Rejoice! The Season Of The Lord Is Upon Us! (Pt 1)

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Hank Brown: "You say that you developed your fighting spirit at an early age?"

{{Hark! The solemn yet inquisitive tone of Hank Brown's voice beckons and thus... our journey begins! Hank is not alone, of course. That would not make for a very entertaining interview... unless he went bat shit crazy like former WCF superstar Logan, but that is not the case. Hank is joined by Bobby Cairo and his lovely wife of some years now Emily, who are seated upon a red, crushed-velvet sofa in the living room of their elegantly-decored, suburban Connecticut estate. The doe-eyed, raven-haired Emily and her generous bosom are snuggled tight in Bobby's arms, her nylon-clad legs and feet extending toward the opposite end of the sofa.

Hank is seated adjacent to the doting couple in a matching, red velvet end chair, dressed in a neatly-pressed, silver-colored suit. A notepad is resting upon Hank's lap, a ballpoint pen is held firmly in his hand, and a tape recorder sits on the nearby gold and marble coffee table, making this seemingly casual affair very official indeed. That's not to say that things have to be stuffy and boring. Cairo, for example, is gripping a glass of cognac with his non-bosom groping hand, whetting his whistle between responses to Hank's questions.

Oh yes... this is Bobby Cairo in the flesh and, as our eyes are quick to remind us, he is a glorious spectacle of a man. Cairo's jet black hair is slicked back to his shoulders, his deep blue eyes beam with a zest for life, and his silky smooth skin is contrasted by that neatly trimmed five o'clock shadow upon his masculinely handsome mug. Cairo's beige dress shirt flows majestically about his arms and torso, the top two buttons undone showing off his hairy and muscular man-chest.

Cairo calmly takes a sip of cognac, his eyes beginning to wander as he offers his reply to Hank's question...}}

Bobby Cairo: "Hank, I had watched pro wrestling as a young boy, and of course I loved it. I was enamored with the concept of grown men pummeling each other senseless and using their technical grappling skill to twist their opponents into overgrown pretzels while wearing little more than a pair of skivvies. Flair and Backlund being my greatest heroes, of course. But wrestling was not my greatest influence. No, sir. Wrestling was great, but that ship was a different story altogether. It was a revelation. Who would think that a fourth-grade field trip to the USS Intrepid would have such a far-reaching impact on a young man's life?"

{{Cairo regales on his sofa with his beautiful bride while marveling of that massive seafaring naval vessel, the USS Intrepid. The ship is presently docked in Manhattan where it serves its function as a historical archive, or museum, and that is where Cairo encountered her nearly two decades ago as a mere lad. We take a trip down memory lane with Cairo as he thinks back to that fateful day, the day that he boarded the Intrepid as a wild-eyed kid with a thirst for knowledge and a hunger for adventure.}}

Bobby: "Of course she was no longer an active vessel when I boarded her, but I tell you that as sure as I stood aboard her deck that day, she could've knocked out an entire fleet of Jap ships. And she did. In her prime she patrolled the South Pacific during World War II, bravely massacring any Japanese ships and planes that she crossed paths with. I could feel her power that day, Hank. I could hear her guns ablaze as if I were living through those great battles myself, even though they took place four decades before my birth. I could hear the ruckus and the furor of war as though I were there, half a century earlier and half a century wiser. The tour guides spoke to my classmates and I about the battles that the ol' girl had fought, even showed us some old film clips, but their words and those images did her little justice. They couldn't even begin to describe the power and unrelenting fury that she possessed."

{{Cairo smiles in remembrance, his eyes wide with reverence just like that little boy aboard that ship that day. Cairo takes another sip of cognac. Emily smiles and pulls Bobby's arms tight around her bosom. Hank sits and listens with a studious air about him, not daring to interrupt.}}

Bobby: "I touched her steel structure, caressed it as though it were my wife's bosom all of these years later. In that moment, I felt the pain of war and the glory of victory. In that moment, I became a fighter. Of course, I would later develop a distrust of the industrial-military complex, but as a boy I knew nothing about that. I just knew the raw, primal emotion of combat and it impacted me greatly. As I think back now to all those years ago as a young boy aboard the Intrepid, I realize that I never could have known how that experience would shape my life and my future. I never could have known that it would lead me to this, but here I am... and here we are."

{{Bobby turns his head to Emily's and kisses her below the earlobe. Emily turns to face Bobby and they smile at each other and kiss on the lips, the passion racing to and fro within their eyes. Hank continues to stare, not daring to interject, even though he might want to. Finally, Bobby and Emily finish kissing and Bobby turns his focus back to the interviewer.}}

Hank: "That's quite a story, Bobby."

{{Hank nods his head, admiring Bobby's candidness and sincerity... not to mention his chica.}}

Bobby: "It's funny how life guides us along its rollercoaster, isn't it? Those are the moments that shape us, though. The moments that embolden us. They strengthen our resolve and mold our very conscience."

Hank: "Indeed they do, Bobby. That trip to the Intrepid was, perhaps, your first taste of battle and conquest, but it was not your last. You and I have talked about this before, but for those who might not be familiar with your history, you went on to have a standout career as an amateur wrestler in high school."

Bobby: "That is correct, sir. I was not motivated to join the military as a result of my experience. I had no such worldly ambitions at that time. It did however shape my outlook on life. It helped me understand that violence is sometimes a necessity for our survival. As I alluded to earlier, that is when the fighting spirit was born inside of me. This was an essential development for a young Bobby because I was raised in a hard-nosed, working-class environment in Hartford, the rough side of town. I knew that if I was ever going to make a better life for my family, I would have to fight tooth and nail for it. Nothing was going to be handed to me. When the opportunity to try out for the varsity wrestling team presented itself during my freshman year in high school, I seized it with a reckless abandon. I put everything that I had into becoming the best grappler on the team, despite being the least experienced."

{{Our vision suddenly goes wavy, as if entering a flashback in a movie or TV show, and our perspective takes us away from Bobby and Emily's living room and plants us inside of a high school gymnasium. We see two boys in wrestling singlets standing on opposite ends of a wrestling mat, with a referee standing between them. A crowd of cheering parents, friends, siblings and extended relatives are seated, or alternately standing, on wooden bleachers as the two boys await the start of their match. The boys can't be more than in their early teens, as the acne on their faces and their then-stylish mushroom-style haircuts would indicate.

As we get a better look at their faces, we can see that one of the boys, wearing a red singlet, appears strikingly similar to Bobby Cairo, albeit a Bobby Cairo who appears to be around fifteen years younger than the present-day Cairo. Young Cairo appears calm. His opponent, in the blue singlet, has a nervous expression on his face and appears to be biting his tongue. The referee signals for them to start their match and the young Cairo immediately explodes out of his position and hits a powerful double-leg take-down that drops his opponent to the mat. Within moments, and after a brief struggle with his opponent, young Cairo has his young foe's shoulders clearly pinned to the mat. The referee counts the pin to make it official.

The young Cairo bounds to his feet and pumps his fist for the cheering crowd and points out to his proud parents in the stands. His mom blows kisses to him and his dad proudly cheers. Cairo gets his hand raised by the ref for his victorious effort, and then turns his attention to his opponent, who is still lying on the mat. Cairo's opponent looks emotionally deflated and his body appears crumpled from the brief though furious onslaught. Cairo extends a hand and pulls him up to his feet. Young Bobby makes his opponent shake his hand like a man, and looks him in the eye before offering the following words.}}

Bobby: "Sorry about that, dude. Hopefully you'll still be able to have sex with your girlfriend."

{{Cairo slaps the other kid on the shoulder and they go their separate ways. Our vision goes wavy again as we're transported to the present-day, back to Bobby and Emily's living room where Bobby is being interviewed by Hank Brown. Hank nods his head and smiles as if he's been listening to Bobby's description of the events that we just witnessed.}}

Hank: "I never get tired of hearing that story. And that, for those who don't know, was your very first match?"

Bobby: "My first match of my freshman year, going up against a junior from our crosstown rival school. That was a sweet, sweet victory, Hank, and it was the beginning of a legacy that continues to this day. I didn't go undefeated that year or even make state, but I won a hell of a lot more matches than I lost, and I learned a hell of a lot too. I was All-State my last three years in high school and received a wrestling scholarship to the University of Hartford, where I became a two-time All-American."

Emily Hotchkiss-Cairo: "Not much has changed. He's still my All-American."

{{Emily smiles as she pats Bobby's groin and kisses his pecker... or I should say pecks his cheek with a kiss. My bad.}}

Hank: "Heh-heh, you're not kidding, Emily. Bobby, I'm looking at your body as one heterosexual man to another, and I say this in a completely non-homosexual way, but you appear to be in absolutely marvelous shape!"

{{Cairo feigns a bashful smirk and then winks at Emily. She flashes a mischievous grin. Yeah, she's a lass who definitely enjoys getting slammed by Bobby Cairo's double-stuffed Italian sausage. You can read it in her face and her eyes.}}

Hank: "How have you been able to keep in such remarkable shape whilst remaining inactive from WCF competition for nearly four years?"

Bobby: "Well..."

{{Bobby playfully smirks as our vision goes wavy again. We're transported to the crowded dance floor of a night club with hot chicks and macho dudes getting their groove on while grinding against each other amidst weirdo, strobe-style lighting. Loud, aggressive, body-slamming club music is blaring from every orifice of the room. Is it dubstep, house, dance, techno, acid or something else entirely? *shrugs* Who the fuck knows what any of that shit even means? What is quickly apparent is that Bobby and Emily are among the fray of dancing/humping bodies. Cairo is putting on a show, pulling off the kind of elaborate, show-stealing dance floor performance that hasn't been seen since John Travolta in Saturday Night Fever.

Upon completion of his performance, Cairo receives a rousing ovation from his fellow drunken club-goers and proceeds to engage in some hardcore dick-thrusting action against the backside of his lovely wifey. Of note, Emily is wearing a tight black dress, black nylons and a monster pair of heels, the same outfit that she is wearing during the Hank interview (plus heels), leading us to believe that this club scene took place on either the same day as the interview, or the night before. Cairo is wearing a maroon-colored dress shirt here in the club though, different from the beige shirt that he's wearing in the Hank interview, making it likely that this club scene did in fact take place the night before the interview.

As we watch Cairo thrust his groin into his wife's bottom in the obnoxiously loud and insanely busy club, our vision goes wavy again and we return to Bobby and Emily's living room and the ongoing interview with Hank.}}

Bobby: "I like to dance, for one thing."

{{Cairo winks at his wife, who in turn sucks on her bottom lip and then thrusts her tongue about the inside of her mouth, clearly reminiscing about the events of last night.}}

Emily: "Speaking of which, you still owe me a massage, mister. Wearing those heels was a bitch on my feet."

Bobby: "I didn't give you a massage last night?"

Emily: "No, we were, uh... otherwise occupied."

Bobby: "Oh, right, right."

{{Emily swings her body around on the sofa, plopping her nylon-covered feet in Bobby's lap. Bobby lets his magic fingers go to work on his wife's tender tootsies as she closes her eyes and begins moaning softly. Hank's looking like he's not sure whether he should ask another question or leave or what. After a few moments of being expertly massaged, Emily's stockinged feet begin stroking Bobby's dick in just such a manner... and Hank becomes really uncomfortable.}}

Hank: "Should I, uh, should I leave you two alone?"

Bobby: "Of course not, Hank. You wanted to know what I do to keep in shape? This part of it. I love to dance. I love to have sex with the wifey."

{{In an instant we are transferred from the interview in Bobby and Emily's living room to a much more adult-oriented scene in their bedroom. Those same nylon-covered feet and legs that were stroking Bobby's dick are now thrust skyward as morning light creeps in through the slits of bedroom curtains. Sexualized moans, grunts and screams fill the air. We see Cairo's maroon shirt from the club strewn about a lampshade. Bobby and Emily are ensconced in black silk blankets and sheets that obscure their naughtiest of bits from our view, though it is apparent from their gyrations that Cairo is slamming his dick into his wife's cooch.

We don't dwell here in the bedroom for long, because frankly that would be an invasion of Bobby and Emily's privacy. We catch enough of a glimpse to get our jollies before we are promptly transferred back to the present, back to the living room, where Hank is shifting a bit in his chair and Bobby is finishing Emily's massage.}}

Bobby: "Of course, there is another factor, Hank. I train younger grapplers every day at Crimson House Dojo, the wrestling school that I own with my mentor and trainer Bolts Quackenbush in Hartford. It's my way of giving back to the sport, but it's also my way of staying in direct contact with the sport."

{{As Cairo's words part from his lips the scene changes once again. Cairo is decked out in his full ring gear, glimmery gold wrestling pants and black and gold boots, whilst "training" his pupils in the Crimson Dojo ring. Cairo hits a belly-to-belly suplex on a three-hundred and fifty-pound Mongolian-looking dude, then springs to his feet, ducks a lariat attempt and German suplexes a clean-cut muscle-bound white dude damn near through the ring. Cairo kips up to his feet and pounds his chest like a wild man when he's done.

We are then graced with a montage of Cairo ragdolling one wrestler after another, young men of all shapes, sizes, appearances and wrestling styles. They throw their best moves at Cairo, and Cairo evades their offense and plants them with a variety of suplexes and throws, even transitioning to submissions on some of them, to which his opponents respond by promptly tapping. Cairo cycles through nearly his entire arsenal before the montage draws to a close, and we are returned to Cairo's interview with Hank.}}

Hank: "There's no doubt that you're in fine shape, Bobby, but, realistically speaking, spending nearly four years away from the ring must have taken some kind of toll on you. For one thing, you haven't been competing against other elite level athletes for that entire time."

Bobby: "Is that what Logan is now, an elite level athlete? He's what passes for top-flight competition in today's WCF?"

{{Cairo raises an incredulous eyebrow.}}

Hank: "He is the most decorated superstar in WCF history, Bobby."

Bobby: "According to whom?"

Hank: "The record books!"

{{Bobby lets out a boisterous chuckle while Emily snuggles him tight, resting her head on his shoulder. Hank takes the opportunity to sneak a peak at her cleavage, careful not to alert either she or Bobby to his activities.}}

Bobby: "Recorded history is often skewed by the biases of those writing it, Hank. If the history books were accurate they would have recorded that Logan, THE LOGAN, that Logan who held all of those belts, died five years ago."

Hank: "Come now, Bobby, the man defeated Slickie T to win his fifth WCF World Championship and his third WAR match just last year."

Bobby: "I'm not taking anything away from Logan. Once in a blue moon his ass gets motivated and he fires up the ol' cocktail wiener of doom and hands out his little tickets to Connector City, but I truly believe that we have seen Logan's last great gasp. Forget about the fact that he totally choked after winning the World Title that you speak of, and forget about the fact that he's been AWOL for much of 2011, and even forget about the fact that the last time we saw Logan inside of the WCF ring he was getting his spine snapped in half by a real World Champion, Odin Balfore... Have you seen Logan's promos, the ones that have aired this week?"

{{Hank looks a bit uneasy.}}

Hank: "Well, yes... I had a rather bizarre phone conversation with Logan and conducted a pair of equally bizarre interviews that were used in those promos. He didn't seem quite like himself, I must admit."

Bobby: "The man is off his rocker, Hank. I haven't seen anything that whacked since Greenfever and Oblivion were terrorizing WCF. I couldn't make heads or tails of that shit. Logan isn't Logan, he's some other dude, whose name isn't Logan, and that dude is the real Logan, but Logan isn't actually real. Logan and the whole WCF world is a fantasy in that dude's mind... I mean, WHAT THE FUCK."

{{Hank shuffles his notes a bit and clears his throat.}}

Bobby: "I do know one thing that's crystal clear: Logan picked a terrible time to have an identity crisis. When you step into the ring with Bobby Cairo you better have a clear head, complete focus and absolute determination to achieve the task at hand. If you've got that going for you then you might have a chance at hanging with me for a little while. However, you step in there with your head on backwards and Bobby Cairo is going to take you apart. I'm a fucking grand master in that ring. I break my opponents down mentally and then I beat them down physically. If he's already mentally defeated then that leaves me with the very simple task of beating the shit out of his wandering, aimless, soon-to-be-lifeless corpse."

Hank: "Well, we do know one thing about Logan's mindset going into this match: He was prepared to put his life on the line for a victory over you. He believed that this steel cage death match between you and he was literally a match to the death."

Bobby: "Who says that it won't be, Hank?"

{{Emily looks nervously at Bobby and then strokes his inner thigh with her hand. Bobby lets out a quiet, barely-audible pleasure sigh while never taking his eyes off of the man who is interviewing him.}}

Bobby: "I look at it this way, Hank: I'm Ivan Drago. If Logan dies, then he dies. Either way, I must break him."

{{Cairo coldly glares at Hank and then his sights turn elsewhere, placing a kiss on Emily's lips. Our sights also turn elsewhere as the scene fades to black... for now... until Part 2 !}}