Post by fowler on Dec 22, 2022 5:53:21 GMT -5
It’s a cold and frosty morning, probably around 10:00am on a quiet residential street in an undisclosed location. It’s clearly England though, you can tell by the architecture of the rows of brick-built houses which tightly hug the road. They cover most of the space and horizon we can see, except for a patch of green that they surround. A small field, known as a recreation ground or “Rec” in most of the UK. In the middle of this space two boys are seen kicking a football around, wrapped up tightly in puffer jackets, hat and scarfs.
A cold looking Billy Fowler sits in a car parked opposite the rec ground. He too he wrapped up warm and has the heater gently blowing and the radio turned down low. The faint sound of Christmas hits of years gone by creeping out of the speakers.
He watches the boys contently. Smiling as one of them, taller than the other, chips the ball high into the air over the other one’s head.
The scene is then broken as a horrific splutter of coughing comes from the seat behind him. Fowler looks in the rear-view mirror to see Frank Windsor on the back seat having a coughing fit with Rob Riot sat next to him, pulling his neon pink scarf up to shield his face.
Riot: “Cover your mouth man!!”
Fowler: “For goodness’ sake Frank, didn’t Covid teach you anything?”
Frank slowly recovers himself and wipes some spittle from his mouth. He looks at Riot and then at Fowler.
Windsor: “Alright calm down, it’s just a cold.”
Riot: “I’m not worried about the common cold Frank, it’s all the other viruses and diseases you’ve probably got floating around your bloodstream. Hepatitis has ruined many a man’s career.”
Frank scowled at Riot and was about to retort before Fowler cut him off.
Fowler: “Can you two stop bickering for once, please.”
The tag champions paused and looked at the back of their friend’s head. The man mountain looked lost in thought as he stared off across the field.
Riot: “What are we doing here Billy?”
Fowler: “I just wanted to see him a little while.”
Riot paused for a moment before rephrasing the question.
Riot: “I know that I mean what are we doing here.”
Fowler smiled once again as the boys fought each other for control of the ball, using all the skill that they had to try and out play the other.
Fowler: “Do you ever wish you could be like those two? I do, more days than I probably should.
The simplicity of childhood. Going to the local park or nearest patch of grass to kick a ball around for hours without a care in the world. Popping to the shops with a one-pound coin to buy a can of fizzy pop and a packet of sweets, whilst trying to look cool for the group of girls hanging around outside listening to The Spice Girls.”
Riot is now looking out of the window and smiling sweetly as he recalls his own childhood. Until Frank Windsor chimes in, with a wistful tone that doesn’t match the content of his words.
Windsor: “Slowly finger banging the girl from class 9B with the big knockers, whilst trying not to let the nerves kill your hardon…”
Riot and Fowler immediately turn and stare with furrowed brows at their partner. Frank smiles and shrugs before looking out of the window to detract from the situation.
Fowler: “Life goes quick boys, even quicker these days. Who knows how long we have left on the block. We’ve done more in our time so far than most people even dare dream about.
We have affirmed ourselves as the most dominant force in the business today, maybe even ever.
But somehow it still doesn’t feel enough.
Do you know what the biggest thing I miss about youth is? It’s dreaming. When we were young, we used to dream a lot, about being anything we wanted to be. For years I dreamt about this moment.
Being the world champion, with two there to enjoy the ride with me. Achieving that dream meant everything to me. But now I find myself wanting more.”
A smile creeps across Riot’s face. This man knows all too well the feeling that Fowler is describing, having been a world champion more times than anyone you care to mention.
Riot: “You’ve got the bug Fowler. That inconsolable itch that a world title gives you. The craving for more.”
Fowler: “Yes but it’s more than that. I want to prove to the world that I am who I always knew I could be. I want to wipe the words from every doubter’s mouth. There is a legacy at stake here boys, one that says that Billy Fowler is the greatest Wrestle: UK World Champion, period.
You talked about our plans for 2023 Rob, about how we aim to leave a path of destruction through the wrestling world. Well, that plan starts right at home, and it starts with Wesley Crane.
I admire his guts. He stepped into our world and slapped his nut sack right on the table in front of us! But those big old balls have made him deluded and overconfident.
He's making the same mistake that they all make, he’s doubted my ability. He thinks I’m someone he can sleep on, but he’s wrong, you boys know that.
You mistook my actions outside of the ring to indicate a weakness inside of it, Wesley, and for that mistake you will be sorely punished. It’s not your time, because the hands of the clock are still firmly fixed on The Bastard’s hour, and they aren’t set to move anytime soon.”
Windsor: “He’s coming over.”
The three men look out of the window to see the taller boy jogging towards the car, with his football in hand. Fowler lowers the drivers window and smiles at him.
Boy: “Hey dad, I’m done now. Time to go.”
A cold looking Billy Fowler sits in a car parked opposite the rec ground. He too he wrapped up warm and has the heater gently blowing and the radio turned down low. The faint sound of Christmas hits of years gone by creeping out of the speakers.
He watches the boys contently. Smiling as one of them, taller than the other, chips the ball high into the air over the other one’s head.
The scene is then broken as a horrific splutter of coughing comes from the seat behind him. Fowler looks in the rear-view mirror to see Frank Windsor on the back seat having a coughing fit with Rob Riot sat next to him, pulling his neon pink scarf up to shield his face.
Riot: “Cover your mouth man!!”
Fowler: “For goodness’ sake Frank, didn’t Covid teach you anything?”
Frank slowly recovers himself and wipes some spittle from his mouth. He looks at Riot and then at Fowler.
Windsor: “Alright calm down, it’s just a cold.”
Riot: “I’m not worried about the common cold Frank, it’s all the other viruses and diseases you’ve probably got floating around your bloodstream. Hepatitis has ruined many a man’s career.”
Frank scowled at Riot and was about to retort before Fowler cut him off.
Fowler: “Can you two stop bickering for once, please.”
The tag champions paused and looked at the back of their friend’s head. The man mountain looked lost in thought as he stared off across the field.
Riot: “What are we doing here Billy?”
Fowler: “I just wanted to see him a little while.”
Riot paused for a moment before rephrasing the question.
Riot: “I know that I mean what are we doing here.”
Fowler smiled once again as the boys fought each other for control of the ball, using all the skill that they had to try and out play the other.
Fowler: “Do you ever wish you could be like those two? I do, more days than I probably should.
The simplicity of childhood. Going to the local park or nearest patch of grass to kick a ball around for hours without a care in the world. Popping to the shops with a one-pound coin to buy a can of fizzy pop and a packet of sweets, whilst trying to look cool for the group of girls hanging around outside listening to The Spice Girls.”
Riot is now looking out of the window and smiling sweetly as he recalls his own childhood. Until Frank Windsor chimes in, with a wistful tone that doesn’t match the content of his words.
Windsor: “Slowly finger banging the girl from class 9B with the big knockers, whilst trying not to let the nerves kill your hardon…”
Riot and Fowler immediately turn and stare with furrowed brows at their partner. Frank smiles and shrugs before looking out of the window to detract from the situation.
Fowler: “Life goes quick boys, even quicker these days. Who knows how long we have left on the block. We’ve done more in our time so far than most people even dare dream about.
We have affirmed ourselves as the most dominant force in the business today, maybe even ever.
But somehow it still doesn’t feel enough.
Do you know what the biggest thing I miss about youth is? It’s dreaming. When we were young, we used to dream a lot, about being anything we wanted to be. For years I dreamt about this moment.
Being the world champion, with two there to enjoy the ride with me. Achieving that dream meant everything to me. But now I find myself wanting more.”
A smile creeps across Riot’s face. This man knows all too well the feeling that Fowler is describing, having been a world champion more times than anyone you care to mention.
Riot: “You’ve got the bug Fowler. That inconsolable itch that a world title gives you. The craving for more.”
Fowler: “Yes but it’s more than that. I want to prove to the world that I am who I always knew I could be. I want to wipe the words from every doubter’s mouth. There is a legacy at stake here boys, one that says that Billy Fowler is the greatest Wrestle: UK World Champion, period.
You talked about our plans for 2023 Rob, about how we aim to leave a path of destruction through the wrestling world. Well, that plan starts right at home, and it starts with Wesley Crane.
I admire his guts. He stepped into our world and slapped his nut sack right on the table in front of us! But those big old balls have made him deluded and overconfident.
He's making the same mistake that they all make, he’s doubted my ability. He thinks I’m someone he can sleep on, but he’s wrong, you boys know that.
You mistook my actions outside of the ring to indicate a weakness inside of it, Wesley, and for that mistake you will be sorely punished. It’s not your time, because the hands of the clock are still firmly fixed on The Bastard’s hour, and they aren’t set to move anytime soon.”
Windsor: “He’s coming over.”
The three men look out of the window to see the taller boy jogging towards the car, with his football in hand. Fowler lowers the drivers window and smiles at him.
Boy: “Hey dad, I’m done now. Time to go.”
