Post by logansky on Sept 9, 2024 2:23:37 GMT
Logan was sorting through his fan mail. It was lucky that they were in the Southeast for shows so he was able to get to his PO Box and collect what little there was. Of course being out of the country for a few months certainly made that easier.
He knew some of the more popular types were able to have their stuff forwarded but that wasn’t anything that he could afford to have taken care of. So what fans he had that still used mail had to wait.
He peered through his reading glasses as he sorted through the mail, setting aside what was fan based and what was information from old colleagues and places of work. He picked up a thick manilla envelope and let out a small chuckle. A long time fan had gotten him to start reading Spiderman comics and whenever he was on tour or out of the country he’d pick him up a few issues when they came out and send them to him. He was a good kid.
Kid, hell. He remembered from his last letter he was having a kid of his own here soon. Logan shook his head and exhaled a breath at the passage of time when his phone started to ring next to him on the desk. He squinted his eyes slightly as he looked at the caller ID and the jerk of shock caused his glasses to fall off. He reached for the phone as he started feeling around on his floor for the glasses.
“Angel! I wasn’t expecting to..”
“Why are you sending a card to my son?”
His fingers finally brushed the arm of his glasses and he grabbed them up before sitting up with a groan.
“Well, I wanted to send him something for his Birthday. I didn’t do anything else, I know ya wouldn’t like that. But I thought a card’d be fine.”
“And just why did you sign it with that stupid name of yours.”
He wet his lips slightly as he slipped his glasses back on as his mind raced for something to say.
“Did I? Must have been a force of habit. I sign it more often than my own name these days.”
“Oh come on, who wants anything signed from you?”
“Well now Ang… Alicia, I got some few fans left. Most of them are older though.” He paused for a moment before he frowned. “Now hold on, ya opened the card?”
“Of course I opened it. I needed to make sure you didn’t ask him for anything.”
“What could I…” He took a deep breath and lifted a hand to run it over his close shorn head. “Alright Angel, I understand. I just wanted to send him a card for his birthday, that’s all.”
“Why should he care about someone who’s never been in his life before?”
He bit down on his tongue for a moment. “Alicia, I’m trying here. If nothin else ya could sell it on ebay or something for 20 bucks.”
There was silence on the other line for a moment.
“Fine.”
The line went dead and Logan let out a breath. That could have gone a lot worse. He let out a sigh and pulled his glasses off and rubbed at his eyes. He stretched his knee out, feeling the dull ache in it before he focused back on the pile of mail on his desk.
~_~
Logan is laying down on a workout bench, bench pressing weight with loud gasps of breath with each downswing of weight. The old man hangs up the weight with a final gasp and lays on the bench for a long moment before he slowly sits up with a deep groan. He runs a hand across his face, wiping the sweat from his reddened skin.
“I always talk about how the Machine keeps on trucking. And you bet your ass that I do. But I got nothing on the two boys I got this week. I’m in a triple threat match against Nick Danger and Nick Knight. Got me a pair of Nickys that I gotta deal with. Now a triple threat match is a nightmare to begin with. Ya got two other people to deal with and wrestling one guy is tough enough as it is. But to keep an eye on someone? You gotta always be aware of what is going on around you. But with these two?”
Logan shakes his head.
“Nick Danger is a kid on the rise. He could push himself to be something and he’s well on his way to getting there. You just gotta keep pushing, son. I can see the desire you have. I can see the talent. But ya gotta believe in yourself. You gotta bet on yourself. I know what it’s like to have a bond with a mentor but you gotta cut that cord and step into the light on your own. I think you can do it. You just gotta step up, son. But I’m not gonna make it easy for ya and you can be damn sure that Nick Knight isn’t either.”
Logan let out a heavy sigh, looking down at the floor of the gym for a moment.
“Nick Knight, you and I got a history that most of the folks around here haven’t seen. We’ve been back and forth time and again. We’ve shed blood and sweat together in that ring. I got marks on my body that you but there. The last time we stepped onto the canvas you beat me so bad that I got a pop in my arm that wasn’t there before. You are a bad man between those ropes and very few people know that better than me. You are motivated too. Hell bent on the championship you lost and your crusade against the boss man. But that motivation can also weaken you. It can distract you. You can’t afford to get distracted against someone like me.”
Logan slaps his legs and pushes himself to his feet.
“The two of you might have written me off like so many others have. But ya do so at your peril. Writing off The Machine is a fast track to having the Deal done to ya and staring up at them bright and shiny lights. I’m comin for ya boys and the moment you step outta line I will slap you down. Don’t doubt that for a second. We keep on truckin.”
He knew some of the more popular types were able to have their stuff forwarded but that wasn’t anything that he could afford to have taken care of. So what fans he had that still used mail had to wait.
He peered through his reading glasses as he sorted through the mail, setting aside what was fan based and what was information from old colleagues and places of work. He picked up a thick manilla envelope and let out a small chuckle. A long time fan had gotten him to start reading Spiderman comics and whenever he was on tour or out of the country he’d pick him up a few issues when they came out and send them to him. He was a good kid.
Kid, hell. He remembered from his last letter he was having a kid of his own here soon. Logan shook his head and exhaled a breath at the passage of time when his phone started to ring next to him on the desk. He squinted his eyes slightly as he looked at the caller ID and the jerk of shock caused his glasses to fall off. He reached for the phone as he started feeling around on his floor for the glasses.
“Angel! I wasn’t expecting to..”
“Why are you sending a card to my son?”
His fingers finally brushed the arm of his glasses and he grabbed them up before sitting up with a groan.
“Well, I wanted to send him something for his Birthday. I didn’t do anything else, I know ya wouldn’t like that. But I thought a card’d be fine.”
“And just why did you sign it with that stupid name of yours.”
He wet his lips slightly as he slipped his glasses back on as his mind raced for something to say.
“Did I? Must have been a force of habit. I sign it more often than my own name these days.”
“Oh come on, who wants anything signed from you?”
“Well now Ang… Alicia, I got some few fans left. Most of them are older though.” He paused for a moment before he frowned. “Now hold on, ya opened the card?”
“Of course I opened it. I needed to make sure you didn’t ask him for anything.”
“What could I…” He took a deep breath and lifted a hand to run it over his close shorn head. “Alright Angel, I understand. I just wanted to send him a card for his birthday, that’s all.”
“Why should he care about someone who’s never been in his life before?”
He bit down on his tongue for a moment. “Alicia, I’m trying here. If nothin else ya could sell it on ebay or something for 20 bucks.”
There was silence on the other line for a moment.
“Fine.”
The line went dead and Logan let out a breath. That could have gone a lot worse. He let out a sigh and pulled his glasses off and rubbed at his eyes. He stretched his knee out, feeling the dull ache in it before he focused back on the pile of mail on his desk.
~_~
Logan is laying down on a workout bench, bench pressing weight with loud gasps of breath with each downswing of weight. The old man hangs up the weight with a final gasp and lays on the bench for a long moment before he slowly sits up with a deep groan. He runs a hand across his face, wiping the sweat from his reddened skin.
“I always talk about how the Machine keeps on trucking. And you bet your ass that I do. But I got nothing on the two boys I got this week. I’m in a triple threat match against Nick Danger and Nick Knight. Got me a pair of Nickys that I gotta deal with. Now a triple threat match is a nightmare to begin with. Ya got two other people to deal with and wrestling one guy is tough enough as it is. But to keep an eye on someone? You gotta always be aware of what is going on around you. But with these two?”
Logan shakes his head.
“Nick Danger is a kid on the rise. He could push himself to be something and he’s well on his way to getting there. You just gotta keep pushing, son. I can see the desire you have. I can see the talent. But ya gotta believe in yourself. You gotta bet on yourself. I know what it’s like to have a bond with a mentor but you gotta cut that cord and step into the light on your own. I think you can do it. You just gotta step up, son. But I’m not gonna make it easy for ya and you can be damn sure that Nick Knight isn’t either.”
Logan let out a heavy sigh, looking down at the floor of the gym for a moment.
“Nick Knight, you and I got a history that most of the folks around here haven’t seen. We’ve been back and forth time and again. We’ve shed blood and sweat together in that ring. I got marks on my body that you but there. The last time we stepped onto the canvas you beat me so bad that I got a pop in my arm that wasn’t there before. You are a bad man between those ropes and very few people know that better than me. You are motivated too. Hell bent on the championship you lost and your crusade against the boss man. But that motivation can also weaken you. It can distract you. You can’t afford to get distracted against someone like me.”
Logan slaps his legs and pushes himself to his feet.
“The two of you might have written me off like so many others have. But ya do so at your peril. Writing off The Machine is a fast track to having the Deal done to ya and staring up at them bright and shiny lights. I’m comin for ya boys and the moment you step outta line I will slap you down. Don’t doubt that for a second. We keep on truckin.”
Well howdy there pardner.