[STEELE] The Hardest Night Part 5 (Ezriel & Barrat Part 2)

[Steele]

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*In just one night, Jackson Steele's world became just that little bit more... hostile. Already a marked man with a target on his back - or more accurately, over his shoulder in the shape of the AWF Heavyweight Championship - he found himself in the sights of two potential usurpers to his throne, "Prodigy" Bobby Barrett, and "The Dark Prophet" Ezriel. Both men granted a championship shot by Felix Ziko, to take place on the final night of the XHF End Of Days Tournament.*

*Only... there was one small snag.*

*Defending his championship is not to be Jackson's only obligation at the EoD PPV. After three hard-fought matches against wrestlers far more experienced than he is, he found luck firmly on his side as he defeated Curtis Kanyon, then Michael Storm, and most recently Scorpion to advance to the tournament final, where he will meet Shogun-Tron.*

*Sunday, October 30, is shaping up to be the hardest night of Jackson's life. Three opponents, two matches. Make or break. He could be leaving Pittsburgh on top of the world, as both AWF Champion and the XHF End Of Days Champion for 2017.*

*He could just as easily be leaving with nothing.*

*With just three days left until the Pay-Per-View, we are privileged to be able to catch up with Jackson Steele as he prepares.*

*This is his story.*

---

JACKSON STEELE: THE HARDEST NIGHT

PART 5: Ezriel & Bobby Barratt Part 2

"FIGHTING TALK"

---

eXXXstacy stood and watched, incredibly lost and bemused as she watched Jackson silently scream at Harry. She had only popped out for half an hour to pick up some supplies for the group, and when she returned to Harry's back-alley school she found the gym deserted.

Oh by the way - Jackson and eXXXstacy were still at Harry's "Hammer House of Horrors" wrestling school in Rochester, New York. Despite planning to leave the previous day, Harry insisted that they stay for one more day. Jackson's training was not yet complete, he said. That he'd break Jackson's kneecap if he tried to leave now. Maggot.

So they stayed.

eXXXstacy returned from running her errands to discover Jackson and Harry were nowhere to be found. Not in the gym, nor the office, not even in the Gauntlet room.

Pushing open a door that she'd never been through before, eXXXstacy was surprised to find herself looking at what appeared to be a fully-isolated recording studio. Or at least, part of one. There was no recording equipment to be found anywhere, just a "room-within-a-room" that looked a little bit like this:



Ignore the microphone. It's not an actual recording studio, remember?

Through the window eXXXstacy could see Jackson and Harry, apparently locked in one hell of an argument, their shouts reduced to silence to an external observer due to the insulated walls. She was partway through a phone call to her mother, describing the scene.

eXXXstacy: ...yeah I just don't know what the hell they're doing this time. I know Harry's methods are unorthodox but ... yeah! Shouting! Tell me about it! ... Just shouting and falling down ... over and over ... Did I tell you about what he had Jackson doing yesterday? ... no Mom, don't Google it ... remember what I said, NEVER Google Jackson's name ... or mine for that matter ...

Harry picked himself up from another inexplicable fall and then headed for the door to the booth. He pushed it open and eXXXstacy could hear the two men discussing something or other.

eXXXstacy: Oh hang on, they're coming out now. Mom, I'll call you back later. Love you.

She hung up the phone and dropped it into her bag as Harry power-walked up the corridor towards her. He didn't even stop as she turned to talk to him, instead just barking out an instruction.

Harry: Keep yer coat on doll, we're going inta the field.

She watched him walk past, wondering exactly what the hell he meant.

---

IN THE FIELD

---

eXXXstacy struggled to keep up as Jackson and Harry marched with a purpose along the streets of Rochester. And these were the worst streets of Rochester, to boot. Not the sort of place that eXXXstacy would want to find herself left behind and alone on. Despite her repeated questioning, Jackson and Harry remained tight-lipped on the purpose of their excursion - the mystery of which was further compounded by the boys doing their best to remain incognito.

Jackson was in his go-to "I'm just a normal Joe" disguise of a baseball cap pulled down low over his face and a thick jacket with the collar turned up. Harry was wearing his old army uniform from Vietnam, complete with extra camouflage in the shape of half a mulberry bush affixed to the attire.

They slowed down and stopped in front of a run-down dive bar with one boarded-up window and cracks in the foundations. Harry turned to Jackson.

Harry: Alright, maggot! Time to put your skills to the test! This is a live range so LOOK ALIVE, soldier! You'll go in first, take up position at the bar and pick your target! Me and the girl'll come in after you. I'm here to observe, but I'll be your eyes if things get hairy.

*Harry gave Jackson a salute, and Jackson returned it before opening the door to the bar. He headed inside, avoiding the accusing glares from the patrons as he took up his position on a bar stool. The barman was busy polishing a glass that he had no hope in hell of getting clean, much less repairing the cracks in using just a cloth. He looked Jackson over and grunted.

Barman: You drinkin'?

Jackson didn't look up.

Steele: Gimme a shot of your finest cognac.

The barman looked at Jackson like he had a flaming turd hanging out of his mouth.

Barman: Cognac? Finest Cognac? You ain't from round these parts, are ya pal?

Harry and eXXXstacy quietly slipped into the bar and sat down at a table in the back.

Steele: So what if I ain't?

Jackson still didn't look up. The patron on the stool next to Jackson turned to him.

Drunk #1: This here bar only serves beer, pal. And that's how we like it. You got a problem with that?

Steele: Who's asking?

Jackson said, dryly. The guy at the bar didn't look pleased.

Drunk #1: The guy that's gonna kick you ass, that's who pal!

The drunk patron suddenly stood up, his barstool toppling backwards. Jackson immediately followed suit, and squared up to him.

Steele: You think you can kick my ass, huh? Tell me pal - how you gonna kick my ass when I've got your foot cinched up behind your head, twisting your ankle until it snaps?

The drunk patron staggered.

Steele: Can you feel it? Can you feel the fear coursing through your veins? Can you feel the rush of the adrenaline as your body gets ready for "flight or fight"? Knowing that at any second I could be on you, cut you down where you stand?

Harry whispered to eXXXstacy.

Harry: That's a good start... not his usual line of attack, but I told him to switch up his offense a little.

The patron at the bar flapped and fell backwards over his barstool. Realizing what was happening, a second drinker came at Jackson from behind.

Drunk #2: Alright bozo! That's enough outta-

Jackson wheeled round and fixed the man with a stare and a pointed finger.

Steele: Whoooaa there! Nobody tells Jackson Steele "CUT!" This is a shoot pal and don't NOBODY shoot as hard or fast as Jackson Steele!

The second patron backflipped and landed in a heap on the floor.

Harry: BOOM! Signature move!

The patrons in the bar started to mutter among themselves - they heard the name "Jackson Steele" and our hero's cover was blown. Everybody wanted a piece of the famous AWF Champion now.

Three men surrounded Jackson and delivered a brutal sledging so bad that it would have made the Aussie cricket team pack up and go home. The words washed over Jackson and dissipated like water off of a duck's back. Jackson's retort sent the three men flying into the wall of the bar.

Harry: Attaboy Jackson! But don't let up - they're bringing out the big guns!

A group of patrons went rushing off into a back room behind the bar, all shouting and clamoring about fetching their fiercest wordsmith. Seconds later he emerged, enraged, and climbed up onto the bar.

Harry: Oh shit, Jackson look out!

The Big Boss: Steele! You consider yourself the fiercest warrior? Pah! Tremble in fear at my indomitable blitzkrieg! Odious worm, baseborn cur!

Jackson teetered. Harry noticed something.

Harry: Watch out Jackson! He's got a thesaurus! That sonuvabitch is talking dirty!

The Big Boss: Oppose me in combat, pathetic invertebrate! Oppose me, and prepare to meet your inevitable downfall!

Jackson fell backwards onto his ass. Harry jumped up.

Harry: Abort! Let's get the fuck outta here!

Harry rushed over to Jackson and scooped him up, dragging him towards the door. The Big Boss continued to rain down pipebomb after pipebomb as Jackson, Harry and eXXXstacy ran out of the bar. They kept running and didn't stop until they were a safe distance away. Out of breath, eXXXstacy finally managed to ask Harry just what the hell was going on.

Harry: Just trying to brush up Jackson's promos, is all.

eXXXstacy: But... Jackson's promos are fine as they are!

Jackson looked ticked off.

Steele: Hang on... wasn't this whole thing your idea in the first place?

eXXXstacy: Well... yes! But- I meant your research was shit! If I hadn't brought you up here then you would have just kept doing the same old "dress-up" schtick that you always do and you would have gotten your ass handed to you! The point was, you needed to learn about preparation instead of just throwing yourself into a goofy skit! And you did that! You've got an encyclopedic knowledge of Barrat, Ezriel and Shogun-Tron now, not to mention yourself- I figured we'd be home by now though! I don't understand any of what just happened! Why the hell was everybody throwing themselves around the room without a single punch being thrown?

Harry: That's the power of a promo!

eXXXstacy: What? No! None of this makes any sense!

Steele: So... you think I'm ready?

She nodded breathlessly.

eXXXstacy: I'd say so, yes. Just stick to the tried-and-trusted basics, Jackson. Outline your intentions. Back up with examples. Close out with a statement of intent. That's all you need to worry about.

Harry: Hmm. She speaks a lot of sense.

eXXXstacy: Sometimes I think I'm the only one that does...

Jackson brushed himself off and decided that he was ready. Barring one more thing. Something that he still had yet to do himself.

---

THREE HOURS LATER.

---

Heinz Field. Early evening. The arena was empty, save for the home team going over drills down on the field. It's immaterial if that's not actually where they practice. For the purposes of THIS roleplay, they totally do.

The coach called his players together in a huddle to break down their last drill, when suddenly a deafening roar came over the speakers as Pornosonic's Spyderpussy filled the air.

The players on the field looked up into the stands as Jackson Steele made his way into the seating area, walking down the steps in full regalia with the AWF Championship belt over his shoulder and eXXXstacy following behind. He carried a microphone in his hand.

Steele: Ladies and more ladies, my name is Jackson Steele, and I am your AWF Heavyweight Champion!

Nobody clapped, the players just looked on, they had grown used to this sort of thing over the past week or so.

Steele: You know, it's fitting that I'm here tonight in - PITTSBURGH, P.A! - the site of this Sunday's End Of Days Pay Per View, where I will go up against not one, not two, not four, but THREE other opponents in TWO matches to become the ONE AND ONLY king of the XFH aas I not only defend my AWF Championship belt, but I win the End Of Days Tournament...

He paused for dramatic effect.

Steele: Because what better place to get to the top of the mountain, than in the STEELE CITY itself!

He paused again, for applause that never came.

Steele: So you might be wondering... just how in the hell do I pull off such an amazing feat... well let me tell all my little Steelers something.

Some of the players grumbled at being called "little". Jackson meant no harm by the phrase, that's just what he calls his fans.

Steele: If there's one thing that Jackson Steele has proven time and time again, it's that pulling off is my specialty! And when amazing feet are involved, it only makes it easier for me!

eXXXstacy gave him a nudge to try and keep him on track.

Steele: Now this Sunday night is gonna be one long, hard night, it really is. And let me tell you why. Because Bobby Barratt...

A pause for boos. No boos.

Steele: Ezriel...

Another pause for boos, and still Jackson doesn't get it.

Steele: And Shogun-Tron...

One of the players cheers. Huh. Must be an old-school XHF'er.

Steele: Have to step into the ring and come face-to-face with me. And let me tell you something else - that's no easy task. Just ask Bray Wyatt. Ask Curtis Kanyon. Ask David Tennant and Lou Ferrigno. Because I've beaten them all and if I can beat The Incredible Hulk, just think about what I can do to three mortal men.

Or... one mortal man, a demonic cultist and a robot from ...THE FUTURE... I dunno, I'm not sure what's real and what's not any more.

Another elbow into the ribs from eXXXstacy.

Steele: You see, for weeks I've been feeling like the prey. Like I'm the one with something to prove. But this past week I've had an epiphany. I have nothing to prove because I already proved it. I already proved that I've got balls the size of grapefruits when I wrestled with a poorly freakin' neck and beat Alexei Kyznetsov, one of the baddest guys in this business, TWICE. I beat THREE legends of the game back-to-back and I hate to sound like a broken record but that is no easy task.

ONE MAN has had the skill to pin my shoulders to the mat for a three-count. ONE MAN. And that's a guy who holds multiple championships in multiple companies. A man who has been around the world and fought in some of the most barbaric matches on record. And I still came out of that match with my championship around my waist.

So Barratt, Ezriel... forget your A-Game, you're gonna need to invent a whole new alphabet to describe the sort of game you'll need to bring if you want to take this strap from me.

So let's talk about Bobby first. Bobby - I wanna like you, I really do. You're doing this for your dear old gran and if it wasn't me you were going up against I'd be cheering you on all the way. But you wanna call me a "prosthetic-cock wobbling extra? If I had a bell I'd ring it and chant "SHAME" for you having the temerity to utter those words because let me level with you "me old china" - Jackson Steele always has been and always will be the main event! And just ask any of the ladies in attendance tonight...

He indicated the empty stands.

Steele: And they'll all tell you the same thing - that there is absolutely NOTHING prosthetic about Jackson Steele, baby! I am 100% all-natural, free from ANY artificial ingredients!

Now I could stand up here and tear you down - say that you whined and wheedled your way into this match and that you don't deserve the opportunity to stand in the ring against me but, honestly... I'm not gonna do that. That's not my style. I tried to be the bad guy, I tried to run my mouth against Storm and it backfired. I will look you dead in the eyes and tell you... "I respect you." I respect the hell out of you, I've seen your body of work - as I'm sure you've seen my "body of work" - and I was impressed by what I saw. You've definitely got what it takes to be in this match. But do you have what it takes to win? My mind is made up. On Sunday night, Jackson Steele goes over you, he goes over Ezriel, and he goes over Shogun-Tron because baby you better believe it, Jackson Steele always ends the night on top!

He pauses to let the non-existent audience take in his joke. A couple of the players resume their training.

Steele: Now I would be foolish to give Bobby Barratt all the attention and not show you some loving too, Ezriel. And just like Barratt, I respect you too. I knew this day was coming, from the moment we first crossed paths after my qualifying match all those weeks back. You've kept quiet and bided your time, working in the shadows to get what you wanted. And now, here I am. You have me. It would have been good to go one-on-one with you and tear the house down but now the script has been flipped.

You told your girlfriend - and don't lie to yourself, I've got a keen eye for these sorta things - that I'm just living the high life. Well maybe I am. But that high life is the life that I earned for myself by being the best damn worker in my previous career, and it's the life that I will keep on earning for myself by being the best damn worker in THIS one. See while me and Barratt may be very much alike, you and I couldn't be further from each other. You paint your face to hide the real you, while I lived the past decade in the spotlight, literally naked and on display for the whole world to see. There are no secrets with Jackson Steele, Ezriel. What you see is what you get - and that is two-hundred and thirty-one pounds of lean, ripped, ravishingly gorgeous muscle raining down on you to keep what is rightfully mine!

The AWF Championship that you so desperately want. But so does everybody else, Ezriel. I know that. I know I'm a marked man, and I don't need one of your special coins to tell me so.

Sunday night. Ezriel. Bobby Barratt. I've put a lot of time and effort, blood, sweat and quite literal tears into preparing for you. As much as I fully expect to come out victorious, I'm expecting a war for this belt.

Don't disappoint me, boys.

He stared hard into the empty air where one might expect a hard camera to be, before finally adding;

Steele: And Shogun-Tron - don't think I've forgotten about you. Now I don't know if you've gotten lost in ...THE FUTURE... or something, but I'm gonna play fortune teller and make a prediction right now, that you're not gonna just lay down and die so easily. I'll be watching the Network closely, and I'll be ready.

He dropped the microphone and it bounced down the steps with a loud thud over the speakers with every hit. Spyderpussy started up again, and Steele turned back and left the way he came.

The players on the field scratched their heads and resumed their training.


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