Post by Deleted on May 21, 2016 2:32:12 GMT -5
Me: Seth is trying to kill me. That is what this fucking match is about!
I had just found out about who I was going to face in the first round of the WCF Classic tournament that Seth Lerch was using to kick off the "new" WCF, after ridding it of many people he had issues with from the top on down. Truth be told, I thought I was one of the many who got the ax after he tossed all of those contracts in the air. I mean, I was just a rookie two matches into my career there. Why was I going to be retained for anything special?
Well, after the implosion that happened in Mexico City, I went back to Portland, expecting no fanfare whatsoever as I returned back to Natural 20 and what has now turned into a standing job working as the assistant manager of said independent gaming store in South Portland. That was, until someone actually called me with a worthwhile offer that I could not refuse. If only to try and maintain my credibility as a professional wrestling asset, rather than actually trying to stick it to anybody.
Then, right before my debut match, I get a call from Seth. For what, at the time, I didn't know. The last thing on my mind was the fact that he restarted the WCF after how he went about the shutdown. I did not expect a "good luck" from him, either. So whatever it was about was going to be a surprise. And I was not mistaken.
Sammy handed me the phone, as he says...
Sammy: It's Seth, and he didn't sound thrilled about the fact that you're about to wrestle in a rival company.
Me: Why did you tell him that, anyways? Not that it's any of his business what I do after he shit-canned me.
Sammy: Here, just take the damn phone. Make it quick. We're on in 2 minutes...
I took the phone and raised it to my ear, as I said...
Me: What's going on, Seth? I'm about to go to work, so make it quick.
Seth: Funny, considering you're still under contract here in the WCF...
Me: You fired everyone, or that was what you made it seem like. I found new work. Does that upset you for some reason?
Seth: The breach of contract bothers me more than anything...
Me: My contract was not exclusive and you know that. Regardless, it doesn't matter right now. The WCF is dead. You made sure that happened...
Seth: Oh, we're not dead. And as a matter of fact, your contract was one of a few I retained during the cleanse that the WCF really needed. Just be in Reading this coming Sunday, or you will be in breach of contract, and I will sue you for everything you have. Now go do your match at whatever shitty fed you've landed in, give them a show, and kindly bow out so you can pay attention to your matters here.
Before I could even react, he hung up the phone, as I stood there in shock. The WCF was open again?
Then the road agent came up and said...
Road Agent: You're on in 30 seconds. Get your shit together.
I nodded, before I put what I just heard out of my head. This wasn't going to be an easy match, to begin with. Getting tossed in the deep end, but now this shit with the WCF?
And people have the audacity to call me "lucky". I'm about as lucky as a broken rabbit's foot. Fuck my life.
Sammy: It's Bates, so what? You know how many people have beaten this guy? Hell, I could probably beat this guy! He's got the knees of Patrick Ewing, for crying out loud!
Back to now. Several days after I had found out that the WCF was starting anew, and kicking off the new era with the WCF Classic Tournament to determine a new World Champion, which I found myself in. Of course, my first obstacle refers to himself as an "Impassable Mountain". Fairly accurate, as Thomas Uriel Bates was indeed a mountain of a man. But this seemed more like a punishment for doing what was best for my fledgling family.
Yes, in case you guys were wondering, Susan and I went to Vegas. We gamed, we didn't get drunk, but we did tie the knot. It was actually while we were there for a show at the other place I signed on with, but it doesn't matter. We're now a REAL family! I was just glad she said yes.
Of course, that happy memory has now been overshadowed by my return to the WCF, to face a guy who's ended more than a few careers in the WCF. And it worried Susan too, as she says...
Susan: Two matches, and an explosion within the fed. Maybe breaching this contract may be worth it. Take it to court, let them know what kind of psychopath you're working for. But this match is absolute madness! And I thought that three-way was going to be horrible, but this?
I've hated what WCF was doing to you before, and it's even worse now! First he uses you to round out his "Family" team, which you were the fucking star of, and now he's tossing you to this... this MONSTER!!! It's like he's just toying with you at his leisure!
Sammy: Well, if anybody said anything about favoritism at this point, they can stuff that statement up their keister slow, deep, and hard! But this is the nature of the business. There's always going to be a giant lurking around in whatever wrestling federation you find yourself in. Any of them worthwhile, anyways.
Me: I suppose, but I've never faced anything like this guy before. Closest I came was Flapjack Favreau, but he wasn't the athlete that Bates is. Honestly, he was just a fat guy fulfilling the role of "Giant", per se...
Sammy: Favreau was doing just that. Speaking of him, he's lost a lot of weight. Got the lap band surgery and everything. Down from 530 to a little over 300 pounds, from what I heard.
Me: Wow! Good for him, I guess. But that doesn't help us with Bates, right now.
Sammy: No, not really. But you remember how you brought him down, right?
Me: It was with a 1-Up. About the only real wrestling move I used on him the entire match. Again, doesn't help with Bates. Never mind his weight, but he stands an entire foot taller than I do. Dragging him to a corner to hit that move? It's about as possible as it is to squeeze blood from a turnip. Sure, I could take out his legs, but one he gets back up, I may be fucked. And there's just no possibility of me slamming this guy down. I just don't have the strength to do it.
Face it. Seth has fucked me good and hard. And what for? Because I found a place that wanted me? And doesn't want to use me as a fucking pawn in their little bullshit power plays with each other?
Susan: Short of hitting Bates with a car, I don't see how you can ground him easily, either. And he's dangerous. I read about Bates' early career in the WCF, and he injured quite a few people. They had to retire. You really want to face this guy?
Me: Believe me, it's not a matter of "want", but a matter of it's going to happen whether I want to or not. God, I wish we were back in Vegas. A few games to take my mind off of this shit...
Sammy: There's a bar downstairs. Maybe a drink or two to take the edge off. No need getting shitfaced over this issue.
Susan: You two have at it. I think I'm going to lay down. And after Mexico, I don't even want to think about drinking again anytime soon...
She leaves the table they were at in their shared suite and moves on to the bedroom. Both James and Sammy watch her go, before she closes the bedroom door behind her. Sammy then says...
Sammy: Is she okay?
Me: She's been like that for a few days, now.
Sammy: Hmm... Well, the bar is calling our name. And there's a few Yuengling's with our names all over them.
Me: Yuengling? Is that beer?
Sammy: Best damn beer ever! Greatest thing about Pennsylvania, truth be told. You'll find out soon enough.
Me: Well, after all of this, I certainly can use a beer or five to try and forget all of this. Maybe I'll wake up and I find out I'm wrestling Norman Bates instead.
We get up from the table to go to the bar downstairs, where I find out about this nectar that is called Yuengling, and I polish off at least a six-pack of this beautiful amber liquid in an attempt to get over this booking SNAFU that is sure to land me at the local hospital if I fuck up bad enough.
I woke up the next day, and looked on the WCF website to see if all of this was indeed just a play on my vision. To my disappointment, Thomas Uriel Bates was still right next to mine on the card. Dread was just filling my body and soul, as this mammoth man has torn through a good portion of the WCF once before, and looked to do it again.
He seemed rather intent on going after Logan and the WCF World Heavyweight Title, and who isn't? I didn't even really consider myself ready for the title, but here I was in the WCF Classic, getting pushed onto that stage. Alas, against the biggest wrestler on the roster as of right now. Again, the thoughts about what my career is going to look like after this match runs through my head. It didn't look very pretty.
I got onto my computer and decided to do a little gaming. Hadn't been on "Champions Online" in awhile, and I was trying to feel a little heroic, or brave, or something to the effect. This game always seemed to have that effect on me whenever I logged in as "Master Dynamite Blue", the mortal Martial Artist that became a hero in his local neighborhood, and expanded from there.
A few minutes into my session, and I get a message from a source that I had forgotten about completely. As a matter of fact, it was from an organization that I had been avoiding, and thus why I had not indulged in online gaming for quite some time...
FluffyTheTerrible: Do you have a status report on DRiddik?
Well, that just about made me lose my shit. I had almost totally forgotten about the NSA spook that had railroaded me into spying on Dag Riddik and his band of terrorists who were bent on overthrowing Scandinavia for whatever baffling reason one would want to screw with those people for. I responded with...
Master Dynamite Blue: Fed shut down, then reopened. Between the shutdown and now, nothing to report.
FluffyTheTerrible: We asked you to stick close to him regardless of any circumstances.
Master Dynamite Blue: Yes, but I also recall a gentleman telling me that I didn't have to be his "buddy" or anything of the sort, either. So once the WCF shut down, I had no reason whatsoever to be involved in anything he did.
FluffyTheTerrible: But the fed is back under operation and in Pennsylvania. We also know that you have been recalled to the WCF. Nothing has changed, as far as we are concerned. Stay close to the subject DRiddik and report as necessary. Are you clear on this?
Ugh, this shit again...
I was hoping they'd find another stooge close to Dag that was willing to rat him out for his transgressions on an international level. I guess I was sadly mistaken. I typed in my response...
Master Dynamite Blue: Fine. I'll continue reporting his movements, but be fast about doing YOUR job.
FluffyTheTerrible: We'll do our best. Congratulations on your marriage, by the way. Forgive us if we do not send a gift.
Master Dynamite Blue: How about "Don't audit or otherwise fuck with my friends and family" sound as a gift?
I don't know if whoever behind the name saw the message or not, but they logged off shortly after I posted my response. Fucking government. "What can you do for your government?" is all I seem to see nowadays since JFK uttered those words years ago long before I was born. Maybe it should be "What can the government force its citizens to do against their will?" That seems more accurate these days.
This meant that despite Trios being over, I may have to get in good with "The Family" once again, unless I make it pretty obvious that I'm following the movements of Dag. Or I could antagonize him and force a feud, but that would be exceptionally dumb, considering how loose of a cannon he is outside of the ring as he is inside of it.
I had many regrets at this point, all involving the WCF. Especially when people are starting to say that I've had everything handed to me on a silver platter. I've been handed nothing but shit sandwiches, forced to eat them, and I'm being told to smile as I do so. Cathy Fitch ring any bells? Glad that cum-dumpster is not back in the WCF! Who needs her bullshit?
Then being stuck in The Family, and dealing with Cousin Logan, who once gave me a Connector as a CHILD! Of course, there's Dag's incessant use of racial slurs against everyone wherever they apply. And Seth? He says he's a fan of my work, but I've angered him because I wasn't going to sit around and wait for the WCF to open back up because I have myself and a potential family to take care of. Being in this match with Bates? Yeah, I was handed this on a silver platter, alright. Basically another shit sandwich.
I log off of Champions Online, no longer feeling brave or heroic, but rather crushed in the soul...
A day later, and I woke up to an empty bed. On her side of the bed was a note, which I reached for and crumpled a bit before I looked it over. It was a note from Susan, that reads...
James,
Haven't been feeling well, as you know. I've went to a doctor to see what is wrong with me. I have an idea, but I do not want to get anybody's hopes up. Or down. Not sure how to feel about this, but it's the only conclusion that I could draw, and I want to verify it with the doctor. It might also explain my moodiness as of late, though that could easily be explained by your mere situation within the WCF.
Anyways, I should be back sometime this afternoon. I know you and Sam will be training for your match with Bates, so I'll see you tonight at dinner. Hopefully I have some good news to share with you.
xoxoxoxo
Susan
I set the note down, as I drew my conclusions on what she expects to hear from the doctor. Truth be told, I hadn't put much thought into fatherhood at this time, but it was a hell of a time for this to come up. My mind was getting pulled in so many directions.
I had recently broken my contract with the other federation. Fortunately, they decided not to pursue breach of contract, as they seemed rather disinterested in my showing at the first match. I'll rack it up to my mind being stretched and not in the match, rather than the robbery that occurred after I put in the work to put that guy on his ass.
Seth was pretty much sentencing me to death by making me face the largest wrestler on the active WCF roster, while being possibly the smallest male competitor on the same roster. All this while ensuring that I stay under his thumb and within The Family, much to my dissatisfaction. The nest of vipers seem to love me, but I have no love for them. Even for my legitimate family, Cousin Logan, who left me a text message sometime in the night that read as so when I checked my phone after reading the note from Susan...
Logan: What's up, Cousin Game? Yes, I knew the whole time you were my cousin. My Mom called and told me about it. I guess your Mom and my Mom are sisters, or something. Who knew?
Logan: Anyways, glad Seth made you part of "The Family". Especially after we put those boudles in the first round out of the tournament. Kinda disappointed the tournament is over. We SOOOOO would have won, I think.
Logan: Have you ditched that other trashcan fed you're in? That's got Seth more pissed than anything. Especially considering he said outright that all The Family contracts were safe. That meant you too, babygurl!
Logan: Oh, and good luck with Bates. It will be difficult, but we all have faith you can topple that boudle trashcan. We got your back, whatever happens.
I guess Seth gave Logan my number. It's the only logical conclusion that I could draw as to how he got it. And he certainly blew up my phone! I must've not heard it after passing out. I had been drinking a lot, thinking about the upcoming match, and what to do about it. The drinking was not helping my cause, but it at least was helping me forget the fact that I'm about to get raped by a man the size of a grizzly come Sunday. And the assurance that The Family has my back? It provided little to no comfort whatsoever. Especially considering the source of said assurances.
A knock on my door interrupted my train of thought. I set the phone down on the bed, pulled on a pair of jeans, and answered the door. Sammy came into the suite, as he says...
Sammy: It's time to train. Why are you not dressed yet?
Me: I'm not feeling so good...
Sammy: Are you hungover still? Or did you drink again last night?
Me: Both. And with all the shit going on with ending the contract with VWS...
Sammy: You ended that contract? Are they suing us?
Me: No. They're not happy about it, but they aren't suing. I think they got who they want going forward. So I solved one problem, but I still got so much other shit to worry about. Susan's at the doctor's.
Sammy: For what? Because she's sick? Dude, I think she's pregnant...
Me: I think so, too. But again, more shit to think about. Then there's the NSA, The Family...
Sammy: NSA? Are you starting to become a conspiracy theorist and I not know about it?
Me: They want me to tail Dag Riddik and let them know his movements. Probably to include his bowel movements, but they can get that from another source...
Sammy: Why would they ask you to monitor his movements?
Me: Something about overthrowing Scandinavian governments, and ties to some Norwegian Hell's Angels Crime Syndicate, or some shit like that. It's either do it, or you and everyone I care about can expect to get audited by the IRS for the rest of your life. And God knows what other shit they'll do to us just to make our lives suck.
Sammy: Fucking government. Supposed to look out for us, not exploit us at a whim. Why didn't you tell me about this before?
Me: What were you going to do about it? Same thing I can do about it, which is nothing. Except bitch about it. And of course, Seth wants me dead and has booked me against Bates...
Sammy: Fuck Bates! This NSA thing is more serious than that! Is that why you haven't really been fighting the whole "being part of The Family" thing?
Me: Pretty much. I hate them all, and I'm miserable, but at least it gets the government off of my dick while I feed them whatever information I can to them about what Dag is doing.
Sammy: Well, you know Bates is gunning for The Family. But mostly because he wants that Title, and he wants to feel like he's the Sheriff of WCF, or some shit like that. He's going to try and make an example out of you. And if you keep this shit up, he's going to succeed. We've watched his tapes, and other smaller guys have managed to exploit his weaknesses and get wins over him. You will be no fucking different if I have anything to say about it.
Me: I know he wants to tear The Family a new asshole, and become World Champion to do it...
Sammy: So if you really want to get in good with them, you gotta quit drinking, drop the attitude, and get on board with flooring Bates with everything you got! You drop that clown, and you're in with The Family from here on in! No questions asked! But you gotta get to training! You're going to have to move faster and more sure of yourself than ever before! Like I said, Patrick Ewing knees, they're going to buckle under all that weight! You might have to get a little dirty, ain't gonna lie...
Me: No. I want him clean. So that everyone on the planet can't say that I did him dirty, or that The Family is carrying me, or none of that shit!
Sammy: Good luck with that, but you're going to have to hit fast, hard, and get the fuck outta the way for that to fly. And we're going to get to training on it RIGHT NOW. Hell, if you can pull it off hungover, then when the match comes and you're sober, you should make that clown dizzy enough he may just fall over from exhaustion trying to catch up with you!
Sammy had valid points. I was much faster than Bates. And while he had a huge repertoire of moves at his disposal, they were mostly power moves, brawling moves, or defensive moves. SLOW MOVES that required his opponent to be caught standing still, or unable to move out of said predicaments.
I nodded my head, as I walked back into the bedroom of the suite. Sammy calls after me, asking...
Sammy: What the hell? Where are you going?
I didn't answer him, but instead threw on a shirt and hoodie, and grabbed my gym bag. As I heard him come towards the bedroom, I opened the door and let him see me with my bag, as I say...
Me: Let's go to the gym. We have a match to train for.
I brushed past him, as I could feel a smile creep across his face. I don't know. But he was right, and my whining about this situation was NOT going to help me win this day. The only way to help us all was to put everything I had into this match. For the sake of my wife, best friend, future/potential kid, and even the United States Government and all its social conspiracies.
And with it being the WCF Classic, it was either do or die. I may die, but I will not die easily.
I had assumed my position as usual. Waiting for the next match to start. My match, as I saw Bates across the backstage area, also waiting for the match. He was just as much in deep thought as I was going into this match. I'd heard what he said about me in regards to my skill level and his confidence in this match, but the look on his face told the real story. He was just as worried as I was going into this match.
But looking at him with the look on his face was still not helping me feel any more confident going into this match. I instead tried to just look at a part of the wall, and let myself zone out and get into my own little world. The one where despite his massive size and strength, he still cannot handle my speed and what some would call unorthodox offense. The world where he cannot keep up with me, and I whittle him down to my height just long enough so I can kick his head into the cheap seats. The world where his own world goes upside down, and cannot exist in my own world.
Then Hank Brown walks up to me, and starts talking to me. At first, I wasn't paying attention. I was still focused in my own world, but then he touches me on the shoulder, and says...
Hank Brown: Game! You alright man?
Me: I was. Can I help you with something?
Hank: I had a few questions about your feelings on the match tonight, but first, I do believe congratulations are in order for you...
Me: For what?
Hank: You're going to be a father, if I heard correctly.
Me: Oh, thank you! It's still kinda new to me, and I've got my concerns, but hopefully I don't screw up my kid like my parents screwed me up.
Hank: Uh, okay... So, with a child on the way, your contract issues with the WCF and some other fed that I was told about, but forgot the name already over with, and the support of The Family behind you, how do you feel about your chances against Bates tonight?
Me: Dude, I'm facing Bates! I don't think anybody on the roster would be thrilled at the prospect of facing that man down across the ring from them. And if they are, they're either high on meth, or just plain stupid. Speaking of which, are we still not drug testing?
Hank: I don't think so. I'm here, right?
Me: Good point. But the thing is that I'm not crazy or stupid, regardless of what everyone wants to think of me. Or is it that everyone still thinks that I'm being handed everything? Or riding the coattails of The Family? Because anybody that thinks that I'm getting handed some sort of sweet deal tonight can blow that thought straight outta their ass! But I'm not going to complain, but instead, I think I'll take a look at history.
Did you know Bates has a Masters Degree in History?
Hank: Uh... I know he has some sort of degree...
Me: Well, he does. I didn't get to go to college, because I was born poor white trash and didn't have a Mommy or Daddy that was special enough to get into professional wrestling because my parents were fairly normal people. Well, Dad went to prison, and Mom's kind special. She does art and makes decent money at it, but yeah, didn't get a free ride for anything, and that includes... No, that's ESPECIALLY in the world of Professional Wrestling!
Maybe people didn't get the fucking memo, but I worked my fucking ass off to get here. 8 goddamn years taking shit off of executives and interviewers because of my size and stature. And now that I'm here, I'll be damned if some slack-jawed schmuck who thinks he's some sort of legacy is going to kick me back down the mountain without a fight!
Sure, that monster may be a foot taller and almost 300 pounds heavier than me, but I'll make sure before the night is over, win lose or draw, he's going to remember my name for the rest of his life! Whether that is the 60 seconds he struggles to keep breathing before his lungs pop, or for the next 60 years where he ponders each and every day "What went wrong?" during the match! Because if History teaches us nothing else, it's that sometimes the small guy can win the day, and eventually rule the world.
Don't believe me? How about we ask the Spanish about that! Yeah, Spain was all big and bad back in the day. Full backing of the Catholic Church, and was essentially bullying every Western European country into doing whatever the hell it wanted them to do. That was, until a certain Queen decided she didn't want to marry the douchebag that was running Spain. So what does the King of Spain do? He sends his Armada after Britain in an effort to overpower the country and bring it to heel.
Do you know how that worked out for the Spanish?
Hank: Uh... I think I know...
Me: It didn't work out so well for them, Hank. The British managed to repel the Spanish Armada into a storm that wiped out over a third of the Spanish fleet. And this with a smaller fleet, but with superior ships and guns. But I'm certain that Bates already knew that. Given that he's a historian and such.
Maybe I should tell another history lesson, with more Biblical overtones. You know which story I'm talking about. Hell, I'm certain I saw on Twitter that everyone is billing this match as a REAL David and Goliath match. Literally, this would be a situation and match-up that calls for such a comparison.
Hank: Yeah, I had David and Goliath in my notes...
Me: Well, long story short, David felled the giant with a singular stone cast from a slingshot directly into the brain pan of Goliath, after he swung about with his big ass sword and his armor weighing him down. Basically David wore the behemoth man down, waited for him to stop moving around so much, before he cast the stone that sealed his fate into the bestselling piece of literature in the Christian world today!
Hank: Well, I do see the Bible every time I go to a hotel room nowadays. But I heard that some hotels are getting rid of them for fear of offending people...
Me: That sounds like a personal problem for hotels. If they were smart, they'd just have a Quran added to the standard literature in every hotel room. Just so all the Abrahamic religions can stop bitching, and all the Eastern Religions can feel the sting of being ostracized instead! But that's just my crazy way of thinking. Probably politically incorrect, but like I care what politicians think.
Speaking of Eastern religions and philosophies, I decided to play myself some Dynasty Warriors a few days ago and one of the features of that game is that you can select an officer and play out the battles that made them famous for their time. And one of my favorite generals to play as is Zhang Liao. Zhang Liao had served under several different warlords during his lifetime. To include Ding Yuan, who was murdered by Dong Zhuo and Lu Bu. Zhang Liao wound up serving under both of those men. First Dong Zhuo, before he was murdered, ironically enough, by Lu Bu. Later on, Lu Bu, considered the greatest warrior of that particular time, was captured and killed for his treacherous life.
After Lu Bu was executed, he became a general to Cao Cao, and had a mostly successful career as a general in his service. Much of this has to do with Cao Cao being a much more competent leader than his previous lords, but that's besides the point. But despite his successes, he is most known for winning a major battle against Sun Quan, himself a descendant of the man who authored "The Art of War", Sun Tzu. That battle being the Battle of Xiaoyao.
The battle is significant to this situation, because when the battle began, Sun Quan had a massive army. We're talking over a hundred thousand soldiers, compared to the 7,000 that Zhang Liao had at his disposal. Pretty staggering odds, yes?
Hank: Math is not my strongest subject, but yeah. Sounds like a bad time for Zhang Liao.
Me: But the thing about such large armies is that they take time to set up and move into position. A smaller army is easier to organize, and there was no setting up, because they had the home field advantage. So take a wild guess what Zhang Liao does?
Hank: Well, he HAS to fight. That's not much of an option...
Me: He does, but he uses the terrain and land to his advantage. He takes 800 of his most die hard soldiers out of the 7,000 strong that he has, and he goes and harasses the hell out of Sun Quan's army. In the process, he defeated way more men than he brought out with him. He lost 700 of those 800 men, but in the process, crushed the morale and spirit of the much larger army. Many of Sun Quan's soldiers deserted during the battle, and many more died in the process. To include some of Sun Quan's more significant officers that he held great trust in.
After that skirmish, Sun Quan's army went to performing a siege on Hefei, but it proved to be a futile effort. The previous occupants of Hefei had built some incredible walls and defenses for the city, and a plague broke out among Sun Quan's soldiers. This forced Sun Quan to withdraw from the siege. But Zhang Liao was far from done with Sun Quan.
As the army moved away, the last units to move was Sun Quan's own unit, which consisted of 1,000 of his personal bodyguards. Yeah, that's a lot of bodyguards. Kind of how Bates had that DRG group as his own personal bodyguards? Well, to drive home the fact that they came and egged the wrong house, Zhang Liao and the other generals within Hefei came out and engaged in a battle against the 1,000 men left behind. Sure, Sun Quan tried to rally his troops that had already retreated to his ships, but they were slow to move, and very few other units could come and assist their liege.
This move almost resulted in the capture of Sun Quan, which would have spelled certain doom for the Kingdom of Wu. But instead, Zhang Liao would have to settle for being the most feared Wei General in the East by the Kingdom of Wu, as he lost only 700 men in comparison to the 1,300 that Sun Quan lost in said battle. To include very important generals and officers to his cause. All of this because Sun Quan thought that his mere numbers would win over the day. But not only did the "Little Guy" stand up to him early on, but he also caused the bigger army many longstanding problems that they could not overcome because of the losses sustained. Yes, they only lost 600 more men, but among that 600 men was Chen Wu, a long-standing Wu general that served with Sun Quan's elder brother.
Do you get where I'm going with all of these instances in history, Hank?
Hank: That size doesn't matter?
Me: Oh it counts for something, but not physically. Sure it helps, but sometimes it can hurt just as much. Like in the case of Bates, he's going to hope and pray he hits me with something quick, and that'll be the end to his night. He will be sadly mistaken on trying to rely on a one punch knockout against me. But a guy like him, a giant? That's where they tend to go for first.
Well Bates, make no mistake about this. I will NOT be an easy target for you. Hell, you said that this isn't a game? Again, you are once again sadly mistaken. Hell, I have the perfect name for this game for you. This night will be your very own variation of "Whack a Mole". Instead, you're going to try to "Whack a James", instead. Only James doesn't just prairie dog in and out of a little hole, but instead I will be all over that damned ring, making you work for everything you think is coming to you because you were born to that ring.
I may have not been born to that ring, but I sure as hell do not have the audacity or the arrogance to think that I will not be working for everything that I gain inside of it like you obviously have. No, instead, I'm going to have to work for every inch of this match. My goal is to drive you batshit insane, as you try to swat at flies that aren't there! And just like with Goliath, as soon as I catch you standing still, it'll be GAME OVER for you!!! You will want to RAGE QUIT when you realize that you've bitten off more than you can chew in this upcoming match!
Yes, I know. You can't wait to get into the ring with me, to make me an example to show "The Family" that you mean business. Well, "The Family" is one thing, but I am just one person inside of that ring. You overlook me, and you're going to pay for it. I will make you pay, with blood, sweat, tears, and every muscle in your body screaming at you tomorrow morning when you wake up. You think your problems are with "The Family"? Again, you are sadly mistaken. You've entered a game that relies on you taking it seriously, and thus far, you have not. And you are going to pay for that lack of respect you've showed me thus far!
Thomas Uriel Bates, you say this is not a game? Well I disagree. As far as I'm concerned, it's GAME ON from here! History aside, you are going to find out firsthand what it feels like to be beaten by a physically "inferior" opponent, and you will become part of history that proves that not all the big guys win the day!
So come play me, if you dare... I'll be out in that ring waiting for you!
I then walked away from Hank, now allowing for him to get in a retort in response to my own shots called against Bates.
Sure, some of that may have been some hot air being thrown out, but I'll be damned if he thinks I'm quaking in my boots at the thought of facing him. Maybe he heard me, or maybe he didn't, it doesn't matter. If he did hear me, then good. Maybe it'll throw him into a rage and he makes a mistake faster for me to capitalize on. Wishful thinking on my part, but who knows?
I moved further away from the staging area, trying like hell to regain my focus. My Zen, or whatever some call it. Battle mindset? Either way, before I could find that "zone", I hear the music playing. The call of the ring beckons me to it. I just shake my head, as I press everything in my mind to the back of it. I focus on the music, before I walk myself to the stage. I have to keep reminding myself to breathe, and Sammy says something at the curtain that resembles the same thing, before I pull the curtain aside, and move into the darkened arena, with the red and green lasers cutting through the air...
The crowd screams and cheers as I walk on to the stage, with Sammy in tow. This was all the proof that I needed. It was indeed, GAME TIME! And either Death or Glory awaits me at the other end...
Here's hoping for GLORY!!!
I had just found out about who I was going to face in the first round of the WCF Classic tournament that Seth Lerch was using to kick off the "new" WCF, after ridding it of many people he had issues with from the top on down. Truth be told, I thought I was one of the many who got the ax after he tossed all of those contracts in the air. I mean, I was just a rookie two matches into my career there. Why was I going to be retained for anything special?
Well, after the implosion that happened in Mexico City, I went back to Portland, expecting no fanfare whatsoever as I returned back to Natural 20 and what has now turned into a standing job working as the assistant manager of said independent gaming store in South Portland. That was, until someone actually called me with a worthwhile offer that I could not refuse. If only to try and maintain my credibility as a professional wrestling asset, rather than actually trying to stick it to anybody.
Then, right before my debut match, I get a call from Seth. For what, at the time, I didn't know. The last thing on my mind was the fact that he restarted the WCF after how he went about the shutdown. I did not expect a "good luck" from him, either. So whatever it was about was going to be a surprise. And I was not mistaken.
Sammy handed me the phone, as he says...
Sammy: It's Seth, and he didn't sound thrilled about the fact that you're about to wrestle in a rival company.
Me: Why did you tell him that, anyways? Not that it's any of his business what I do after he shit-canned me.
Sammy: Here, just take the damn phone. Make it quick. We're on in 2 minutes...
I took the phone and raised it to my ear, as I said...
Me: What's going on, Seth? I'm about to go to work, so make it quick.
Seth: Funny, considering you're still under contract here in the WCF...
Me: You fired everyone, or that was what you made it seem like. I found new work. Does that upset you for some reason?
Seth: The breach of contract bothers me more than anything...
Me: My contract was not exclusive and you know that. Regardless, it doesn't matter right now. The WCF is dead. You made sure that happened...
Seth: Oh, we're not dead. And as a matter of fact, your contract was one of a few I retained during the cleanse that the WCF really needed. Just be in Reading this coming Sunday, or you will be in breach of contract, and I will sue you for everything you have. Now go do your match at whatever shitty fed you've landed in, give them a show, and kindly bow out so you can pay attention to your matters here.
Before I could even react, he hung up the phone, as I stood there in shock. The WCF was open again?
Then the road agent came up and said...
Road Agent: You're on in 30 seconds. Get your shit together.
I nodded, before I put what I just heard out of my head. This wasn't going to be an easy match, to begin with. Getting tossed in the deep end, but now this shit with the WCF?
And people have the audacity to call me "lucky". I'm about as lucky as a broken rabbit's foot. Fuck my life.
Sammy: It's Bates, so what? You know how many people have beaten this guy? Hell, I could probably beat this guy! He's got the knees of Patrick Ewing, for crying out loud!
Back to now. Several days after I had found out that the WCF was starting anew, and kicking off the new era with the WCF Classic Tournament to determine a new World Champion, which I found myself in. Of course, my first obstacle refers to himself as an "Impassable Mountain". Fairly accurate, as Thomas Uriel Bates was indeed a mountain of a man. But this seemed more like a punishment for doing what was best for my fledgling family.
Yes, in case you guys were wondering, Susan and I went to Vegas. We gamed, we didn't get drunk, but we did tie the knot. It was actually while we were there for a show at the other place I signed on with, but it doesn't matter. We're now a REAL family! I was just glad she said yes.
Of course, that happy memory has now been overshadowed by my return to the WCF, to face a guy who's ended more than a few careers in the WCF. And it worried Susan too, as she says...
Susan: Two matches, and an explosion within the fed. Maybe breaching this contract may be worth it. Take it to court, let them know what kind of psychopath you're working for. But this match is absolute madness! And I thought that three-way was going to be horrible, but this?
I've hated what WCF was doing to you before, and it's even worse now! First he uses you to round out his "Family" team, which you were the fucking star of, and now he's tossing you to this... this MONSTER!!! It's like he's just toying with you at his leisure!
Sammy: Well, if anybody said anything about favoritism at this point, they can stuff that statement up their keister slow, deep, and hard! But this is the nature of the business. There's always going to be a giant lurking around in whatever wrestling federation you find yourself in. Any of them worthwhile, anyways.
Me: I suppose, but I've never faced anything like this guy before. Closest I came was Flapjack Favreau, but he wasn't the athlete that Bates is. Honestly, he was just a fat guy fulfilling the role of "Giant", per se...
Sammy: Favreau was doing just that. Speaking of him, he's lost a lot of weight. Got the lap band surgery and everything. Down from 530 to a little over 300 pounds, from what I heard.
Me: Wow! Good for him, I guess. But that doesn't help us with Bates, right now.
Sammy: No, not really. But you remember how you brought him down, right?
Me: It was with a 1-Up. About the only real wrestling move I used on him the entire match. Again, doesn't help with Bates. Never mind his weight, but he stands an entire foot taller than I do. Dragging him to a corner to hit that move? It's about as possible as it is to squeeze blood from a turnip. Sure, I could take out his legs, but one he gets back up, I may be fucked. And there's just no possibility of me slamming this guy down. I just don't have the strength to do it.
Face it. Seth has fucked me good and hard. And what for? Because I found a place that wanted me? And doesn't want to use me as a fucking pawn in their little bullshit power plays with each other?
Susan: Short of hitting Bates with a car, I don't see how you can ground him easily, either. And he's dangerous. I read about Bates' early career in the WCF, and he injured quite a few people. They had to retire. You really want to face this guy?
Me: Believe me, it's not a matter of "want", but a matter of it's going to happen whether I want to or not. God, I wish we were back in Vegas. A few games to take my mind off of this shit...
Sammy: There's a bar downstairs. Maybe a drink or two to take the edge off. No need getting shitfaced over this issue.
Susan: You two have at it. I think I'm going to lay down. And after Mexico, I don't even want to think about drinking again anytime soon...
She leaves the table they were at in their shared suite and moves on to the bedroom. Both James and Sammy watch her go, before she closes the bedroom door behind her. Sammy then says...
Sammy: Is she okay?
Me: She's been like that for a few days, now.
Sammy: Hmm... Well, the bar is calling our name. And there's a few Yuengling's with our names all over them.
Me: Yuengling? Is that beer?
Sammy: Best damn beer ever! Greatest thing about Pennsylvania, truth be told. You'll find out soon enough.
Me: Well, after all of this, I certainly can use a beer or five to try and forget all of this. Maybe I'll wake up and I find out I'm wrestling Norman Bates instead.
We get up from the table to go to the bar downstairs, where I find out about this nectar that is called Yuengling, and I polish off at least a six-pack of this beautiful amber liquid in an attempt to get over this booking SNAFU that is sure to land me at the local hospital if I fuck up bad enough.
I woke up the next day, and looked on the WCF website to see if all of this was indeed just a play on my vision. To my disappointment, Thomas Uriel Bates was still right next to mine on the card. Dread was just filling my body and soul, as this mammoth man has torn through a good portion of the WCF once before, and looked to do it again.
He seemed rather intent on going after Logan and the WCF World Heavyweight Title, and who isn't? I didn't even really consider myself ready for the title, but here I was in the WCF Classic, getting pushed onto that stage. Alas, against the biggest wrestler on the roster as of right now. Again, the thoughts about what my career is going to look like after this match runs through my head. It didn't look very pretty.
I got onto my computer and decided to do a little gaming. Hadn't been on "Champions Online" in awhile, and I was trying to feel a little heroic, or brave, or something to the effect. This game always seemed to have that effect on me whenever I logged in as "Master Dynamite Blue", the mortal Martial Artist that became a hero in his local neighborhood, and expanded from there.
A few minutes into my session, and I get a message from a source that I had forgotten about completely. As a matter of fact, it was from an organization that I had been avoiding, and thus why I had not indulged in online gaming for quite some time...
FluffyTheTerrible: Do you have a status report on DRiddik?
Well, that just about made me lose my shit. I had almost totally forgotten about the NSA spook that had railroaded me into spying on Dag Riddik and his band of terrorists who were bent on overthrowing Scandinavia for whatever baffling reason one would want to screw with those people for. I responded with...
Master Dynamite Blue: Fed shut down, then reopened. Between the shutdown and now, nothing to report.
FluffyTheTerrible: We asked you to stick close to him regardless of any circumstances.
Master Dynamite Blue: Yes, but I also recall a gentleman telling me that I didn't have to be his "buddy" or anything of the sort, either. So once the WCF shut down, I had no reason whatsoever to be involved in anything he did.
FluffyTheTerrible: But the fed is back under operation and in Pennsylvania. We also know that you have been recalled to the WCF. Nothing has changed, as far as we are concerned. Stay close to the subject DRiddik and report as necessary. Are you clear on this?
Ugh, this shit again...
I was hoping they'd find another stooge close to Dag that was willing to rat him out for his transgressions on an international level. I guess I was sadly mistaken. I typed in my response...
Master Dynamite Blue: Fine. I'll continue reporting his movements, but be fast about doing YOUR job.
FluffyTheTerrible: We'll do our best. Congratulations on your marriage, by the way. Forgive us if we do not send a gift.
Master Dynamite Blue: How about "Don't audit or otherwise fuck with my friends and family" sound as a gift?
I don't know if whoever behind the name saw the message or not, but they logged off shortly after I posted my response. Fucking government. "What can you do for your government?" is all I seem to see nowadays since JFK uttered those words years ago long before I was born. Maybe it should be "What can the government force its citizens to do against their will?" That seems more accurate these days.
This meant that despite Trios being over, I may have to get in good with "The Family" once again, unless I make it pretty obvious that I'm following the movements of Dag. Or I could antagonize him and force a feud, but that would be exceptionally dumb, considering how loose of a cannon he is outside of the ring as he is inside of it.
I had many regrets at this point, all involving the WCF. Especially when people are starting to say that I've had everything handed to me on a silver platter. I've been handed nothing but shit sandwiches, forced to eat them, and I'm being told to smile as I do so. Cathy Fitch ring any bells? Glad that cum-dumpster is not back in the WCF! Who needs her bullshit?
Then being stuck in The Family, and dealing with Cousin Logan, who once gave me a Connector as a CHILD! Of course, there's Dag's incessant use of racial slurs against everyone wherever they apply. And Seth? He says he's a fan of my work, but I've angered him because I wasn't going to sit around and wait for the WCF to open back up because I have myself and a potential family to take care of. Being in this match with Bates? Yeah, I was handed this on a silver platter, alright. Basically another shit sandwich.
I log off of Champions Online, no longer feeling brave or heroic, but rather crushed in the soul...
A day later, and I woke up to an empty bed. On her side of the bed was a note, which I reached for and crumpled a bit before I looked it over. It was a note from Susan, that reads...
James,
Haven't been feeling well, as you know. I've went to a doctor to see what is wrong with me. I have an idea, but I do not want to get anybody's hopes up. Or down. Not sure how to feel about this, but it's the only conclusion that I could draw, and I want to verify it with the doctor. It might also explain my moodiness as of late, though that could easily be explained by your mere situation within the WCF.
Anyways, I should be back sometime this afternoon. I know you and Sam will be training for your match with Bates, so I'll see you tonight at dinner. Hopefully I have some good news to share with you.
xoxoxoxo
Susan
I set the note down, as I drew my conclusions on what she expects to hear from the doctor. Truth be told, I hadn't put much thought into fatherhood at this time, but it was a hell of a time for this to come up. My mind was getting pulled in so many directions.
I had recently broken my contract with the other federation. Fortunately, they decided not to pursue breach of contract, as they seemed rather disinterested in my showing at the first match. I'll rack it up to my mind being stretched and not in the match, rather than the robbery that occurred after I put in the work to put that guy on his ass.
Seth was pretty much sentencing me to death by making me face the largest wrestler on the active WCF roster, while being possibly the smallest male competitor on the same roster. All this while ensuring that I stay under his thumb and within The Family, much to my dissatisfaction. The nest of vipers seem to love me, but I have no love for them. Even for my legitimate family, Cousin Logan, who left me a text message sometime in the night that read as so when I checked my phone after reading the note from Susan...
Logan: What's up, Cousin Game? Yes, I knew the whole time you were my cousin. My Mom called and told me about it. I guess your Mom and my Mom are sisters, or something. Who knew?
Logan: Anyways, glad Seth made you part of "The Family". Especially after we put those boudles in the first round out of the tournament. Kinda disappointed the tournament is over. We SOOOOO would have won, I think.
Logan: Have you ditched that other trashcan fed you're in? That's got Seth more pissed than anything. Especially considering he said outright that all The Family contracts were safe. That meant you too, babygurl!
Logan: Oh, and good luck with Bates. It will be difficult, but we all have faith you can topple that boudle trashcan. We got your back, whatever happens.
I guess Seth gave Logan my number. It's the only logical conclusion that I could draw as to how he got it. And he certainly blew up my phone! I must've not heard it after passing out. I had been drinking a lot, thinking about the upcoming match, and what to do about it. The drinking was not helping my cause, but it at least was helping me forget the fact that I'm about to get raped by a man the size of a grizzly come Sunday. And the assurance that The Family has my back? It provided little to no comfort whatsoever. Especially considering the source of said assurances.
A knock on my door interrupted my train of thought. I set the phone down on the bed, pulled on a pair of jeans, and answered the door. Sammy came into the suite, as he says...
Sammy: It's time to train. Why are you not dressed yet?
Me: I'm not feeling so good...
Sammy: Are you hungover still? Or did you drink again last night?
Me: Both. And with all the shit going on with ending the contract with VWS...
Sammy: You ended that contract? Are they suing us?
Me: No. They're not happy about it, but they aren't suing. I think they got who they want going forward. So I solved one problem, but I still got so much other shit to worry about. Susan's at the doctor's.
Sammy: For what? Because she's sick? Dude, I think she's pregnant...
Me: I think so, too. But again, more shit to think about. Then there's the NSA, The Family...
Sammy: NSA? Are you starting to become a conspiracy theorist and I not know about it?
Me: They want me to tail Dag Riddik and let them know his movements. Probably to include his bowel movements, but they can get that from another source...
Sammy: Why would they ask you to monitor his movements?
Me: Something about overthrowing Scandinavian governments, and ties to some Norwegian Hell's Angels Crime Syndicate, or some shit like that. It's either do it, or you and everyone I care about can expect to get audited by the IRS for the rest of your life. And God knows what other shit they'll do to us just to make our lives suck.
Sammy: Fucking government. Supposed to look out for us, not exploit us at a whim. Why didn't you tell me about this before?
Me: What were you going to do about it? Same thing I can do about it, which is nothing. Except bitch about it. And of course, Seth wants me dead and has booked me against Bates...
Sammy: Fuck Bates! This NSA thing is more serious than that! Is that why you haven't really been fighting the whole "being part of The Family" thing?
Me: Pretty much. I hate them all, and I'm miserable, but at least it gets the government off of my dick while I feed them whatever information I can to them about what Dag is doing.
Sammy: Well, you know Bates is gunning for The Family. But mostly because he wants that Title, and he wants to feel like he's the Sheriff of WCF, or some shit like that. He's going to try and make an example out of you. And if you keep this shit up, he's going to succeed. We've watched his tapes, and other smaller guys have managed to exploit his weaknesses and get wins over him. You will be no fucking different if I have anything to say about it.
Me: I know he wants to tear The Family a new asshole, and become World Champion to do it...
Sammy: So if you really want to get in good with them, you gotta quit drinking, drop the attitude, and get on board with flooring Bates with everything you got! You drop that clown, and you're in with The Family from here on in! No questions asked! But you gotta get to training! You're going to have to move faster and more sure of yourself than ever before! Like I said, Patrick Ewing knees, they're going to buckle under all that weight! You might have to get a little dirty, ain't gonna lie...
Me: No. I want him clean. So that everyone on the planet can't say that I did him dirty, or that The Family is carrying me, or none of that shit!
Sammy: Good luck with that, but you're going to have to hit fast, hard, and get the fuck outta the way for that to fly. And we're going to get to training on it RIGHT NOW. Hell, if you can pull it off hungover, then when the match comes and you're sober, you should make that clown dizzy enough he may just fall over from exhaustion trying to catch up with you!
Sammy had valid points. I was much faster than Bates. And while he had a huge repertoire of moves at his disposal, they were mostly power moves, brawling moves, or defensive moves. SLOW MOVES that required his opponent to be caught standing still, or unable to move out of said predicaments.
I nodded my head, as I walked back into the bedroom of the suite. Sammy calls after me, asking...
Sammy: What the hell? Where are you going?
I didn't answer him, but instead threw on a shirt and hoodie, and grabbed my gym bag. As I heard him come towards the bedroom, I opened the door and let him see me with my bag, as I say...
Me: Let's go to the gym. We have a match to train for.
I brushed past him, as I could feel a smile creep across his face. I don't know. But he was right, and my whining about this situation was NOT going to help me win this day. The only way to help us all was to put everything I had into this match. For the sake of my wife, best friend, future/potential kid, and even the United States Government and all its social conspiracies.
And with it being the WCF Classic, it was either do or die. I may die, but I will not die easily.
I had assumed my position as usual. Waiting for the next match to start. My match, as I saw Bates across the backstage area, also waiting for the match. He was just as much in deep thought as I was going into this match. I'd heard what he said about me in regards to my skill level and his confidence in this match, but the look on his face told the real story. He was just as worried as I was going into this match.
But looking at him with the look on his face was still not helping me feel any more confident going into this match. I instead tried to just look at a part of the wall, and let myself zone out and get into my own little world. The one where despite his massive size and strength, he still cannot handle my speed and what some would call unorthodox offense. The world where he cannot keep up with me, and I whittle him down to my height just long enough so I can kick his head into the cheap seats. The world where his own world goes upside down, and cannot exist in my own world.
Then Hank Brown walks up to me, and starts talking to me. At first, I wasn't paying attention. I was still focused in my own world, but then he touches me on the shoulder, and says...
Hank Brown: Game! You alright man?
Me: I was. Can I help you with something?
Hank: I had a few questions about your feelings on the match tonight, but first, I do believe congratulations are in order for you...
Me: For what?
Hank: You're going to be a father, if I heard correctly.
Me: Oh, thank you! It's still kinda new to me, and I've got my concerns, but hopefully I don't screw up my kid like my parents screwed me up.
Hank: Uh, okay... So, with a child on the way, your contract issues with the WCF and some other fed that I was told about, but forgot the name already over with, and the support of The Family behind you, how do you feel about your chances against Bates tonight?
Me: Dude, I'm facing Bates! I don't think anybody on the roster would be thrilled at the prospect of facing that man down across the ring from them. And if they are, they're either high on meth, or just plain stupid. Speaking of which, are we still not drug testing?
Hank: I don't think so. I'm here, right?
Me: Good point. But the thing is that I'm not crazy or stupid, regardless of what everyone wants to think of me. Or is it that everyone still thinks that I'm being handed everything? Or riding the coattails of The Family? Because anybody that thinks that I'm getting handed some sort of sweet deal tonight can blow that thought straight outta their ass! But I'm not going to complain, but instead, I think I'll take a look at history.
Did you know Bates has a Masters Degree in History?
Hank: Uh... I know he has some sort of degree...
Me: Well, he does. I didn't get to go to college, because I was born poor white trash and didn't have a Mommy or Daddy that was special enough to get into professional wrestling because my parents were fairly normal people. Well, Dad went to prison, and Mom's kind special. She does art and makes decent money at it, but yeah, didn't get a free ride for anything, and that includes... No, that's ESPECIALLY in the world of Professional Wrestling!
Maybe people didn't get the fucking memo, but I worked my fucking ass off to get here. 8 goddamn years taking shit off of executives and interviewers because of my size and stature. And now that I'm here, I'll be damned if some slack-jawed schmuck who thinks he's some sort of legacy is going to kick me back down the mountain without a fight!
Sure, that monster may be a foot taller and almost 300 pounds heavier than me, but I'll make sure before the night is over, win lose or draw, he's going to remember my name for the rest of his life! Whether that is the 60 seconds he struggles to keep breathing before his lungs pop, or for the next 60 years where he ponders each and every day "What went wrong?" during the match! Because if History teaches us nothing else, it's that sometimes the small guy can win the day, and eventually rule the world.
Don't believe me? How about we ask the Spanish about that! Yeah, Spain was all big and bad back in the day. Full backing of the Catholic Church, and was essentially bullying every Western European country into doing whatever the hell it wanted them to do. That was, until a certain Queen decided she didn't want to marry the douchebag that was running Spain. So what does the King of Spain do? He sends his Armada after Britain in an effort to overpower the country and bring it to heel.
Do you know how that worked out for the Spanish?
Hank: Uh... I think I know...
Me: It didn't work out so well for them, Hank. The British managed to repel the Spanish Armada into a storm that wiped out over a third of the Spanish fleet. And this with a smaller fleet, but with superior ships and guns. But I'm certain that Bates already knew that. Given that he's a historian and such.
Maybe I should tell another history lesson, with more Biblical overtones. You know which story I'm talking about. Hell, I'm certain I saw on Twitter that everyone is billing this match as a REAL David and Goliath match. Literally, this would be a situation and match-up that calls for such a comparison.
Hank: Yeah, I had David and Goliath in my notes...
Me: Well, long story short, David felled the giant with a singular stone cast from a slingshot directly into the brain pan of Goliath, after he swung about with his big ass sword and his armor weighing him down. Basically David wore the behemoth man down, waited for him to stop moving around so much, before he cast the stone that sealed his fate into the bestselling piece of literature in the Christian world today!
Hank: Well, I do see the Bible every time I go to a hotel room nowadays. But I heard that some hotels are getting rid of them for fear of offending people...
Me: That sounds like a personal problem for hotels. If they were smart, they'd just have a Quran added to the standard literature in every hotel room. Just so all the Abrahamic religions can stop bitching, and all the Eastern Religions can feel the sting of being ostracized instead! But that's just my crazy way of thinking. Probably politically incorrect, but like I care what politicians think.
Speaking of Eastern religions and philosophies, I decided to play myself some Dynasty Warriors a few days ago and one of the features of that game is that you can select an officer and play out the battles that made them famous for their time. And one of my favorite generals to play as is Zhang Liao. Zhang Liao had served under several different warlords during his lifetime. To include Ding Yuan, who was murdered by Dong Zhuo and Lu Bu. Zhang Liao wound up serving under both of those men. First Dong Zhuo, before he was murdered, ironically enough, by Lu Bu. Later on, Lu Bu, considered the greatest warrior of that particular time, was captured and killed for his treacherous life.
After Lu Bu was executed, he became a general to Cao Cao, and had a mostly successful career as a general in his service. Much of this has to do with Cao Cao being a much more competent leader than his previous lords, but that's besides the point. But despite his successes, he is most known for winning a major battle against Sun Quan, himself a descendant of the man who authored "The Art of War", Sun Tzu. That battle being the Battle of Xiaoyao.
The battle is significant to this situation, because when the battle began, Sun Quan had a massive army. We're talking over a hundred thousand soldiers, compared to the 7,000 that Zhang Liao had at his disposal. Pretty staggering odds, yes?
Hank: Math is not my strongest subject, but yeah. Sounds like a bad time for Zhang Liao.
Me: But the thing about such large armies is that they take time to set up and move into position. A smaller army is easier to organize, and there was no setting up, because they had the home field advantage. So take a wild guess what Zhang Liao does?
Hank: Well, he HAS to fight. That's not much of an option...
Me: He does, but he uses the terrain and land to his advantage. He takes 800 of his most die hard soldiers out of the 7,000 strong that he has, and he goes and harasses the hell out of Sun Quan's army. In the process, he defeated way more men than he brought out with him. He lost 700 of those 800 men, but in the process, crushed the morale and spirit of the much larger army. Many of Sun Quan's soldiers deserted during the battle, and many more died in the process. To include some of Sun Quan's more significant officers that he held great trust in.
After that skirmish, Sun Quan's army went to performing a siege on Hefei, but it proved to be a futile effort. The previous occupants of Hefei had built some incredible walls and defenses for the city, and a plague broke out among Sun Quan's soldiers. This forced Sun Quan to withdraw from the siege. But Zhang Liao was far from done with Sun Quan.
As the army moved away, the last units to move was Sun Quan's own unit, which consisted of 1,000 of his personal bodyguards. Yeah, that's a lot of bodyguards. Kind of how Bates had that DRG group as his own personal bodyguards? Well, to drive home the fact that they came and egged the wrong house, Zhang Liao and the other generals within Hefei came out and engaged in a battle against the 1,000 men left behind. Sure, Sun Quan tried to rally his troops that had already retreated to his ships, but they were slow to move, and very few other units could come and assist their liege.
This move almost resulted in the capture of Sun Quan, which would have spelled certain doom for the Kingdom of Wu. But instead, Zhang Liao would have to settle for being the most feared Wei General in the East by the Kingdom of Wu, as he lost only 700 men in comparison to the 1,300 that Sun Quan lost in said battle. To include very important generals and officers to his cause. All of this because Sun Quan thought that his mere numbers would win over the day. But not only did the "Little Guy" stand up to him early on, but he also caused the bigger army many longstanding problems that they could not overcome because of the losses sustained. Yes, they only lost 600 more men, but among that 600 men was Chen Wu, a long-standing Wu general that served with Sun Quan's elder brother.
Do you get where I'm going with all of these instances in history, Hank?
Hank: That size doesn't matter?
Me: Oh it counts for something, but not physically. Sure it helps, but sometimes it can hurt just as much. Like in the case of Bates, he's going to hope and pray he hits me with something quick, and that'll be the end to his night. He will be sadly mistaken on trying to rely on a one punch knockout against me. But a guy like him, a giant? That's where they tend to go for first.
Well Bates, make no mistake about this. I will NOT be an easy target for you. Hell, you said that this isn't a game? Again, you are once again sadly mistaken. Hell, I have the perfect name for this game for you. This night will be your very own variation of "Whack a Mole". Instead, you're going to try to "Whack a James", instead. Only James doesn't just prairie dog in and out of a little hole, but instead I will be all over that damned ring, making you work for everything you think is coming to you because you were born to that ring.
I may have not been born to that ring, but I sure as hell do not have the audacity or the arrogance to think that I will not be working for everything that I gain inside of it like you obviously have. No, instead, I'm going to have to work for every inch of this match. My goal is to drive you batshit insane, as you try to swat at flies that aren't there! And just like with Goliath, as soon as I catch you standing still, it'll be GAME OVER for you!!! You will want to RAGE QUIT when you realize that you've bitten off more than you can chew in this upcoming match!
Yes, I know. You can't wait to get into the ring with me, to make me an example to show "The Family" that you mean business. Well, "The Family" is one thing, but I am just one person inside of that ring. You overlook me, and you're going to pay for it. I will make you pay, with blood, sweat, tears, and every muscle in your body screaming at you tomorrow morning when you wake up. You think your problems are with "The Family"? Again, you are sadly mistaken. You've entered a game that relies on you taking it seriously, and thus far, you have not. And you are going to pay for that lack of respect you've showed me thus far!
Thomas Uriel Bates, you say this is not a game? Well I disagree. As far as I'm concerned, it's GAME ON from here! History aside, you are going to find out firsthand what it feels like to be beaten by a physically "inferior" opponent, and you will become part of history that proves that not all the big guys win the day!
So come play me, if you dare... I'll be out in that ring waiting for you!
I then walked away from Hank, now allowing for him to get in a retort in response to my own shots called against Bates.
Sure, some of that may have been some hot air being thrown out, but I'll be damned if he thinks I'm quaking in my boots at the thought of facing him. Maybe he heard me, or maybe he didn't, it doesn't matter. If he did hear me, then good. Maybe it'll throw him into a rage and he makes a mistake faster for me to capitalize on. Wishful thinking on my part, but who knows?
I moved further away from the staging area, trying like hell to regain my focus. My Zen, or whatever some call it. Battle mindset? Either way, before I could find that "zone", I hear the music playing. The call of the ring beckons me to it. I just shake my head, as I press everything in my mind to the back of it. I focus on the music, before I walk myself to the stage. I have to keep reminding myself to breathe, and Sammy says something at the curtain that resembles the same thing, before I pull the curtain aside, and move into the darkened arena, with the red and green lasers cutting through the air...
The crowd screams and cheers as I walk on to the stage, with Sammy in tow. This was all the proof that I needed. It was indeed, GAME TIME! And either Death or Glory awaits me at the other end...
Here's hoping for GLORY!!!
