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Centurion · (02-11-2021)

(Centurion is known for being a bit of an “old school” kind of wrestler.

In fact, that might be putting it lightly. Centurion wrestled before there even was a school. Back when “old school” was considered “the future”. As such, he likes his wrestling to be pretty basic and straight forward. No need to get too complicated. Suplexes, holds, punches – do enough to wear an opponent out, and pick up the victory.

So you would think that his upcoming match would be completely out of his element – the Candy Weapons Match. And yet, Centurion is walking into it rather giddy. He is strangely looking forward to the match, so much so that he decided to try and pick out his own weapons.

We open up inside a place called “Clyde’s Candies” somewhere in the Chicago area. There, we see an entire store room filled with various candies, and two people running the place. A rather large, effeminate man is standing behind a glass counter, placing various chocolates and candies into display boxes. The other person is an old woman, who is sitting toward the back of the shop with her arms crossed, looking half asleep, like a Bernie Sanders at the inauguration cosplayer, only without the mittens. After a few seconds, the front door to the shop opens up, and in walks Centurion with his daughter, Nellie. The bell dings as the door opens, and the man behind the counter pops his head up.)

Clyde: Hi! Welcome to Clyde’s! Let me know if I can help you find anything!

(Centurion and Nellie walk over to one of the shelves of candies, and begin examining them.)

Nellie: Jelly beans?

Centurion: Have you ever stepped on a jelly bean? They would do more damage to the mat then they would somebody’s foot.

Nellie: Yeah, but if you get a bunch of the black ones, you can toss them into your opponent’s mouth, causing them to vomit profusely and be unable to continue the match.

Centurion: Good point, but I don’t know how I’m going to Karen that black jelly beans are a Valentine’s Day candy. She’ll probably take them away from me if I showed up to the arena with them.

(The two continue to look at different shelves and displays, further catching the attention of Clyde behind the counter. He stops placing candy in the display cases and stands up straight.)

Clyde: Is there something in particular you’re looking for?

Centurion: No...well, I don’t know, honestly.

Clyde: Well, tell me a bit about the lovely person you’re getting these for, and maybe I can help ya out!

Centurion: I’m not getting them “for” anyone. Not exactly, anyway. I mean...this is going to sound weird, but I have a fight in a few days, and part of that fight is the ability to use Valentine’s Day candy as a weapon. So I’m kind of just looking for stuff that’s hard and themes that I can use to hurt someone with.

(Clyde looks at Centurion with a stoic look on his face. He takes a few seconds to look at Centurion. Centurion, thinking he may have freaked out the man or offended him, takes a deep breath and gets ready to apologize. Instead, Clyde yells over to the old lady.)

Clyde: MA! Watch the store! ...follow me.

(The old lady doesn’t move, except for the slightest of nods. Clyde gestures to Centurion and Nellie to go behind the counter, which they do. The three of them walk into a back room, and approach a locked, wooden door.)

Clyde: You can’t tell anyone this is here.

(Clyde pulls out a key from his pocket and opens the door, which leads down into a dark basement. Clyde pulls a string to turn on a very dim light, and he walks down the steps first, followed by Centurion and then Nellie. The steps give out a nasty creek as they walk down them.)

Centurion: Are you planning on murdering us, Clyde? Or, like...doing weird stuff to us?

Clyde: Oh honey, neither of you are my type. And if I wanted to kill you, I wouldn’t do it where only I would be a suspect. I mean, come on, that’s silly!

Centurion: That’s...a relief?

(The three get to the bottom of the stairs, and Clyde flips a rather large switch on the wall. As he does, large industrial lights illuminate the basement. Centurion and Nellie are shocked by what they see – large boxes filled with unique, one of a kind candy, as well as various mixing stands and ovens that make the place looks like some sort of underground meth lab. Clyde walks forward through the boxes, and Centurion and Nellie continue to follow him, keeping their eyes out for everything.)

Clyde: There is a candy maker in Peoria named George Neidermeister...

(Clyde stops, squints his eyebrows, and shakes his fist.)

Clyde: Neidermeister...

(Clyde snaps out of it and keeps walking forward)

Clyde: He claims to be the best candy maker in Illinois. Obviously, that is complete bullshit, but I can’t compete with him on a statewide level since he is an heir to the Neidermeister Cheese fortune, so he has all the money in the world. So, I have been working on new things to help even the score. Some of them are neat, sweet creations, and others...are far more cynical.

(Clyde walks up to a box and opens it up. He pulls out a giant bag of candy hearts, which he hands over to Centurion. He reaches into the bag and pulls out a few of the hearts, which he places on a table in front of him.)

Clyde: Would you like some?

Centurion: Uh...no, I’m good, thanks.

(Clyde just shrugs before he takes a pestle on the table and begins to pound the hearts into a fine dust. After he does that, he bends over and snorts the candy dust, causing Centurion and Nellie to get a disgusted look on their face. Clyde violently shakes his head before turning back to them.)

Clyde: Those hearts are about three years old. They are great for a kick, but they’re also harder than frozen dog shit. Stepping on one of those is as bad as stepping on a Lego. If you’re really into kinky shit, you can freeze them and have your partner throw them at your chest.

(Clyde continues to walk forward as Nellie and Centurion continue to look at each other in confusion. Centurion hands the large bag of candy hearts over to Nellie, who nearly stumbles toward under the weight. Clyde walks up to another box and stops.)

Clyde: Tell me a bit about the people you’re looking to beat up.

Centurion: Well, one is some bratty kid. About 16 or so. Wasn’t really my first choice of opponents, but it is what it is. The second is a veteran – been around for a while, but not really that impressive of a resume. He’s been in a scrape or few before, though.

(Clyde lets out a “hmm” before opening up the box that he is standing in front of.)

Clyde: You ever hear of a jawbreaker?

Centurion: Of course I’ve heard of a jawbreaker.

Clyde: Allow me to introduce to you...the backbreaker.

(Clyde pulls out a jawbreaker, but it is rather large – almost the size of a baseball. He hands it over to Centurion, who looks at it.)

Centurion: I mean, this is neat, but it’s a large jawbreaker. What’s so special about it?

Clyde: What’s so special?!

(Clyde takes the jawbreaker back and throws it, as hard as he can, against the brick basement wall. The jawbreaker does not break – in fact, a small chip is taken out of the wall where the jawbreaker hits. The jawbreaker flies back at them, causing Clyde to grab Centurion and hit the floor. The jawbreaker then goes threw a box on a shelf against the wall with such force that the box moves, causing a whole stack of boxes to fall off the shelf. Centurion and Clyde both stand up, and Centurion’s eyes are wide.)

Clyde: That son of a bitch is so tightly packed with purified sugar that it’s the equivalent of holding a ball made out of pure cement. You hit someone with that, and they’re not getting back up.

(Centurion looks back at the wall, then back at the fallen boxes, before turning back toward Clyde.)

Centurion: I’ll take all you’ve got.

Clyde: Now...let me show you my pride and joy.

(Clyde points to a table at the back of the room, where a long metal box sits. He walks towards it, and Centurion follows. They get to the box, and Clyde reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small key. He unlocks the case, and inside sits a large, plastic tube with some sort of trigger on it.)

Clyde: This...is the Pixie Launcher 9000. This is what happens when you weaponize a pixie stick. This large canon is filled to the brim with colorized sugar. You hit that trigger, and a 200 PSI blast of air pressure shoots the sugar like a fucking canon.

(Clyde gently lifts the launcher and hands it over to Centurion, who gazes at it with marvel and wonder. He looks the canon up and down with a giant smile on his face.)

Centurion: Oh....yyyeeaahhh.....

------Traveling In The World Of My Creation------

Who’s ready to get fucking weird?

There have been a lot of times in the past where I have criticized the XWF for the bullshit matches it has put together. I’ve seen ball pits, explosive ropes, matches where you fight cardboard cutouts, and whatever the hell Vinnie is doing over on Anarchy, and over the years, I noticed that all it’s doing it making me look cranky. I’m old. I have to get with the times. So while my dislike for those weird matches remains, I also accept that I am in the minority, and it’s up to the current generation, not old dudes like me, to decide the direction of professional wrestling.

But this match? A candy weapons match? Hell yeah. I’m all about it.

Is it because my doctors tell me I should avoid eating a lot of sugar at my age, and therefore this is an opportunity for me to just do whatever the hell I want without the folks around me getting on my case about it? Probably, but it’s also more than that. It’s an opportunity for me to spread my wings a bit. To show that I’m more than just a “put someone in a hold and make them hurt” kind of guy. I have more to me then that. I can be hip and cool, too.

Also, this is a hell of a lot less dangerous than a rooftop brawl. Have you ever killed a man, Arkin? Probably not. Let me tell you, it’s not as fun as the movies make it seem. There’s a lot of paperwork. People in the news like to talk to you. Oh, and did you know, when you throw a person off the top of Lambeau Field, you’re in charge of the sanitation fees to Green Bay Waste Management? Yeah, and those mother fuckers up charge you, too. Who needs three garbage trucks? War Horse was a skinny fucker! They were just using me to generate some additional revenue. You have to watch out for that stuff, Arkin. Those are the kinds of things they don’t teach you in high school.

So yeah, I’m excited for a candy weapons match. I plan on sprinting down to that ring and rolling around in candy dust like some coked up Willy Wanka. I’ll slam people into a pile of Necco candy hearts, and then I’ll EAT those hearts, because they’re actually really good, and you all just don’t like them because you’re hipsters.

Well, except the purple ones. The purple ones taste like turpentine.
You ever been beaten to death with a box of chocolates, Hanari? You know, mama always said “life is like a box of chocolates. It’s enjoyable until someone beats your ass with it.” I can think of some fun gimmicks with the chocolate boxes. Rid up some separate chocolates and bring them to the ring. Bite into one, Strawberry Creame. Bite into another, cyanide. Just a thought – I haven’t figured out all my plans yet.

Most importantly, I plan on having fun. I plan on running to that ring and acting like a kid again. I plan on going in with the mentality I had when I was brand new in this business – the idea that every new match is a new opportunity. You never know when a match could become your “specialty”. Who knows, maybe I’ll become known as the “candy weapons” dude. I did beat Melanee Childs last year in a Halloween Candy match. Holy hell, maybe I AM becoming the “candy weapons” dude. When we get to Easter and we’re wrestling in a giant basket filled with jelly beans and chocolate eggs, you’re all fucked.

Yeah, I’m going to have fun…because I’m sure as hell not going to struggle.

Let’s face it, the outcome of this match has already been determined. Arkin can come in with as much gumption as he wants, and Hanari can try to prove he’s a bad ass, but in the end, I’m still Centurion. I’m still a fucking legend. And while I might lose now more than I did in the past, I lose to good talent. I don’t lose to kids, or folks that should have transitioned to acting years ago. I lose to people who are better than me.

Arkin and Hanari? They’re not better than me. Not even in the slightest.

I’m happy you’re not intimidated by me, Arkin. That’s good. It would be a real shame for you to step into the ring and be intimidated. It would pretty much guarantee your career would be over before it starts, because I’m not going out there to beat the hell out of you, but if you were out there with, say, Charlie Nichols? Oh, he’d hurt you real bad, especially if he sensed fear in you.

But even you have to admit, you’re punching way above your weight class in this one. You’re supposed to be eased into this business. Your first matches should be against Liam Roberts or Ash Quinn or…I don’t know…Geri Vayden. Someone to help you get some wins under your belt and boost your confidence. But hey, good on you for having that “fighting spirit”. That and dollar can get you a cup of coffee and an ass whopping on Saturday.

And Hanari…poor, sweet Hanari. Have you ever been in a candy match, Hanari? This is probably way out of your element, isn’t it, hombre? Not just because it’s a brand new match type for you, but you seem like the kind of person who doesn’t enjoy sweets. You always struck me as someone who only ate bitter or bland foods. Like, you soak plywood in whiskey and eat that for dinner. You’d steal candy from a child, but only for the laughs.

Does not matter. Whether you’re brand new to this genre or you’re a veteran, there is no denying what you’re up against on Sunday. Not only are you facing someone with triple the amount of skill and quadruple the amount of charisma as you, but you’re also facing a candy GOD. And when I drown your ass in pixie dust and place a lollipop on your grave, people won’t be saying “hey, that’s Centurion, the incredibly talented and incredibly sexy legend.” They will be saying “hey, that’s Centurion, the Candyman!” Because who can?

The Candyman can!

Fuck, that dude was right about snorting candy powder!

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