01-05-2015, 06:42 AM
British Airways, en route from Heathrow Airport to LAX. Stopover in Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta International Airport. SIMON LYSTER, “THE SPINE TWISTER” sits in the crown room, relaxing and sipping a Laphroiag 18, neat, prior to reboarding.
He speaks into his laptop.
“Not much time and not much content, gentlemen, which seems to be this week’s theme for my opponents’ contributions. Still, you’ve raised a few talking points, albeit belatedly, and as a professional I should address them.
“Mr. WALLACE: Your biopic is very gripping, and were I a sociologist studying the human cost of the misguided American War on Drugs and its relationship to the pathologies of the inner city, I’m sure it would make fertile fodder for a doctoral dissertation.
“Sadly, I am merely a wrestler and can speak primarily to content pertaining to wrestling, of which there seems to be remarkably little here.
“By way of one last… what’s a phrase you’ll understand?… Hail Mary pass to broach a subject pertinent to our actual match: By your own admission… and notably verified by your footage… you’re weak on counters. Against me, that’s suicide. Paralyzer. Or Compressor. Done.
“Mr. DEADLY: I’m glad to see you’ve finished walking the mystic pathways of Atlantis to bother to show up for our match.
“I’m also gratified your Eye of Horus has gifted you with sufficient clairvoyance to recognize the indisputable fact that I am a superior wrestler. However, it’s too bad your Eye didn’t also provide you sufficient… what’s the word?... postcognition to realize that I served a tour of duty in a rather savage Japanese puroresu league. Run by some rather savage nine-fingered gentlemen. I held my own. They called me Igirisu no Yokai… I’ll translate as “British Monster” because, well, anata ga nihongo wo hanasemasen, ne?
“Excuse the disrespectful pronoun, but you’ll have to get used to it. Much more disrespect is on the way during our match.
“In any event, I’m no stranger to baseball bats, barbed wire, even chairs. I don’t care for them, but I’ve held my own against both members of Black Angel Harajuku at once, so I think I can manage.
"To your specific example: If you can’t get me in an arm lock… and you can’t… and you swing a chair at me, then…
"Let’s see, given that your height and build gives you a reach of approximately 191 centimeters, and given the fact that a steel chair weighs roughly 4.5 kilos, I’d sidestep and then deflect the chair, pushing at an oblique angle but more or less perpendicular to the swing, clockwise from my perspective to a radius of approximately 51 degrees. I’d then step in to your left and take you to the mat with an o-soto-gare throw.
"At this point it’s Paralyzer as normal, except that out of spite I’d also lock in the chair with the body vise, using it as a fulcrum to shatter your pelvis in addition to snapping your neck and back.
"You wouldn’t be able to feel it with a snapped neck, of course, but I’d feel bad for the nurse who’ll spend the next six months picking bone shards out of your colostomy bag.
“Otherwise: Your Eye of the Pyramid is a vicious move, yes. Your Mortal Engine… needs work, but who am I to say… maybe with another 30,000 years or so of training under the high priests of Atlantis, you might be able to correct its glaring deficiencies.
“At the end of the day, though, gentlemen: Winning is not primarily about moves or savagery or heart. 90% of winning is preparation.
“DEADLY: You claim no can no longer afford to underestimate anyone. But you did. You both did.
“You didn’t take our match seriously. You didn’t stay on point. You didn’t do your homework or put in the effort to know whom you’re facing. Against me, that’s not only insane, it’s disrespectful.
“Your next homework assignment, then: Wading through thousands of pages of Americans with Disabilities Act claim forms.
“See you in Los Angeles. And after having faced me, you’ll be living proof of that old song from the ‘80s:
“Nobody walks in L.A.”
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