Post by Maelstrom on Apr 24, 2016 21:28:57 GMT
"Maelstrom! Got a minute?"
Maelstrom: Yeah? What can I do ya for?
[The Human Hellstorm himself wasn't supposed to be out in the main corridor. If he's cursing getting caught in the open like this, he doesn't show it. Still dressed in his ring attire, he has put on an IWF t-shirt and is picking at his knuckle tape as he weaves through the crowd. His face shows some fresh bruising and his sweat hasn't dried yet. He grins that charismatic hoodlum grin at the pass-wearing fans before turning to the harried public relations rep. She's looking stressed out - either a message wasn't forwarded or she's in the wrong place.]
PR Rep: These lucky fans have won a backstage tour to meet with IWF Superstars, and you're our first stop! Can you have a few words with them while I get the next part of the tour ready?
[Her look says "Please babysit these people while I make some phone calls and salvage this". The fans, a couple young children, three teenagers including one gangly lad who towers over not only the grizzled IWF newcomer but pretty much everyone around, and a bearded heavyset man in his late twenties who you just know is going to blog about this. Maelstrom appraises the six fans, in particular looking up at the beanpole lad who awkwardly shifts his weight under the gaze. The Human Hellstorm smirks.]
Maelstrom: I was actually jus' on my way 'ta talk to a guy. Tell ya what though, I'm happy 'ta talk to fans - if you got a place 'ta be... I got time, sweetheart.
[The fans in question don't look particularly happy. Maelstrom at this point is not a Roberto Verona or an Eternity. He's not a Nighthawk or even a Fiona. Most IWF fans have no idea about his past, nor do they care. The older fan is the exception - he looks like he could burst with glee, which immediately identifies him as a multi-promotional fan and thus, fully aware of the Innovator of Intimidation's career. Maelstrom rubs his brow and checks his hand for blood as an afterthought, before rubbing the sweat off on his shirt. He crouches down to go eye to eye with the smallest child who shrinks back from the moon crater-like face of the Human Hellstorm.]
Maelstrom: A'right, guys. Excluding Superfan over there who will prob'ly answer everything - no offense, buddy - who here's happy I'm the guy yer talkin' to right now?
[He chuckles as the teenagers halfheartedly raise their hands and the children make no effort to hide their unease. Superfan is over the moon. Maelstrom nods in his direction, never taking his eyes off the others.]
Maelstrom: See, this guy knows me. I get that I ain't the superstar you were hopin' for. It's a-right. One day yer gonna be jus' like this guy and tellin' everyone that you got 'ta meet the Maelstrom.
{Superfan can't contain himself anymore.]
Superfan: You guys gotta know Maelstrom! He's been everywhere! Japan! Europe! Africa! Russia! Just a few years ago he had this legendary match where he beat Jostr-
Maelstrom: Whoa whoa whoa! Buds! We don't talk about stuff I did outside the organization on organization time an' property, a'right? I ain't gonna be one-a those broken records that jus' goes on about his past like it means anythin'. That's the thing you get from bein' an old fart like me. You deal with too many other old farts who do nothin' but talk about the glory days.
[He shoots a momentary apologetic look at the deflated Superfan.]
Maelstrom: Look, Ramrod.I appreciate that you know who I am, I really do. But ya gotta get that I'm try'na not be that guy. I busted a lotta heads in the past but if people start on that then that's all they'll talk about. I like talkin' about the heads I'm bustin' today, or the heads I'm gonna be bustin' down the line.
[He's been eyeing a closed door down the hall this whole time. It opens and a pair of EMTs leave. Their absence of a gurney is what Maelstrom was looking for. That fierce grin crosses his face and he fixes his eyes on the beanpole lad.]
Maelstrom: Speakin' a which. Tattoo - make for that open door, I got words for a guy.
A'right. Those'a you that know me, I need no introduction. Those'a you that don't? I'll introduce myself proper soon enough.
So's it's the Pay-Per-View. Destiny. Who the hell came up with that. Anyway.
I ain't gonna be that guy that goes on about how it's my Destiny. I ain't gonna be that guy that tries 'ta make clever friggin' puns about names, because I been around long enough that I'm tired a'that kinda thing. Most'a you are too. I also ain't gonna be that guy that goes on about what he did in places that others ain't been because honestly, it amounts to a lotta crap.
An' I ain't about the crap.
So's onto the main show here: it's a fatal fourway. The goddamn Maelstrom an' three friends, an' if I ain't had more busted noses than hot dinners that's all the makings of a hell of a match.
We got Demonico Blanco, that lawn dart in a mask - we got Addisyn Starr who's gonna obviously wow us with her technical expertise - an' we got Jimmy F. Karn.
Obviously yer listenin' ta me talk not because you wanna hear me tell stories. I'm here 'ta give my words on the folks yer all gonna watch me beat in'ta shape an' give you the show of a lifetime in the process, y'know?
Jimmy Eff Karn. You know what. I'm glad I don't need 'ta feel like I got somethin' against a guy to be able 'ta bust him down 'ta his foundations, y'know? Jimmy, I'll level with ya. You wanna be pals after we blow the roof off, we can be pals. Doesn't mean I ain't gonna do things in that ring, that'll have yer ancestors comin' back 'ta this earth 'ta slap the mat because they hurt so bad.
Guys like us, we know what it's like 'ta grind out our guts in that ring, leave nothin' behind an' come up with what feels like nothin' ta show for it. An' yet we still come back. Every old scar, every wrinkle, every new goddamn ache that makes it hard 'ta get out of bed in the morning. Doesn't stop us. Matter of fact it's a point a' pride that we get up an' spit out busted teeth an' keep puttin' one foot in front of the other.
So I ain't gonna go on some goddamn tirade about how yer unworthy of bein' in the ring with me, or how yer jus' a speed bump on my way 'ta the belt. Because as good as that is 'ta get the hate movin', it ain't me.
What I am gonna say is that goin' by your experience, ya been to the depths. Jus' like me you stared in'ta that blackness. As yer just about 'ta sleep you can't help but feel those hits all over again, an' you lie there in yer bed feelin' all tore up an' sick from it all. Trust me, I know all about that. So's comin' from that, you know that I know, an' you know what I got ready for you is gonna open that door in ways nobody's ready for. There ain't words for the kinda pain old fightin' dogs feel when they're alone in the dark an' I ain't gonna insult ya by sayin' you don't know that.
I also ain't gonna tell you 'ta run away from it. I don't want that, yer fans don't want that, an' you ain't gonna do it. Don't take it personal is all I ask, when I give the fans what they ask for an' lay you out slow-like. We'll give 'em a show like they ain't never seen.
We're professionals, we do our jobs. At the end of it all if there's still a hand 'ta shake I'd like 'ta do it.
[The kids on the guided tour file into the storage lockup-turned-first aid room carelessly left open by the EMTs. Seated on a gurney, his gargantuan feet on the floor even as the bed is extended, is the Union of Jobbers' own giant. His hand is wrapped in tape and there's a cold compress held to his face by a white bandage that makes him look far more hurt than he ought to be. He'd almost be a pitiful sight if not for the fact that in spite of it all, he's still just huge.]
Kid: Hey! Hey guys! It's Solomon Khan!
[Khan is still no elite superstar but he is a better known name than the Human Hellstorm in this organization, and this shows as the fans, with the exception of Superfan, who is at this point babbling to the veteran wrestler about puroresu and extreme death matches and his inexplicable knowledge of his appearances in b-movies - to which Maelstrom is nodding along, finally answering questions as Khan is hamming it up with the children and posing for pictures. The man is, surprising to no one, a giant teddy bear.]
Superfan: ...and so I gotta ask, since your appearance in that 2003 Skinemax movie Caged Heat have you looked into acting more?
Maelstrom: I'll be honest, they just wanted a big guy 'ta fight in a cage for a scene in the background. I dunno how you even figured out it was me.
Superfan: Oh! Well, my web-community and I discovered it was you when our friend XXKiddDragon was watching movies as he always does friday nights when...
[The Human Hellstorm nods.]
Maelstrom: A'right, I get it. Gotta say, I'm... impressed?
[Superfan misses the cue and beams, as Maelstrom glances over at the rest of the tour group. Khan has stood up and is towering over Beanpole as the others laugh. Bean looks relieved that for once he isn't the only one in the room who knows what it's like to hit your head on exit signs. This exchange only happens for a moment before the kids all decide to play-wrestle with Khan. Superfan pushes up his glasses and continues.]
Superfan: So, Maelstrom, my community would kill me if I didn't ask: who is your favorite Pony?
[The only thing that keeps the Human Hellstorm from doing a double take is the momentary shock of it all. He blinks. Sometimes it's hard to love your fans.]
Tell you what: If I had a favorite pony it'd be Addisyn Starr. I gotta play the professional road here but I gotta say she reminds me of my first ex-wife. When she finally moved on I finally got the glitter outta my bedsheets, y'know?
But that ain't here nor there. Starr, you know you got a lotta nerve playin' the game yer playin' right now. I gotta say I don't know if I like what yer doing 'ta that guy, but I ain't out 'ta get between consenting adults an' all that. But I gotta say, the whole little lady an' big man thing? Gets the ol' motor runnin', yeah? Hah!
I'm sayin' it a lot lately, that I ain't gonna be that guy. Well, I ain't gonna be that guy that says yer tryin' to pass as legitimate in the men's division an' doin' what you're doin' ain't helpin'. We all know that whole thing. I jus' wanna know how it keeps happening. Who is yer pal at the top that keeps this going an' does he have need for any more friends, because I'm jus' an old busted up tomato an' I need all the friends I can get. Heh.
But, as I'm not goin' on about the points every other sad sack is gonna harp on about an' I'm sure you're tired of hearin', I gotta ask: I'm pretty sure a lotta your people know a lotta my people. If you were lookin' for a big piece a' meat 'ta serve as yer backstop I don't know why you didn't call me. Quite frankly I'm kinda offended.
Is it 'cause I'm ugly, is that it? Haw!
No, but serious now, we coulda had somethin' going, you an' I. What, was I too old? Was I actually talented enough 'ta make it on my own if you pushed my buttons too much, was 'at it? My file had 'ta have crossed yer desk when I was still knockin' numbers around 'ta agree to the travel schedule, so it had 'ta have been somethin'.
Nah, I guess I musta been too short.
Hah! We coulda been somethin' , you an' me! Instead you went an' brought in the new guy, an' now it's too late! Now I gotta bust him up an' it's all your fault.
But for that Buffington guy - tell you what! I like the look of that kid. Big, raw, mean muggin' brick shithouse of a guy. Steel's the kinda dude I book calendar days off an' find special sparrin' partners for. Again, I don't like what you're doin' ta him. Boy like that needs a real coach, not whatever you think you got on the go.
Can't wait 'ta tangle up with him, give these fans a real show. Bigger'n me, younger'n me. Looks like he could actually go head 'ta head an' maybe show me a thing or two.
Looks ain't everythin', though. I love takin' these prototype young bucks that come up an' showin' the world that all the flash an'talent don't hold up against the Innovator of Intimidation.
It'll be all yer fault too. You coulda had me, we coulda worked it out. Instead ya took him.
S'why you're my favorite pony at the track, even when you get on the wrong horse.
Hah!
It's later in the week. Time to record the hype for the Pay-Per-View, parts of which have already played for your pleasure. Maelstrom's gravelly, slightly slurred voice booms in a little too loud. He sits patiently as a pair of hands reach in from off-camera to adjust his wireless lapel microphone. Behind him is yet another vinyl IWF Destiny banner stretched over primer-painted white drywall, filthy with handprints. The harsh white overhead lighting shines over his close-shaven head and casts deep shadows in the wrinkles and scars on his face. His eyes glint from the dark cast by his brows.
A pair of hands reaches in, this time with a powder puff to ease the glare off Maelstrom's head and maybe soften the moon surface-like features of his face. He clamps his giant gnarled hand on the puff in a surprisingly swift and slightly violent motion, immobilizing both the puff and the hands on it. A cloud of fine powder explodes from the puff and coats Maelstrom and his immediate surroundings. Having pinched his eyes shut for a moment as this occurred, he opens one eye and glares up at the owner of said hand.
Maelstrom: C'mon, pal! They ain't payin' me 'ta be pretty!
The puff withdraws as he lets it go, leaving Maelstrom to dust himself off. A white particle cloud wafts up off Maelstrom's shoulders as he jogs the collar of his bright orange Hawaiian shirt. The thick scarred tissue of his face, his thicker neck and the width of his shoulders will be the source of much joy later on as internet videomakers start comparing him to a roided-up pumpkin.
The camera shifts awkwardly before settling into place. The Human Hellstorm glances at the lens before looking at someone offscreen behind the camera.
Staff: Just act natural. Like we're not even here.
Maelstrom: But yer throwin' shit in my eyes here!
Staff: All right, we're ready to go. Action in five...
Maelstrom: Jackass.
The video feed begins.
Demonico Blanco. The luchador. Smallest guy in the ring, but I think that's where you think you'll thrive. Faster'n the rest of us, think we'll bust ourselves apart while you pick apart the remainder. Izzat right?
Don't think I don't like that style a' action. Shows strategy an' the like.
'Course, while you think we can't catch ya, you can't afford 'ta make a mistake bein' so small. I ain't even the biggest guy in there. You get caught by any of us an' we're grind yer bones 'ta make our bread. We're gonna pull ya apart like a barbecued chicken.
Like I'm tellin' everyone, that don't mean I don't want ya 'ta show up. I'll do my best 'ta carry ya. I ain't gonna not let ya do yer thing, but by the end if it we're gonna play it my way. Pillar 'ta post, there ain't gonna be enough Zasshu 'ta pull you outta this. I'm gonna show ya that as much as a man can fly, eventually he's gonna crash land.
They're gonna have a Santo ceremony for ya when it's over.
Though... I gotta ask a question. If you can't answer it, maybe someone else can: you jus' came outta a Man of Steel match. Now, everyone knows what an IWF Man of Steel match is. It's on my list of things 'ta conquer here!
Now, fer the sake a' clarity I'm gonna say, you win these by tapout or knockout. I know I took a lotta hits 'ta the head but I'm used to that. But... I see you win that by pinfall?
I gotta know how ya did that an' that you don't pull somethin' like that on me. I don't wanna lose because Blanco rules means I lose by first blood rules or somethin' even when it ain't the rules of the match. Hah!
Ah, I'm kiddin' though. But trust me. JFK, Addisyn Bait-n-Switch an' myself are gonna let you into the big boys' dance an' you're gonna see where the lines get drawn. The slice a' that pie - why am I talkin' about food so much with you - is gonna be smaller than you like.
Right. That's what I was gonna lead to with this. It ain't that I missed lunch, trust me. What it is with you.
Guys like you? Yer lower on the food chain.
Any case, it's gonna be a show. A show for the ages, the likes a'which yer all gonna remember on videotape forever. 'Cause yer not gonna remember much of it in the ring.
Hah!
Well howdy there pardner.