*Gator stands in his living room in his home in Boston, he is smoking whilst on the phone*

“So you dug anything up on D’Ville?”

SCARLETT: “Nada.”

“Seriously? Nothing at all?”

SCARLETT: “Dude’s a ghost. Nothing since he joined XWF. It’s easy to tell he isn’t a real doctor but not much more.”

“Great. Thanks anyway Scarlett.”

SCARLETT: “I’ll keep trying.”

“Okay, I’ll see you soon.”

SCARLETT: “Bye Jacob.”

*Gator clicks on the phone and throws it to the couch. He rubs his eyes and mask and takes a long drag on the cigarette*

“Todd, any word of the Doc?”

T: “New promo. He can’t say my name right either.”

“Well surnames can be difficult. But, Moschitti isn’t that hard. Maybe the good doctor is illiterate or maybe inaccuracies are just part of his nature. Anything else?”

T: “He’s hired an ex detective to find someone who is following him.”

“... You don’t think?”

T: “No. She hasn’t been following him has she?”

“Not that I know of. I swear to God is that balding fuck lays a hand on Scarlett... You know what, no. He’s bullshitting again, just trying to make me angry. Fuck him. What else?”

*Gator takes a seat on the couch next to his Television title*

T: “Not much else, he never heard of J-Pro before he knew you apparently.”

“HA! And he calls himself a wrestler. Dumb fuck doesn’t know what other feds exist around the world. If he never knew about J-Pro, why was he so concerned with my history there?”

T: “I dunno. He dropped the subject pretty quickly once you proved him wrong.”

“What a fucking disgrace. Let me get this straight, he talks about J-Pro, but he knows nothing about it and he talks about me, but knows nothing about me. What the hell is wrong with this guy? When I make mistakes I at least try to rectify them, but this idiot is still parading around with his ignorance. And know he’s got a detective to do some job; maybe he can do a better job of researching his opponent. I don’t know a lot about D’Ville, but I know what he’s done since he got here at the very least, a whole lot of hiding in the crowd. Getting lucky; winning matches were he can take a breather and let the others do some real work. Well, he’s fucked now. One on one and that clock is ticking. Can you hear it D’Ville? That 15 minute time limit? That clock counting down to show me why you earned this title shot.”

“Tick, tock.”

“Tick, tock.”

“That is the theme music for your end D’Ville. I hope you find solace in it, my friend.”




“Well, this is going to be good.”

*Gator places the empty bottle on his dresser table*

“Wanna come with?”

*Hernandez relaxes on the couch and downs the rest of his beer*

“Why not, got nothing better to do.”

*Hernandez places the empty bottle on the floor and stands up. Both men adjusts there mask back to normal and walk out of the dressing room, walking down the hall following the young Asian woman quickly walking ahead of them*

“What do you think he wants?”

“Probably some words of encouragement.”

I knew what he was going to say. Same thing he always used to say before I went into a big match. Oh, and just to clarify. This was when my dad was still a pretty sound guy. He was an asshole to most people, but he was okay with me. It was some time later when he turned into the intolerable fuck I know and loathe. Father issues are a bit of a cliché aren’t they? But, they happen. When your dad is headstrong and thinks he’s the hottest shit in the world, his ego gets the better of him. That’s when your father, the man who brought you into this world, tells you what he really thinks of you.

A mistake.

Nothing more, nothing less; the joys of being a son. I hope I never had kids, my ego is pretty bad already; what happens when I have children of my own to pass judgement on.

*The woman the pair have followed reaches an open door and bows as Gator and Hernandez walk in. Eddie Woods sits on a leather chair lifting a dumbbell, his muscles bulging with every lift. He looks up at Gator and Hernandez and smiles, he drops the weight and sits back in his chair*

“There’s my boy.”

“Hey dad.”

“Hello Mr. Woods.”

“Hernandez, always good to see you. I hear you’ve been training Jake.”

“I’ve been trying but he really sucks.”

*Eddie lets out a deep laugh*

“Hey now, I’ve been training Jacob since he was a child. He’s a damn good contender now.”

“Of course Mr. Woods.”

“You two done with the pillow talk?”

“HAHA! Okay, I wanted to talk to you about your match. McCormack is one cold mother fucker.”

“He’s alright. Reminds me of Lenny form Of Mice & Men.”

“I agree. He can break a puppy’s neck, but can he snap a Gator’s?”

“I don’t think he can.”

“Nor do I.”

*Eddie stands to his feet and grabs a bottle of water from a mini fridge. He twists the cap and takes a long swig. Gator and Hernandez stand still next to one another. Eddie takes the bottle away from his lips and releases a satisfied ah*

“What will you do to win Jacob?”

Here we go.

“Anything.”

“Good to know, because you might have to tonight.”

“I know the deal dad, aim for the knees. Take him down, crush him under his weight yadda yadda.”

Idiot

“Aiming for the knees is for high flyers like Hernandez.”

*Hernandez’s eyes shift and he looks worried for a few seconds*

“What do you do against a powerhouse?”

“Out manoeuvre him, tire him out and use his weight against him.”

“There we go, the bigger they are.”

“The harder they fall.”

*Eddie chuckles*

“You know how important this match is to me Jacob.”

“To you?”

“You’re not just fighting for yourself or your title. You’re fighting for your family, you lose, we all lose.”

“No pressure then.”

“Enough jokes. This is important. Go now, train or rest. Just be ready.”

*Gator and Hernandez walk out of the room and back down the hallway. Hernandez goes to say something but stops himself*

You know when you’re a kid and break something, and one of your parents says ‘I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed.’ You know how soul crushing that is? That’s what it feels like every single time I talk to my dad. Even when he says something nice to me, I look into his eyes and see that blank uncaring stare. The only reason says kind words is because he has to as a father, he says those words because he knocked up some groupie and stuck with her because of guilt. I know that, and I’ve accepted that.

He’s always been there for me. I love him for that. He raised me and took care of me, but he’s a bitter man. A cruel man. I scraped my knee and he poured salt into the wound. But, I accepted that was just the way he was, I couldn’t change him. No one could.

He moulded me into the man you see before you. A champion. I hate him for what he has done, but I thank him at the same time. If it wasn’t for my dad, I would be some skinny pencil pusher in a dead end job. No hopes or prospects. He made me a champion and I will remain a champion. No matter if I lose a title I will remain a champion.

No matter what anyone says or does, I will remain a champion.

I prove myself day in and day out in this fucking business because I remain a champion.

You want to take this belt from me? You’ll have to pry it from my cold dead hands. Because, even when I die, I will remain a champion and my legacy will be forged into the history books. People will remember my name and what I stood for, and no matter how hard people try, they will not take that away from me.

You want a fight? You’ve got a goddamn fight with one of the greatest wrestlers who ever lived!

“You look really pissed off.”

*Gator has his fists clenched walking down the hall. He lets out a deep breath*

“I’m just tense I guess.”

TO BE CONCLUDED...