Post by Abdul bin Hussain on Apr 15, 2020 15:09:53 GMT -5
Stockholm, Sweden.
The limousine bounced over a too-deep rain gutter as it headed towards the restaurant.
It was supposed to be a classy, overwhelmingly beautiful restaurant which seemed to be in some kind of converted red-brick townhouse, facing onto a bustling downtown street, right across from a luxury hotel.
Outside the front of the restaurant a limousine slowly pulled up. There was full valet parking provided but it did not need that. The valet ran up to the limousine and held open the limousine’s back door, and guests exited. It was the wrestler known as Abdul bin Hussain and his manager Rafiq.
Abdul was dressed in traditional Arabic white thaub and kaffiyeh. He looked towards the paparazzi who were taking their photograph because as most of the world was in lockdown Sweden was the only country that had not bowed down to the peer pressure of the rest of the world. The virus had its grips on the planet but Sweden had decided to put two fingers up to the world.
They were walked under a well-lit canopy to the wooden double doors. A maître d’ directed them towards the well-appointed bar; if they so desired but after Abdul gave them a look of utter disdain he motioned them directly to the table they had reserved.
The restaurant was decorated throughout in subdued, warm colours based around a burgundy palette, and the atmosphere was both sophisticated and relaxed. This was a place for the in crowd to dine, to host and to be seen. Candlelit booths were nestled in warm corners, each set comfortably apart from the rest. Vaulted ceilings carry and reflect the light, conveying flattering illumination to every place in the site.
The cuisine had a French Mediterranean focus, and the tantalizing scent of spice and baking bread was in the air. It was fully packed. The bar was surrounded by seated patrons enjoying a drink, the tables are all occupied and bartenders, waiters and hostesses are busily moving back and forth making sure every customer was content.
A lot of them stopped and stared as Abdul and his majorly overweight manager were led across to their table. Rafiq sat down but the seat braced itself from the weight. He then accepted the menu from the maître d’ as Abdul looked about him at the looks they were getting.
Was it because Abdul was of Arabic descent? Maybe; or just because one side of his face had a huge scar upon? Very possible.
He sat down opposite Rafiq and accepted the menu.
“Can I get you gentlemen some drinks before you order?” the maître d’ asked with some dodgy French accent.
“Do we look like infidels that drink alcohol?” Abdul asked. “Just get us some water and we will motion for you when we want to order some food from your establishment.”
“I am sorry sir?” the maître d’ said.
“Water, now leave,” Rafiq said before he turned towards Abdul. “So I have had this deal come in Abdul, it comes from a television network that is trying to put on a pay per view even in this trying times. It would once again get your face upon the screens of the sheep. The show was supposed to be originally coming from somewhere down in Italy but due to the Pandemic they are now having it shot entirely on their very own luxury boat. The XHF Rumble is going to be an interesting event that needs a bit of you in it.”
Abdul smirked as he looked at his manager, “This virus has dried up the work for all us independent contractors. We are lucky that Sweden has not stopped and gone into full lockdown just yet but it will do sometime. I would not show my face from the embarrassment if I was to lose this match whatever it is Rafiq, so it better be a good one. “
“That is correct,” Rafiq said. “Even though you are probably a loose cannon going into this match that is probably one of the reasons that you will do well. The mystery of you will make them wary of what you can do is what will keep them on edge. The will try and take you out because of their bigotry and racist upbringings.”
“So all of these other wrestling promotions probably believe that they have this Rumble match at the pay per view all sewn up do they Rafiq?” Abdul asked. “The more members of their promotions are within this match rules; but the winner’s prize can only be claimed by one person. Sacrifices will need to be made my friend. Do you think half of the rosters egos will let any of their own rosters get their grubby little hands on that win? Do you? I know what their sort is like Rafiq. They forget that I have seen their sort before. Nothing changes.”
Rafiq nodded. “But with the numbers in their favour they must be the favourites going into the Rumble match? All of these rosters working together eliminating all of the other people in the match……until one of them screws the others over for the lure of that win Abdul.”
“True,” Abdul mused. “They cannot see the real story in this whole thing; they cannot see the inevitable that the winner of the championship belt will be the Butcher of Basra. I will do anything that I can do to get one step closer to that. And taking that win will be that one step. I can see that as I know what is going to happen in that ring. Remember I held the UTA Championship and actually never lost it as it was stripped from me due to the racism within the UTA management so now that I’m in this match will XHF be any different? Who knows?”
“Maybe you should use that as your motivation to claim what Akeed couldn’t do?” Rafiq asked. “I can picture their faces when you are the last one standing in the squared circle and shock the world…….”
“Shock the world?” Abdul said interrupting Rafiq. “Shock the world? It is mine to take Rafiq. I will be left standing and then take out their paper champion once and for all. The debt that they owe me for stealing Akeed’s dreams by taking that belt from his grasp is unpayable Rafiq. Once I claim that belt I will not waste it. I might even be that kind of competitor and defend it every chance I get and not like the past ones do. Can you imagine that Rafiq? Abdul bin Hussain pins the champion because the title motivates him more then I run out to the ring and destroy him for that World Championship? Can you picture it?”
A waitress brought a tray of drinks to the table. She smiled awkwardly at Abdul slightly as she put it down.
Abdul nodded and turned back to Rafiq.
“The whole of this Rumble match seems to thrive on chaos,” Abdul stated. “And I will be the one that will bring it to this match. At the end of the Pay per view I tell you now they will not be talking about any other person that was in that match or even the sham of a World Champion but they will be talking about Abdul bin Hussain. Do you understand the significance of this Rafiq?”
“I do Abdul,” Rafiq said. “Probably more than most. I know how you got screwed when you were top of the pile. The professional wrestling fraternity screwed you and threw you a bone by including you in the Rumble match as some kind of gesture of hope for you.”
“Hope?” Abdul asked abruptly. “Every man in this match who has rotted away, wasting their potential will look up to that idea of being the new champion and imagine what that could bring to their career. They will sit like shipwrecked men turning to sea water from uncontrollable thirst as they see me climbing that invisible ladder to get one step closer to what Akeed should have had. There will be true despair in their eyes as I grasp the championship belt at the end of the night.”
“And the women in the match?” Rafiq said.
“Women?” Abdul mocked as the corner of his mouth lifted in a contemptuous smile. “They don’t even make the attempt to cover their modesty whilst mocking the world with their blatant whorish ways. None of them should be in the ring with the likes of me as they are mere women. Not even worthy of my time. How do you want me to act with them in this match? Do you want me to be nice to them?”
“Be nice……..” Rafiq started. “Until you do not need to be nice anymore Abdul. Make a statement to the world. Women are nothing but personal property to someone be it their father’s or husband’s and those that try to break the cycle need to be punished.”
Abdul furrowed his brow as he took this all in.
“We will have to talk over strategies at a later date Rafiq,” Abdul said. “Some of the promotions represented will work together until one of them gets too greedy and stabs the others in the back. What people seem to forget is that I am the best pound for pound wrestler in the entire wrestling industry. I will steal this show Rafiq and then they will believe that I am more than just a wrestler from Iraq. The others are like cockroaches, I will hunt them down. They can be found everywhere, hidden in the cracks, coming out of their locker room. Those infidels must be destroyed.”
“It is hurtful how they look at us just because of the colour of our skin and what our people have perpetrated,” Rafiq said. “It is just blatant racism, pure and simple. They will pay for what they have done to our people. This is more than oil, this is just personal now. What do you need to bring to the ring? Scimitars?”
“I will not be saddled with this terrorist gimmick that they have saddled me with,” Abdul said. “I am more than what they think I am. I am Abdul bin Hussain, and I hate them all for what they are doing to me. Not only will the men feel my wrath but also the women in that ring. They will all be shocked at what I am willing to do to prove a point Rafiq.”
A waitress was waiting off to the side. She looked like she was trying to get their attention without making it to blatantly obvious. Abdul ignored her and took a swig of the water. He gave a look of utter contempt before putting the glass back down. “Even the water in this country is disgusting, full of all sorts of chemicals; These Infidel’s will put anything into their bodies but I digress. With their racial stereotyping I will use it as a weapon against them.”
“What?” Rafiq asked. “What have you got in mind?”
“Rafiq, there will be carnage; and no conisation at all in it. They have awakened a sleeping djinn, and filled me with a terrible resolve,” Abdul smirked as he caressed the scars on his face. “I will let you know shortly as I believe after this virus has been eradicated and we find it has left lasting effects on you not only you Rafiq but the world. You may deny it but I see the change in you my friend. Not to the full Stockholm syndrome but you are different.”
“We are both different Abdul,” Rafiq smirked. “Gone is the wrestler that I brought to the wrestling world from Basra, the loud mouthed, arrogant hater of those Americans and that have poisoned this world. I see now that you are the alpha male here in the wrestling world and you do not care who they put in front of you as you will steal the show.”
“Show Stealing?” Abdul laughed. “Familiar sounding but I will own it. The powers that be will be cursing my name when once again I control my own destiny and the winner of the Ace in the Hole brief case. Now where is that lazy waitress? I want a sandwich.”
The limousine bounced over a too-deep rain gutter as it headed towards the restaurant.
It was supposed to be a classy, overwhelmingly beautiful restaurant which seemed to be in some kind of converted red-brick townhouse, facing onto a bustling downtown street, right across from a luxury hotel.
Outside the front of the restaurant a limousine slowly pulled up. There was full valet parking provided but it did not need that. The valet ran up to the limousine and held open the limousine’s back door, and guests exited. It was the wrestler known as Abdul bin Hussain and his manager Rafiq.
Abdul was dressed in traditional Arabic white thaub and kaffiyeh. He looked towards the paparazzi who were taking their photograph because as most of the world was in lockdown Sweden was the only country that had not bowed down to the peer pressure of the rest of the world. The virus had its grips on the planet but Sweden had decided to put two fingers up to the world.
They were walked under a well-lit canopy to the wooden double doors. A maître d’ directed them towards the well-appointed bar; if they so desired but after Abdul gave them a look of utter disdain he motioned them directly to the table they had reserved.
The restaurant was decorated throughout in subdued, warm colours based around a burgundy palette, and the atmosphere was both sophisticated and relaxed. This was a place for the in crowd to dine, to host and to be seen. Candlelit booths were nestled in warm corners, each set comfortably apart from the rest. Vaulted ceilings carry and reflect the light, conveying flattering illumination to every place in the site.
The cuisine had a French Mediterranean focus, and the tantalizing scent of spice and baking bread was in the air. It was fully packed. The bar was surrounded by seated patrons enjoying a drink, the tables are all occupied and bartenders, waiters and hostesses are busily moving back and forth making sure every customer was content.
A lot of them stopped and stared as Abdul and his majorly overweight manager were led across to their table. Rafiq sat down but the seat braced itself from the weight. He then accepted the menu from the maître d’ as Abdul looked about him at the looks they were getting.
Was it because Abdul was of Arabic descent? Maybe; or just because one side of his face had a huge scar upon? Very possible.
He sat down opposite Rafiq and accepted the menu.
“Can I get you gentlemen some drinks before you order?” the maître d’ asked with some dodgy French accent.
“Do we look like infidels that drink alcohol?” Abdul asked. “Just get us some water and we will motion for you when we want to order some food from your establishment.”
“I am sorry sir?” the maître d’ said.
“Water, now leave,” Rafiq said before he turned towards Abdul. “So I have had this deal come in Abdul, it comes from a television network that is trying to put on a pay per view even in this trying times. It would once again get your face upon the screens of the sheep. The show was supposed to be originally coming from somewhere down in Italy but due to the Pandemic they are now having it shot entirely on their very own luxury boat. The XHF Rumble is going to be an interesting event that needs a bit of you in it.”
Abdul smirked as he looked at his manager, “This virus has dried up the work for all us independent contractors. We are lucky that Sweden has not stopped and gone into full lockdown just yet but it will do sometime. I would not show my face from the embarrassment if I was to lose this match whatever it is Rafiq, so it better be a good one. “
“That is correct,” Rafiq said. “Even though you are probably a loose cannon going into this match that is probably one of the reasons that you will do well. The mystery of you will make them wary of what you can do is what will keep them on edge. The will try and take you out because of their bigotry and racist upbringings.”
“So all of these other wrestling promotions probably believe that they have this Rumble match at the pay per view all sewn up do they Rafiq?” Abdul asked. “The more members of their promotions are within this match rules; but the winner’s prize can only be claimed by one person. Sacrifices will need to be made my friend. Do you think half of the rosters egos will let any of their own rosters get their grubby little hands on that win? Do you? I know what their sort is like Rafiq. They forget that I have seen their sort before. Nothing changes.”
Rafiq nodded. “But with the numbers in their favour they must be the favourites going into the Rumble match? All of these rosters working together eliminating all of the other people in the match……until one of them screws the others over for the lure of that win Abdul.”
“True,” Abdul mused. “They cannot see the real story in this whole thing; they cannot see the inevitable that the winner of the championship belt will be the Butcher of Basra. I will do anything that I can do to get one step closer to that. And taking that win will be that one step. I can see that as I know what is going to happen in that ring. Remember I held the UTA Championship and actually never lost it as it was stripped from me due to the racism within the UTA management so now that I’m in this match will XHF be any different? Who knows?”
“Maybe you should use that as your motivation to claim what Akeed couldn’t do?” Rafiq asked. “I can picture their faces when you are the last one standing in the squared circle and shock the world…….”
“Shock the world?” Abdul said interrupting Rafiq. “Shock the world? It is mine to take Rafiq. I will be left standing and then take out their paper champion once and for all. The debt that they owe me for stealing Akeed’s dreams by taking that belt from his grasp is unpayable Rafiq. Once I claim that belt I will not waste it. I might even be that kind of competitor and defend it every chance I get and not like the past ones do. Can you imagine that Rafiq? Abdul bin Hussain pins the champion because the title motivates him more then I run out to the ring and destroy him for that World Championship? Can you picture it?”
A waitress brought a tray of drinks to the table. She smiled awkwardly at Abdul slightly as she put it down.
Abdul nodded and turned back to Rafiq.
“The whole of this Rumble match seems to thrive on chaos,” Abdul stated. “And I will be the one that will bring it to this match. At the end of the Pay per view I tell you now they will not be talking about any other person that was in that match or even the sham of a World Champion but they will be talking about Abdul bin Hussain. Do you understand the significance of this Rafiq?”
“I do Abdul,” Rafiq said. “Probably more than most. I know how you got screwed when you were top of the pile. The professional wrestling fraternity screwed you and threw you a bone by including you in the Rumble match as some kind of gesture of hope for you.”
“Hope?” Abdul asked abruptly. “Every man in this match who has rotted away, wasting their potential will look up to that idea of being the new champion and imagine what that could bring to their career. They will sit like shipwrecked men turning to sea water from uncontrollable thirst as they see me climbing that invisible ladder to get one step closer to what Akeed should have had. There will be true despair in their eyes as I grasp the championship belt at the end of the night.”
“And the women in the match?” Rafiq said.
“Women?” Abdul mocked as the corner of his mouth lifted in a contemptuous smile. “They don’t even make the attempt to cover their modesty whilst mocking the world with their blatant whorish ways. None of them should be in the ring with the likes of me as they are mere women. Not even worthy of my time. How do you want me to act with them in this match? Do you want me to be nice to them?”
“Be nice……..” Rafiq started. “Until you do not need to be nice anymore Abdul. Make a statement to the world. Women are nothing but personal property to someone be it their father’s or husband’s and those that try to break the cycle need to be punished.”
Abdul furrowed his brow as he took this all in.
“We will have to talk over strategies at a later date Rafiq,” Abdul said. “Some of the promotions represented will work together until one of them gets too greedy and stabs the others in the back. What people seem to forget is that I am the best pound for pound wrestler in the entire wrestling industry. I will steal this show Rafiq and then they will believe that I am more than just a wrestler from Iraq. The others are like cockroaches, I will hunt them down. They can be found everywhere, hidden in the cracks, coming out of their locker room. Those infidels must be destroyed.”
“It is hurtful how they look at us just because of the colour of our skin and what our people have perpetrated,” Rafiq said. “It is just blatant racism, pure and simple. They will pay for what they have done to our people. This is more than oil, this is just personal now. What do you need to bring to the ring? Scimitars?”
“I will not be saddled with this terrorist gimmick that they have saddled me with,” Abdul said. “I am more than what they think I am. I am Abdul bin Hussain, and I hate them all for what they are doing to me. Not only will the men feel my wrath but also the women in that ring. They will all be shocked at what I am willing to do to prove a point Rafiq.”
A waitress was waiting off to the side. She looked like she was trying to get their attention without making it to blatantly obvious. Abdul ignored her and took a swig of the water. He gave a look of utter contempt before putting the glass back down. “Even the water in this country is disgusting, full of all sorts of chemicals; These Infidel’s will put anything into their bodies but I digress. With their racial stereotyping I will use it as a weapon against them.”
“What?” Rafiq asked. “What have you got in mind?”
“Rafiq, there will be carnage; and no conisation at all in it. They have awakened a sleeping djinn, and filled me with a terrible resolve,” Abdul smirked as he caressed the scars on his face. “I will let you know shortly as I believe after this virus has been eradicated and we find it has left lasting effects on you not only you Rafiq but the world. You may deny it but I see the change in you my friend. Not to the full Stockholm syndrome but you are different.”
“We are both different Abdul,” Rafiq smirked. “Gone is the wrestler that I brought to the wrestling world from Basra, the loud mouthed, arrogant hater of those Americans and that have poisoned this world. I see now that you are the alpha male here in the wrestling world and you do not care who they put in front of you as you will steal the show.”
“Show Stealing?” Abdul laughed. “Familiar sounding but I will own it. The powers that be will be cursing my name when once again I control my own destiny and the winner of the Ace in the Hole brief case. Now where is that lazy waitress? I want a sandwich.”
