Post by Doc Henry on Oct 16, 2016 12:06:26 GMT -5
Waikiki Suite, Trump International Hotel and Tower.
Monday 5:30PM local time.
Doc is sitting on one of the three balconies in his suite overlooking Diamond Head. A glass of Crystal in one hand and a finely rolled Cuban cigar in the other. Slam was a success, and he looked forward to the card coming out this evening. Surely he and Oblivion's performances would garner something...
His laptop was next to him open, and he perked up when Skype notified him of an incoming call from home. Doc smiles and accepted to see the smiling face of Mary, sleepy eyed, yet happy.
"I tell you, the kids and o should have traveled along. I think they would have enjoyed being on the beach."
Doc smiled into the webcam and sipped his drink, "Well, I already sent the plane back. Have your bags packed dear, flight plan is to leave at 9:45 in the morning, your time."
"Seriously? I'll start packing right away..."
Mary paused as a sound beeped from Doc's office computer.
"Looks like the card for next Slam was just emailed out..."
Doc pulls his phone out and looks at the emailed card...
"Well, looks like Adam has a World Title shot... Dude is tough as nails, but something tells me Panty-On is gonna use him to make an example... Poor thing...
Wait...
WHAT THE FUCK!?!
How the hell can that fucking bitch get a shot at the People's Title? She left her partner in the ring to get decimated by me and Oblivion. Last I checked, both me and Frankie are in line before that failed abortion!
God fucking dammit! I'm gonna have to kick Lerch in the pussy or something..."
Doc had stood at his out burst and Mary just sat on the screen calmly watching. Master Ryushi had come out on the balcony to see what was up. Before he could say anything though, Mary just spoke, her calm nature causing Doc to stop.
"Doc... You might want to look at that card again..."
Doc looked back at his phone, and back toward the computer.
"Well, how about them apples..."
***************
Saturday, 7:41 AM
UFC Gym Honolulu.
Doc is in the bag room, working elbow and knee strikes. Thanks to some connections, he has been spending most of his days in here preparing for Slam, and the shot at Tag Team Gold...
"I tell ya bruddah, whoever your facing is gonna have a bad day."
Doc just smiled at Big Tiny, and threw an elbow so hard the big Samoan grunted with the impact on the bag.
"Well Big T, there is a championship on the line tomorrow night. Oblivion and I are going to walk out the new Tag Team Champs."
Big T tossed Doc a fresh water bottle and a towel. "The way you been hitting these bags and weights, I'd think you were the bigger monster... I've not seen many come in here to match your work ethic."
Doc clapped the large man on the shoulder as they headed towards the back. "Don't let my work fool you, Oblivion is more of a monster than anyone realizes...
I can guarantee you this, Captain WCF and Chief Tomohawk are in for a very big surprise. They think they know what they are getting into, but the reality of the situation is, they haven't got a prayer in hell..."
Big T moved back to the office as Doc made his way to the showers and locker room...
***************
Doc is walking along the streets back to the hotel, when he is met by Hank Brown.
"Well, I figured you'd be by sooner or later..."
Doc stopped, shook his head at finding WCF's top interviewer. "Hank, how the hell did you..."
"Find you?
Doc, your forgetting that I am an investigative journalist..."
Don't lie Hank, you know you only got the job because there was no one else. The fact that you've kept it this long though, now THAT is impressive...
Look, it doesn't matter how you found me, in fact I'm sure I don't want to know the details either. I don't need those nightmares in my life..."
"Then you won't mind if I tag along and talk?"
"Actually, I DO mi..."
"Awesome!
Well, as you know, I haven't been able to talk to you since that first interview back when you returned..."
"I know, it's been kinda nice... I bet you've never been busier."
"Well... you know...
So, tomorrow, you have a title shot."
Doc nodded as they continued on, "Yeah, it's not the one I've been chasing, and was told by the champion himself I had a match. However, another run as Tag Team Champion? Who could pass that up. Those belts I have a long history with, and I know almost every nick and scratch on them."
"Right now, you are tied with our World Champion Corey Black with the most runs as Tag Champ. How good would it be to separate from him and hold that distinction all by yourself?"
"I wish I could answer that one Hank, but I honestly don't know how good it would be. I can speculate. I can imagine it could mean as much as when Johnny and I won our first Tag Titles. Then again it could mean so much more. You see, by taking those straps with Oblivion, I will be cementing myself as the single best guy to have in your corner when teamwork is needed. Sure guys like Black, legends before they retire have set the bar, and continue to push it just that much farther have accomplished so much. But, I will have done what he hasn't, and in a shorter career span as well. If'n you ask me, well that puts me just a little higher."
"But Doc, aren't you worried you'll only be known as a Tag Team specialist?"
Doc just looked at Hank like he had a testicle on his chin. "No."
"No?"
"No...
You see, right now I sit with five runs as Tag champion, and I have had five singles title runs as well, that's a 50-50 split. Well balanced if'n you ask anyone. When Obli and I walk out of Slam the new Tag Team Champs, well that will be six and five, a 55-45 split. Still well balanced, and don't get me wrong, I plan on having a nice good run with Oblivion as Tag Champs. However, I still have my eyes set on that People's Championship, as well as the ever elusive World Title..."
Doc and Hank reach the Trump Intl Tower and Hotel, and enter the lobby headed for the elevators. "Hank, I'm not worrying about people thinking of me as some sort of team specialist. They can carry whatever thoughts they want, but the simple fact of the matter is that for most of my career, I have been the lone predator, the solitary tiger roaming the jungle. Now that doesn't mean I can't work well with others, it just means I don't rely on anyone else to get the job done if'n I can do it myself.
Oblivion and I make a great team, maybe not so much on paper, but look at us. I am the savvy tactician who can and doesn't mind getting my hands dirty. I can go in the ring with the best of them, and Oblivion is arguably the best at getting his hands dirty. You see, what people don't see with Obli is that he can be just as savvy and calculating as me. He can plan, play games, or just shoot from the hip. This is where it will get interesting, you see Oblivion knows that I can hold back, be the controlled calculating assassin, allowing the monster to run loose. He can open up the floodgates and show everyone just why he is so feared."
Doc and Hank stop at the door to his suite. The view changes to an inside view looking out at the duo as Doc opens said door...
Oh Jesus Christ..."
Both men's faces contort with disgust as Hank turns and begins vomiting in the hall...
***************
Doc's balcony, 3 hours later
Doc is standing at the railing looking out at the blue waters of the Pacific.
"Well I must admit that in my quest to gain more gold I don't pay much if any attention to the Tag division. So Captain, Chief, you'll have to forgive me a little. Or you won't, it's really your choice. Still, that didn't stop me from doing a little research however.
Captain WCF...
Who do you think you are? The hero we need, but not want? I think not, that's the Dark Night Batman. Or were you trying to be the Steve Rogers of the Dub? Well that can't be, just look at you, your short and fat. You don't look like any Japanese wrestler I've seen, unless your one of those middleweight sumo guys.
Seriously, I think we've all heard by now through the fed wise scuttlebutt how you were signed by mistake. So basically, you were an accident. Not one of those Bob Ross happy little accidents, nope, more like one of those Head Cheerleader losing prom queen because of a pregnancy accidents.
Look, I've seen several people come in with elaborate costumes, sporting the moniker of Captain. From a pirate wannabe in my earlier days, Captain Jack Dancer to already having had a fed superhero, Captain Punishment. Look, guys like you are a dime a dozen, I've looked into all of their eyes, and though your's are permanently squinted... Damn A Bombs... You have the same look that all of them had.
Anger...
Fear...
Aggression...
The Dark Side of the Fo...
Wait, sorry about that, was on a Star Wars Marathon the last couple of days... Where was I? Oh, yeah...
I see nervousness, fear of course, self doubt and the overall feeling of being overwhelmed and outmatched. Captain WCF, your intentions may be noble and you have a cause worth having. But this is the Dub, there is no saving here, only survival."
Doc turned as dark clouds began to move towards the island. "Your partner however, Chief Tomohawk. Well, I am not gonna cast shade on someone of Native origins. Those noble people deserve their representation. Be proud to claim Cherokee blood, however, people will call you a pretentious ass. More than any other tribe, Cherokee is the one people are pretty sure they have an ancestor from, despite not being able to name the ancestor or show any proof of such an ancestor, because such an ancestor never existed. I'm not saying there isn't any of their blood running through your veins, but I'm also not saying there is.
I see a lot of potential in you 'Chief'. Funny, I know quite a few First Nation Chiefs, and they are all at least middle age. Hmmm...
Anyhow, 'Chief', I get it, your one of those guys with size who can move. If'n your claims of native blood are true, and again I'm not saying they aren't... Still not saying they are... You come from a proud warrior tradition. One of honor, respect and family. That is great, and someday you'll climb the mountain top here in the Dub, I'd put money on it. There is just one thing your overlooking...
You and the Cap'n are going against two men who have proven time and again that we ARE the measuring stick. We have been in the ring and beaten them all, granted there were some losses along the way. But last week, against the tit brigade, I saw the man inside the monster. The Oblivion we all fear, and love to see destroy. I saw the fire, he's not Fauxblivion, no, I only did that because I knew what lay deep in his black heart and I wanted MY CREATION to run free... MY DEMON, MY MONSTER.... OBLIVION!!!!"
Doc's eye roll over black, even the whites become so dark, they seem to be emitting the blackness. The clouds roll in overhead bringing an ominous darkness, pallor punctuated by otherworldly lightning.
"You've stepped into Dante's Seventh circle of Hell. The violence that will be unleashed upon your souls at Slam will be far more than your feeble human minds can comprehend. When the Monster and I are done with you two, the Tag Titles will come home to where they belong.
With the Devil himself, ME!!!!!"
The sky and Doc's eyes return to normal, and he looks around.
"Hmmm, thunder? I don't see any clouds in the sky..."
Doc looked around and shrugged, "Hmmm, must be that strange ocean weather... Where was I?
Tomorrow night, Tomohawk, Cap'n, get ready for one hell of a fight, you have the Monster Oblivion and Doc the Cock coming hard for those belts, and your standing on the tracks..."
Doc takes a drink out of the flask from his pocket and walks into the hotel room...
Monday 5:30PM local time.
Doc is sitting on one of the three balconies in his suite overlooking Diamond Head. A glass of Crystal in one hand and a finely rolled Cuban cigar in the other. Slam was a success, and he looked forward to the card coming out this evening. Surely he and Oblivion's performances would garner something...
His laptop was next to him open, and he perked up when Skype notified him of an incoming call from home. Doc smiles and accepted to see the smiling face of Mary, sleepy eyed, yet happy.
"I tell you, the kids and o should have traveled along. I think they would have enjoyed being on the beach."
Doc smiled into the webcam and sipped his drink, "Well, I already sent the plane back. Have your bags packed dear, flight plan is to leave at 9:45 in the morning, your time."
"Seriously? I'll start packing right away..."
Mary paused as a sound beeped from Doc's office computer.
"Looks like the card for next Slam was just emailed out..."
Doc pulls his phone out and looks at the emailed card...
"Well, looks like Adam has a World Title shot... Dude is tough as nails, but something tells me Panty-On is gonna use him to make an example... Poor thing...
Wait...
WHAT THE FUCK!?!
How the hell can that fucking bitch get a shot at the People's Title? She left her partner in the ring to get decimated by me and Oblivion. Last I checked, both me and Frankie are in line before that failed abortion!
God fucking dammit! I'm gonna have to kick Lerch in the pussy or something..."
Doc had stood at his out burst and Mary just sat on the screen calmly watching. Master Ryushi had come out on the balcony to see what was up. Before he could say anything though, Mary just spoke, her calm nature causing Doc to stop.
"Doc... You might want to look at that card again..."
Doc looked back at his phone, and back toward the computer.
"Well, how about them apples..."
***************
Saturday, 7:41 AM
UFC Gym Honolulu.
Doc is in the bag room, working elbow and knee strikes. Thanks to some connections, he has been spending most of his days in here preparing for Slam, and the shot at Tag Team Gold...
"I tell ya bruddah, whoever your facing is gonna have a bad day."
Doc just smiled at Big Tiny, and threw an elbow so hard the big Samoan grunted with the impact on the bag.
"Well Big T, there is a championship on the line tomorrow night. Oblivion and I are going to walk out the new Tag Team Champs."
Big T tossed Doc a fresh water bottle and a towel. "The way you been hitting these bags and weights, I'd think you were the bigger monster... I've not seen many come in here to match your work ethic."
Doc clapped the large man on the shoulder as they headed towards the back. "Don't let my work fool you, Oblivion is more of a monster than anyone realizes...
I can guarantee you this, Captain WCF and Chief Tomohawk are in for a very big surprise. They think they know what they are getting into, but the reality of the situation is, they haven't got a prayer in hell..."
Big T moved back to the office as Doc made his way to the showers and locker room...
***************
Doc is walking along the streets back to the hotel, when he is met by Hank Brown.
"Well, I figured you'd be by sooner or later..."
Doc stopped, shook his head at finding WCF's top interviewer. "Hank, how the hell did you..."
"Find you?
Doc, your forgetting that I am an investigative journalist..."
Don't lie Hank, you know you only got the job because there was no one else. The fact that you've kept it this long though, now THAT is impressive...
Look, it doesn't matter how you found me, in fact I'm sure I don't want to know the details either. I don't need those nightmares in my life..."
"Then you won't mind if I tag along and talk?"
"Actually, I DO mi..."
"Awesome!
Well, as you know, I haven't been able to talk to you since that first interview back when you returned..."
"I know, it's been kinda nice... I bet you've never been busier."
"Well... you know...
So, tomorrow, you have a title shot."
Doc nodded as they continued on, "Yeah, it's not the one I've been chasing, and was told by the champion himself I had a match. However, another run as Tag Team Champion? Who could pass that up. Those belts I have a long history with, and I know almost every nick and scratch on them."
"Right now, you are tied with our World Champion Corey Black with the most runs as Tag Champ. How good would it be to separate from him and hold that distinction all by yourself?"
"I wish I could answer that one Hank, but I honestly don't know how good it would be. I can speculate. I can imagine it could mean as much as when Johnny and I won our first Tag Titles. Then again it could mean so much more. You see, by taking those straps with Oblivion, I will be cementing myself as the single best guy to have in your corner when teamwork is needed. Sure guys like Black, legends before they retire have set the bar, and continue to push it just that much farther have accomplished so much. But, I will have done what he hasn't, and in a shorter career span as well. If'n you ask me, well that puts me just a little higher."
"But Doc, aren't you worried you'll only be known as a Tag Team specialist?"
Doc just looked at Hank like he had a testicle on his chin. "No."
"No?"
"No...
You see, right now I sit with five runs as Tag champion, and I have had five singles title runs as well, that's a 50-50 split. Well balanced if'n you ask anyone. When Obli and I walk out of Slam the new Tag Team Champs, well that will be six and five, a 55-45 split. Still well balanced, and don't get me wrong, I plan on having a nice good run with Oblivion as Tag Champs. However, I still have my eyes set on that People's Championship, as well as the ever elusive World Title..."
Doc and Hank reach the Trump Intl Tower and Hotel, and enter the lobby headed for the elevators. "Hank, I'm not worrying about people thinking of me as some sort of team specialist. They can carry whatever thoughts they want, but the simple fact of the matter is that for most of my career, I have been the lone predator, the solitary tiger roaming the jungle. Now that doesn't mean I can't work well with others, it just means I don't rely on anyone else to get the job done if'n I can do it myself.
Oblivion and I make a great team, maybe not so much on paper, but look at us. I am the savvy tactician who can and doesn't mind getting my hands dirty. I can go in the ring with the best of them, and Oblivion is arguably the best at getting his hands dirty. You see, what people don't see with Obli is that he can be just as savvy and calculating as me. He can plan, play games, or just shoot from the hip. This is where it will get interesting, you see Oblivion knows that I can hold back, be the controlled calculating assassin, allowing the monster to run loose. He can open up the floodgates and show everyone just why he is so feared."
Doc and Hank stop at the door to his suite. The view changes to an inside view looking out at the duo as Doc opens said door...
Oh Jesus Christ..."
Both men's faces contort with disgust as Hank turns and begins vomiting in the hall...
***************
Doc's balcony, 3 hours later
Doc is standing at the railing looking out at the blue waters of the Pacific.
"Well I must admit that in my quest to gain more gold I don't pay much if any attention to the Tag division. So Captain, Chief, you'll have to forgive me a little. Or you won't, it's really your choice. Still, that didn't stop me from doing a little research however.
Captain WCF...
Who do you think you are? The hero we need, but not want? I think not, that's the Dark Night Batman. Or were you trying to be the Steve Rogers of the Dub? Well that can't be, just look at you, your short and fat. You don't look like any Japanese wrestler I've seen, unless your one of those middleweight sumo guys.
Seriously, I think we've all heard by now through the fed wise scuttlebutt how you were signed by mistake. So basically, you were an accident. Not one of those Bob Ross happy little accidents, nope, more like one of those Head Cheerleader losing prom queen because of a pregnancy accidents.
Look, I've seen several people come in with elaborate costumes, sporting the moniker of Captain. From a pirate wannabe in my earlier days, Captain Jack Dancer to already having had a fed superhero, Captain Punishment. Look, guys like you are a dime a dozen, I've looked into all of their eyes, and though your's are permanently squinted... Damn A Bombs... You have the same look that all of them had.
Anger...
Fear...
Aggression...
The Dark Side of the Fo...
Wait, sorry about that, was on a Star Wars Marathon the last couple of days... Where was I? Oh, yeah...
I see nervousness, fear of course, self doubt and the overall feeling of being overwhelmed and outmatched. Captain WCF, your intentions may be noble and you have a cause worth having. But this is the Dub, there is no saving here, only survival."
Doc turned as dark clouds began to move towards the island. "Your partner however, Chief Tomohawk. Well, I am not gonna cast shade on someone of Native origins. Those noble people deserve their representation. Be proud to claim Cherokee blood, however, people will call you a pretentious ass. More than any other tribe, Cherokee is the one people are pretty sure they have an ancestor from, despite not being able to name the ancestor or show any proof of such an ancestor, because such an ancestor never existed. I'm not saying there isn't any of their blood running through your veins, but I'm also not saying there is.
I see a lot of potential in you 'Chief'. Funny, I know quite a few First Nation Chiefs, and they are all at least middle age. Hmmm...
Anyhow, 'Chief', I get it, your one of those guys with size who can move. If'n your claims of native blood are true, and again I'm not saying they aren't... Still not saying they are... You come from a proud warrior tradition. One of honor, respect and family. That is great, and someday you'll climb the mountain top here in the Dub, I'd put money on it. There is just one thing your overlooking...
You and the Cap'n are going against two men who have proven time and again that we ARE the measuring stick. We have been in the ring and beaten them all, granted there were some losses along the way. But last week, against the tit brigade, I saw the man inside the monster. The Oblivion we all fear, and love to see destroy. I saw the fire, he's not Fauxblivion, no, I only did that because I knew what lay deep in his black heart and I wanted MY CREATION to run free... MY DEMON, MY MONSTER.... OBLIVION!!!!"
Doc's eye roll over black, even the whites become so dark, they seem to be emitting the blackness. The clouds roll in overhead bringing an ominous darkness, pallor punctuated by otherworldly lightning.
"You've stepped into Dante's Seventh circle of Hell. The violence that will be unleashed upon your souls at Slam will be far more than your feeble human minds can comprehend. When the Monster and I are done with you two, the Tag Titles will come home to where they belong.
With the Devil himself, ME!!!!!"
The sky and Doc's eyes return to normal, and he looks around.
"Hmmm, thunder? I don't see any clouds in the sky..."
Doc looked around and shrugged, "Hmmm, must be that strange ocean weather... Where was I?
Tomorrow night, Tomohawk, Cap'n, get ready for one hell of a fight, you have the Monster Oblivion and Doc the Cock coming hard for those belts, and your standing on the tracks..."
Doc takes a drink out of the flask from his pocket and walks into the hotel room...
