you executed your judo and submission moves gave it away.
You never said anything, never objected?
Why would I? You met all your obligations to the GFL. We don’t have an exclusivity clause in our contracts.
But I put my GFL fights at risk. I thought you would be livid.
In this business, fighters go down all the time to training injuries. If you got injured in a wrestling match it would be no different. We’d find another fighter to step in while you healed up. No big deal. It’s not like you failed a drug test. Now that would have pissed me off.
This is huge. Either Lila was bluffing or she doesn’t know Sammy as well as she thinks. Whatever the case, I feel a huge weight lifting off my shoulders. I don’t have to kiss Lila’s ass any more… and Daphne doesn’t have to shut up and shake her ass to keep the queen bitch happy.
Earth to Frank. You still there?
Yeah, I’m here. Just processing what you said. I thought if you found out about my wrestling in Legacy you would be mad, possibly sue me for breach of contract.
Sammy lets out a booming laugh that alarms some of the fans around us, but their attention quickly turns back to the octagon as Bogota makes a comeback against McTavish. Bogota almost submits him to a triangle choke but McTavish is saved by the bell.
Its obvious you’re not a lawyer. I couldn’t sue you even if I wanted to. And I don’t!
He claps me on the shoulder to emphasize the point.
You may not be fighting for me but what you’re doing in the WFWF is still good for the GFL.
This ought to be good. How exactly does a top prospect leaving the GFL do some good for the GFL?
There isn’t as much overlap between the WFWF and GFL audiences as some would believe so every time that Daniel Knight twit talks about you as ‘the former MMA fighter’, it gives free publicity to the GFL. We get a piece of their audience without having to do a damn thing.
I never thought about it that way.
Why would you? Running the GFL is my business, not yours. You just keep doing what you’re doing, winning championships and showing the WFWF fans that a real fighter can always beat those bar room brawlers. It’s a win/win situation for us both.
Son of a bitch! I’ve spent the past few months being afraid of Lila for nothing. My hatred for her grows.
I wonder if I’ve found an ally against Lila, one she has absolutely no power over. Let’s see how far I can go with this.
So you’re not fond of Lila. How would you like to beat her at her own game?
It’s Sammy’s turn to looked shocked. I don’t think he expected me to be playing mind games, particularly not with Lila Sleater. I’m pretty sure to him I’m just an above average fighter and not much more. Fighters don’t necessarily have the greatest reputation for being thinkers. If so then I’m glad I surprised him.
I think this about to get serious. We should probably discuss it later in private.
You have any plans for after the show?
I do now.
Sammy smiles. I smile. I love it when a plan comes together.
This may not have been the reason I came to Vegas but I feel like I just hit the jackpot.
Las Vegas, NV : November 26, 2018
I Do
The door to the penthouse suite opens with a bang, swinging wide and hitting the doorstop with a resounding thud.
Okay, maybe I overdid it when I kicked the door open but my hands were full and I’m pretty damn excited right now.
Excited to get out of this monkey suit. I hate suits. More than I hate Lila Sleater. I wore it for Sarah. That should tell all you need to know about how I much I love her.
Excited to get Sarah out of her tight white dress. She has lost all the baby weight and looks great in it but will look even better out of it.
Excited to consummate that which an Elvis impersonator made official less than an hour ago, even though said consummation actually happened over a year ago and we have the proof in little Laura, who is now back in Framingham with her grandparents and Doctor Claw while Sarah and I enjoy Las Vegas to the fullest.
That’s right boys and girls. Frank Lynn finally tied the knot with the love of his life Sarah Fairchild. We did it in style, in front of a bunch of strangers in various states of sobriety with the man Elvis Presley himself as master of ceremonies. Spur of the moment thing you know. Totally worth the $500.
I carry my bride to the bed and place her down gently, wrapping my arms around her and planting a big wet kiss on her before we separate.
Are you really cool with this? We just exchanged vows in front of Elvis.
Absolutely! You were the one who wanted a big wedding. I just wanted to hear you say ‘I do’ and put a ring on it.
She holds up her hand and admires the ring on her finger, her eyes shining as brightly as the rock adorning the ring.
You’re mine now and I’ll fight anybody who tries to get between us.
Who’s talking like a wrestler now?
You wanted a big church wedding, not me. I’m not sure why. Your mom can’t be here and your dad… the less said about him the better.
She snuggles in close and guides my hand to the zipper on the back of her dress.
Who did you want to put the show on for?
For you of course. You deserve the best.
She takes step back and lets her dress slide down her body to the floor. She jumps back into my arms and kisses me again.
I got the best. I got you.
Only a fool would argue with that. I’m no fool so I don’t.
As long as you’re happy, then I’m happy.
Sarah excuses herself to go to the bathroom and freshen up, hitting me with the classic ‘slipping into something more comfortable’ line.
As I remove the monkey suit, I notice a bouquet on a table that wasn’t there earlier today. We didn’t exactly announce our plans so who the hell are they from?
I check the card.
Congratulations! I wish I could be there. Maybe this will change your mind. Love, Your Father
What the f***? Is the crazy old man spying on me? I thought I made it clear when I left him sipping mimosas in his private jet. I don’t want anything to do with him.
And what does he mean ‘maybe this will change my mind’?
A check for $10k. That’s it. He’s gonna buy me? Sorry but I’m not for sale.
Who’s that from?
Sarah comes out of the bathroom. Her idea of ‘something more comfortable’ is nothing at all. I approve. I drop the card and check into the trash can, all thoughts of my old man discarded just as quickly.
Oh it’s from the hotel. The chapel must have called them with the good news.
She wraps herself around me, helping to remove what’s left of my suit.
I’ll smell them later. I want do what all good married couples do on their honeymoon.
She finishes with a girlish giggle. As for her sentiment, I agree wholeheartedly. So we do what all good couples do on their honeymoon. Several times. Be jealous. Wrestlers have great stamina.
* * *
Hours later, we’re still snuggling together in bed unable to sleep. Having fulfilled our marital duties and then some, reality slowly finds its way back into our thoughts.
How long do we have before I lose you to the WFWF again?
It’s not that bad, is it?
Don’t get me wrong. I don’t mind that you spend ten to twelve hours a day in the gym every day. You have to so you have a chance against men… against monsters like Tugarin Zmey.
That name sends a chill down my spine. Of all the wrestlers in the WFWF, he actually scares me. Seven foot tall. Four hundred pounds. The monster who beat Drakz. And a complete f*cking mystery to me. How do you read a silent giant who hides behind a mask and up ’til recently only did the bidding of resident psychopath Michael Kyzer?
I want you to come home to me. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, preferably in health and not sickness.
She turns over so we are face to face, her head propped on my arm while she playfully runs her fingers up and down my chest.
If that means I have to give you up to your training so you don’t die to a lunatic like Zmey, then that’s what I’ll do.
I have no plans to die in the ring. Wrestling doesn’t mean that much to me. You and Laura are more important than anything that happens in the ring.
I kiss her on her forehead, stroking her hair. Yep, this sure beats exchanging blows with Ante Whitner, Tyler Draven, or Tugarin Zmey. If I had to choose, it would be the easiest and quickest choice I’d ever make.
Don’t you worry. We have plenty of time for our honeymoon before I have to hit the gym. And nobody, not even Tugarin Zmey, is going to stop me from coming home to you and Laura.
I say it with as much confidence as I can muster. I hope it convinces Sarah because it doesn’t convince me.
For the first time in my WFWF career, I’m afraid of my opponent. It’s not a good feeling.
I get this flash of Sammy Kendall sitting next to me in the front row at the GFL Anniversary show, offering his point of view as we discussed Tugarin Zmey.
Bet you wish you were still in the GFL. There’s something to be said for weight classes.
Thanks for the insight Sammy. Now get out of my head so I can enjoy my wife’s company.
Doesn’t work as Zmey is all I can think about.
I’m going to need all the help I can get from Daphne when we get back home. I hope her head is in the game because she’s been busy with that ‘itch’ she wants to scratch. It’s obvious who the ‘itch’ is and I don’t get it. I just hope it doesn’t get in the way of Daphne getting me ready for Zmey. I don’t know if I can handle him alone.
Sarah and I finally fall asleep, arms and legs intertwined. My night is filled with dreams, some good ones of a long happy life with my family and some not so good ones filled with images of Tugarin Zmey ripping me limb from limb.
Framingham, MA : December 3, 2018
Priorities
The world would get good chuckle out of my current state but you know what?
F*** ‘em.
So what if I’m on all fours with a papoose on backwards so my baby girl can be in the saddle riding me like a horse around the living room while the cat chases the two of us. The happy baby sounds Laura is making mean more to me than the jeers of a thousand idiots who might think less of me for acting like a fool to please my baby girl.
The last week has been one of the best of my life. Sarah is happy. Laura is happy. I’m happy. Hell, even Doctor Claw is happy and he’s usually a grumpy cat who wants to be left alone so he can nap the day away.
Of course something has to happen to interrupt the happy moment.
What do you think you are doing?
Taskmaster Daphne is standing in the doorway looking none too pleased with me. Our morning session didn’t go very well. It’s no surprise that my extended lunch break has her pissed off.
This is not going to help you beat Tugarin Zmey… unless the plan is to make him laugh so hard he hurts himself.
Sorry, I got distracted after lunch.
I stand up and carefully remove Laura from the papoose. Sarah steps into the room and extends her arms. Guess Mommy wants some quality time with her daughter too. I pass Laura over to Sarah, give each a peck on the check, and turn to Daphne.
Can you blame me? Who can say no to either one of these beautiful faces?
I manage to stop myself before I start making silly baby talk noises in front of Daphne.
It’s okay Frank. Daphne has a point. You better train your ass off so you’re ready for Zmey.
If Sarah and Daphne are on the same page, then I better get on it too. I know they’re both right. Tugarin Zmey is one scary mother f***er. I’ll need to be better than my best to put him down.
Daphne and I make our way back to the gym, crossing the yard taking just long enough for shivers to set in from the bitter cold of an early Massachusetts winter.
I’m serious Frank. Ever since you went to Vegas you’ve been slacking off. We still have time to get ready for Zmey but not if you keep goofing off.
I know. It’s just that getting married, spending time with Sarah and Laura… it’s a different take on life from the WFWF. And I like it.
If you want to keep enjoying life, then you have to survive Tugarin Zmey. After him, it will be either Whitner or Draven. Who knows after that. It’s not going to get any easier.
Daphne slaps me across the face, not hard but enough to get my attention.
You better find your focus again or you’re gonna’ crash and burn.
Find my focus, eh? Pot meet kettle.
There is some truth to her tirade though. I’m not sure if I’m just using the family life as an excuse to not prepare for Zmey because I’m afraid no amount of preparation will be enough. I’ve never wanted to run from a fight as much as I want to run from Zmey.
I’ve fought big men before and won; Lucas Crowe and Big McLargehuge come to mind. But none of them were quite like the mysterious masked giant. He’s in my head without even trying.
Just like a certain blue haired Vanguard Knight is in Daphne’s head.
Speaking of finding your focus, are you fully invested in this match or do you have other things on your mind? Other ‘itches’ to scratch?
Daphne’s eyes burn a hole in me. I’ve pressed one of her buttons.
I don’t have to step in the ring with Tugarin Zmey. I can support you AND take care of my ‘itches’ just fine.
Enough beating around the bush. I said I would stay neutral but that doesn’t mean I can’t ask a few questions because I still don’t know why Daphne is doing the things she is doing.
I don’t know about that. You are spending a lot of time obsessing over Mesh. What is it about her that bothers you so much?
Daphne doesn’t answer. She fumes silently, paces, makes angry faces… it’s like watching a preview of Laura as a teenager after I tell her I don’t approve of her boyfriend.
Come on Daph. Spill it. Because right now it looks like petty jealousy and that really doesn’t look good on you.
I pressed another button. Daphne almost explodes at me.
I am not jealous of that silly little girl!
She almost winds up and slaps me for real. Then she pulls back, takes a deep breath, and goes off on a rant.
She’s an embarrassment to every female wrestler who has fought to be taken seriously. Quinn, Shannon, even that Ahriman bitch all deserve far more credit than her yet Mesh gets everything handed to her on a silver platter. It’s disgusting!
Okay, some of that was almost coherent. I don’t recall Mesh having anything handed to her though. Certainly not having to survive Needles or face Shuggy… twice! She damn sure gave me a fight that I wasn’t expecting. Next time it might not go my way.
You might have to elaborate for me. It still sounds like jealousy.
Trust me, it’s not. I want the silly little girl to grow up into a serious woman who represents all of us with proper dignity, not set us back fifty years.
Daphne’s starting to turn a shade of red that in a cartoon would precede smoke coming out of her ears. I better back off before I go too far. This is obviously something that Mesh will have to handle on her own. I need Daphne too much to lose her over it.
Time to go back to being Switzerland, as neutral as the off white paint on the walls in every apartment in America.
I’m going to chalk this up to a female thing that as a male I have no way of understanding and if I try it will only end up pissing you off.
Daphne gives me the look every man has received at some point in their life from an angry woman. The look that means ‘You’re damn right you won’t understand. You’re just a stupid man!’
I hope you can resolve it soon though because I need you at my side giving me one hundred per cent. As you said, we have some tough fights ahead of us.
Daphne’s expression softens. Then she points at the ring and I see she has a surprise for me.
Well good, because I’m not here to discuss Mesh with you. I’m here to get your lazy ass back into shape for Tugarin Zmey. That’s why he is here.
’He’ being a mountain of a man standing in the ring looking very impatient.
Who the hell is that and where the hell did you find him?
That is Jorge. He is Abraham’s latest pet project, a refugee from Central America who is every bit as big as Zmey… and every bit as nasty thanks to a very hard life.
Daphne pauses so she walk around the huge man, slapping his rock hard abs, squeezing his giant biceps, and generally preening over the man she chose as the perfect training partner.
Rumor has it he used to wrestle bulls. It could be a mistake in translation but I don’t think so.
I’d believe it.
Indeed. Looking at him, I don’t doubt it. Bulls, alligators, bears, semi trucks, small mountains… I bet he could wrestle them all.
Jorge may actually be taller and heavier than Zmey. Standing next to him I feel like I’m looking up at a skyscraper… an angry, merciless skyscraper that wants to kill me.
Without warning, Jorge grabs me around the throat and throws me across the ring.
Daphne cheers, then yells at me that I better find my focus now or Jorge will see to it that I don’t even get to Oakland to face Tugarin Zmey.
I stand up in the corner, dust myself off, and snarl at the giant.
Okay big boy, let’s see what you’ve got.
That’s the spirit Frank! Show me what you’ve got. Find your goddamn focus!
To help matters, Daphne climbs onto the ropes and slips a Jason mask onto Jorge’s oversized melon. The resemblance to Tugarin is uncanny… and it makes the hair on my neck stand at attention.
Daphne’s not playing games. Either I find my focus right f***ing now or she’ll have Jorge eat me for dinner.
* * *
Several hours and many hard bumps later we wrap up the sparring session. By far the hardest session I’ve ever had and that includes multiple sessions with several members of the Dixon family, who take great joy inflicting pain on the man who co-signs their checks.
The bad news is I’m so sore I can barely walk.
The good news is I got more falls on Jorge than he did on me.
It took a while but once I got tired of him throwing me around like a small child, I got my head back in the game. Pain is a great motivator. More accurately, avoiding pain is a great motivator.
With Daphne’s helpful observations and tips, I found ways to avoid his power moves and use his mass against him.
The best news is I got over my fear of Zmey. It’s easy to be intimidated by the monster in the mask but there is man underneath it and any man can be defeated. I found the weaknesses in Jorge’s game. I can find the weaknesses in Zmey’s game too.
Fact is, like Zmey I have a mask of my own. It’s the lethal weapon persona. I let the mask slip while I was in Vegas getting married and living the high life. It took Daphne, Jorge, and an afternoon of constant physical punishment to put the mask back on.
Now the mask is hiding all signs of family man Frank Lynn. All that can be seen is the battle hardened warrior. I am mentally ready for Zmey. I have plenty of time to get physically ready.
We’ll see which man behind the mask is the real beast in Oakland at Event Horizon. My money is on me, because you can’t just tear a piece of leather off my face to reveal the man behind the mask. My lethal weapon mask goes all the way to the bone.
Zmey should be the one filled with fear for this match. Once I become the lethal weapon, there is no stopping me.
The Dragon Unchained!
Congratulations Tugarin Zmey. The chains that bound you to Michael Kyzer have been broken. You are a free man.
The question now is what are you going to do with your freedom.
For years you’ve been paraded around the WFWF by Kyzer, playing the monster to his Dr. Frankenstein. The rest of the WFWF ran in fear from your masked visage, knowing that where ever you went you were sure to do Kyzer’s bidding, spreading chaos and destruction.
David Brennan felt your wraith and it damn near broke him. The statue of Bobby Orr will never be the same after that night in Boston.
Drakz felt your wraith and it did break him. Rather than let you beat him, he snapped and attacked you with a steel chair. That he only put you down temporarily is a testament to your size and strength.
But that was the work of Kyzer’s monster, the Dragon. He gave you a direction and a purpose which you carried out in a silent rage.
I don’t think any of us will ever truly know what ties bound you to Kyzer, a far weaker man you could have broken at any point in time if you wanted to. That’s simple math. Drakz beat Kyzer. Zmey beat Drakz. Therefore, Zmey beats Kyzer… if he wants to.
But you didn’t want to. You stood at the side of a psychopath like an obedient dog, following his orders without question.
And that was the basis for the fear you instill in everybody else.
But you aren’t Kyzer’s lapdog anymore, are you? Kyzer freed you. Or did he reject you?
How did it feel when Kyzer said he didn’t need you anymore?
Do you have emotions behind that scary mask you wear? Do you feel like the rest of us? Are you human after all?
I think the answer is yes. You must be hurt by your former master discarding you like an empty pizza box.
You must be looking for a new purpose to fill the void left behind by Kyzer.
You probably think that beating Frank Lynn is the first step in your new unfettered existence.
I’ve told others before you and now I’ll tell you.
Wrong!
You’re about to face off against the LETHAL WEAPON. The current reigning International Champion for over two hundred days and counting.
About that. I’m sorry this isn’t a title match. Fact is, Lila already has her eyes set on a rematch with either Whitner or Draven as my next title defense so you’re sh*t out of luck. Nothing either of us can do about it.
The only thing on the line between us is respect.
Something which up to now I have none of for you. I respect free thinkers who make their own choices, not lapdogs who sit at their master’s side waiting for the next order.
Maybe that will change now that the chains have been broken. Maybe you were only a monster because that is what Kyzer made you.
If it’s actually true and you turn out to not be a monster, then I say more power to you.
You’ll have time later to show what kind of man you will be without Kyzer pulling your strings.
Not that it matters for this match.
At Event Horizon I’m prepared to face the only Tugarin Zmey any of us know. The Dragon who destroyed without mercy at his master’s bidding. The mindless killing machine who strikes fear into the hearts of the weak.
I’m not weak.
I’m the lethal weapon.
You’ll find out what that means first hand when face me.
Feel free to insert the ‘David vs Goliath’ cliché of your choice here. As appropriate as it would be, I don’t want to bore anyone with the same old sh*t they hear every time there is a big man vs little man match.
Truth of the matter is that big men can be beat.
I choked out Lucas Crowe. I pinned Big McLargehuge. I will beat you too.
The Dasochoku doesn’t care about size. You’ll either tap or pass out and become another notch on my belt.
You don’t scare me Tugarin Zmey. Once upon a time you did but not anymore.
Underneath that mask you’re just a man and there is no man alive that I can’t beat in the ring when I set my mind to it.
Ask your former master Kyzer. I beat him.
You’re next Tugarin Zmey.
The Dragon will bow down to the Lethal Weapon.