Post by Dave D-Flipz on Apr 15, 2023 22:25:03 GMT -5
Afternoon, April 1, 2023 – Japan local time
I wasn’t fast enough. I wasn’t strong enough. I let it slip through my fingers.
The scene opens on Death Trap sitting in the waiting room of a hospit- local medical facility. He stares at his lap … where there is no belt present. He buries his head in his hands and runs his fingers through his hair. He slowly shifts in the chair as he tucks a hand under his chin in thought, covering his mouth. He punches his own leg with his free hand.
Some husband I was. I was so focused on stopping myself getting destroyed by that razor board. Knowing my injury history. And I fucking let them outsmart me. I let them get the drop on her. Her partner, who she relies on to be on her 6. Her husband, who she depends on to keep her safe in the ring. Her mentor, who is supposed to teach her how to handle these situations.
He stands up, grabbing his bowler hat off the table next to him, revealing a Sports Illustrated hyping everyone up for baseball season. Old habits die hard I suppose. He stares into the hat. He squeezes it in his hand hard, slightly deforming the reliable fixture. Tears begin to drop into the felt lining. He bottles it all up … and then it explodes. He lets out a guttural roar and throws the hat into the trash bin next to him. He quickly regains his composure as some of the stragglers left in this Japanese hosp- medical facility waiting room stare at the idiot in the crazy tights and a shirt with his own logo on it. He sits back down in the chair and grabs at his belt area, as if to straighten out something that has always been there … but isn’t. He sighs and wipes his eyes on the back of his hand. He pulls out his phone and looks at the background image … Top of the Class, posing in the arena after a successful title defense, snapped by Chaos from the front row, titles held high embracing each other.
The way she landed … a board supported by chairs. She was sliced up so bad. Her neck was all messed up from the landing. The welts from the chair impacts. I should have sacrificed myself to save her. Not like I haven’t been dealt worse. Hell, after Rally Jackson, Paul Soutter, and Armand were done with me in SWAT, a razor board table spot would be like a gentle sparring session with a child… And I’m bulkier, bigger, more resilient. I could have kicked out. She is faster, she could have broken up the pin…
Just then a nurse exits the main infirmary wing and summons over Mr. Carloni-san. He runs over and is led into the room. Mistress is laying in a bed, face down, having several deep gashes stitched closed.
Death Trap: Hey … how are you feeling?
Mistress Discipline: As though they are in great need of a legion of southern seamstresses to help facilitate better sewing technique!
DT laughs. Well she isn’t concussed, and she’s as witty and snappy as ever. That’s good.
Death Trap: What did they say about the gashes?
Mistress Discipline: Thankfully, the razors were not rusty, all sterilized quite well, it is as if the person who EMPLOYED this tactic was worried about suddenly being over encumbered by even more litigation…
Death Trap: Well he certainly doesn’t care about the health and well-being of his employees, guests, or fans.
Mistress Discipline: That much is- GAH- evident.
She flinches from three nurses all coating more of the open cuts in alcohol.
Morning, April 2, 2023 – Japan local time
Death Trap sits in the private first class lounge of the airport. Perks of being on an XHF Legend deal and having this trip booked when he was still a champion. He lowers his Sports Illustrated that he appropriated from the doctor’s office from his face. A small price to pay for them stealing his hat out of the trash before Chaos said she could recover it. He saw it on ebay not an hour later … it’s fine he has more at home, and he’s sure SOMETHING will come up to make up for this devastating loss. He tries to force a smile but it isn’t coming. It looks more like if a robot had learned about human emotion and was trying to look happy. … So like Donzig on a bad day. He realizes he must look awful when he sees the reaction of the camera man. He smooths back his hair and stops trying. With a huff he begins to speak.
Death Trap: It’s the little things that get to you, man. I’ve been in this business over twenty years. Half my life. So I know the very first thing anyone is going to think about me after this. The first time they have to care about DT in a long time for a singles event … and he’s lost a title again. I can hear the buzzing already. I can hear the voices.
Is he for real? Did she just carry him? Is he really a legend? Is he over the hill? Maybe he should call up Caffrey’s old buddy and get the number for that retirement home, Quail Park of Lynwood and send him there.
Death Trap: I sit here on the back of losing the title that, in all honesty, meant the most to me. Because of what it meant for me. Legitimacy. It made my career seem more whole, more complete. It added that missing element to the story of DT. And I can’t say I’ve ever taken losing a title as hard as this one. Which is new for me.
DT looks around the lounge, taking in the silence and the loneliness. Never before has he felt this alone … and been able to remember it.
Death Trap: I can’t say this is a pleasurable experience for me. What happened two nights ago was not the worst loss of my career. It wasn’t the most embarrassing. It wasn’t even all that memorable in terms of what happened to me. I’ve been crushed by cameras to the skull, forced to tap out for the first time in my career while covered in disgusting bugs and spiders … to Anthony fucking Caffrey of all people. I’ve been buried under Mongo’s ego, which is about the weight of 7 men plus a Mongo. I’ve forfeited a title to an injured neck. I’ve lost title matches to men I don’t respect. And they are all just highlights of a long career. A career considered legendary, a career well-remembered as being … good, very good … but not great. A career defined by my rivalries, my friendships, my injuries, and my counting stats.
Not many wrestlers go through 20 years before being forced to concede a match willingly. How many of those did so covered in arthropods…?
Death Trap: But this title reign … added that one thing I was sorely missing. Success on MANY levels … and a legitimate title reign for the ages. This tag title reign did more to define my SINGLES career than any of my previous conquests. I don’t expect people to understand. I can hear the naysayers blaming my success entirely on Mistress. Oh she’s good. Very good. But she’s still new to this. Her talent needed a guiding hand. Her ceiling is higher than mine currently sits. Maybe even higher than mine was in my prime. But without me … would she have the focus and drive to be as successful as you all see her? Would her level of success have capped at shutting up Timeless Alex Turner? Maybe not. But look at what she did for me. It is a fallacy to say she carried me to those titles. We were a true unit. We worked as a team, complimenting each other’s strengths. You all saw how that rumble went down. I was still getting back in the game, she was still brand new, a record in MCCW that said youtube pre-show, not premium live event.
DT begins to pace around the room, stopping only to put the hood on his hoodie down, revealing a distinct lack of hat, and to grab a cup of water from the water cooler.
Death Trap: And we became the talk of the town at the water cooler for a while after. “Hey did you see the old man and hot chick kicking ass and taking names?” “Man they outclassed those wrestling robots.” “Who knew either of them had it in them?” “Too bad for those SWAT henchmen or they might have made the final two.”
DT laughs and sips his water. He begins pacing again, this time stopping to look out the window at the tarmac, busy with bodies as flight crews board planes, technicians fuel up jet engines, and luggage is shuttled into the cargo holds.
Death Trap: She made people see me for what I always saw in myself. A legitimate top tier talent. MCCW brought DT back from the grave. Top of the Class put him on a pedestal. To stand among the elites. Suddenly my short reigns became notches in my belt, not flukes. Suddenly that track record of highs was more important than the terrible lows. Ask anyone in the network era what DT is … and you’ll hear … consistency. Hovering around the top of the card at all times, working day in and day out to improve the show. Putting on the best damn performance you will find on television. The true … main attraction. And the belts? Well they were seen as inevitable once people saw how well the two of us complimented each other. And once we had them?
He takes a moment to bask in the light of the sun rising higher in the sky as early dawn becomes morning proper.
Death Trap: So you can understand why this rumble has suddenly taken on more meaning for me. For once … I am a LEGITIMATE top contender. Had I won in 2006, people would have been shocked. Had I won in 2020 people would have been surprised. If …
He stops himself.
Death Trap: WHEN … I win in 2023.
Mistress Discipline: People will say the title has a formidable holder, one deserving of the accolades. A delightful and predictable result.
Mistress enters the lounge and DT’s face lights up. He embraces her and she quickly pushes him away as he grabs too tight. Chaos and Sarah file into the room after, carrying all the luggage for Mistress.
Dr. Chaos: Hey, why didn’t muscle boy carry all your heavy luggage? You may be hurt but he is already getting back into the ring. In another multi-man match too! Glutton for punishment. I swear you LIKE pain, Death Trap.
Evening, April 1, 2023 – Japan local time
Mistress Discipline is now sitting up on the table, fully dressed, looking a bit like the stay-puft Marshmallow woman with all the gauze and wrapping hiding under her full length, long-sleeved dress. DT is sitting in the chair across from her, watching as she fiddles with the puffy sleeves and collar on her signature outfit. He hangs his head in shame as he musters up the courage to speak.
Death Trap: I- I’m sorry. I should have been better. I should have saved y-
Mistress Discipline: OH NO Mister. Do not even DARE to pull this damsel in distress act. We both knew what we were stepping into, we executed our plan. They were better that night. After eleven months we are allowed to have one bad night. Besides, you got into the ring, you were stopped by their teamwork. There is nothing to be ashamed over.
DT looks up, tears beginning to well up in his eyes.
Death Trap: We … we were unstoppable. I felt invincible. I felt the best I’ve ever felt in that ring. Those title belts … they were exactly what I needed. I felt reinvigorated. I was so confident. Here I was talking about leaving a legacy, puffing my chest about how much I’d accomplished. How much WE had done.
Mistress Discipline: We agreed in sickness and in health. This happens to be the former but it will not impact our self-worth. We are not lesser just because our mass is slightly lesser from blood loss… or title loss.
Death Trap: But I was claiming your success as my own. Looking out for myself, like I did in the old days. Where has being selfish ever gotten me?
Mistress Discipline: I am sure that is a lesson you will need to teach to a few of the men in that rumble. And in that regard I remain glad I will not join you and you were not badly injured. But the rage in the two men that we lost to … that was not all built on the need to win our titles. They NEEDED that win more than we did. You felt it too, correct?
DT stops and ponders for a moment. Brendan and Jack were like men possessed. They couldn’t afford to lose that night.
Death Trap: Fox.
Mistress Discipline: Both the man and the news.
DT stifles a chuckle. He then stops and thinks hard. Bloodied Fox … a man who had gone so far off the deep end, was he even the same man anymore? Surely this would require some attention at a later date, once they were back in the States. DT would need to focus a good bit of energy on that topic and right now all he was worried about was his wife, and their flight home.
Mistress Discipline: Look. You need to get over this. We have lost before, and we will lose many times more in our careers. In life. I am prepared to take a step back for a bit and recover. But as you said, you are in the best condition of your career. You have to ride this success, who knows when you shall get another shot. As my mother noted, we are not getting any younger.
DT nods in sullen agreement. He slowly lifts his head and Mistress wipes the tears from his eyes.
Death Trap: Winning the rumble, something so few have done. I’ve been so close. It would mean the world to me to be able to celebrate with the fans. To see the thirty-odd other people have to acknowledge my existence, with respect, again. Or … for the first time for some of them. We’ve been tagging almost exclusively for so long. I think I need this. No, I KNOW I need this. I need to go out there one more time, even if it’s only to prove to myself that I am everything I’ve bragged about for twenty years. Dylan … Zoran …they’ve tasted that glory before, this would be just another milestone for them. And people like the von Krauss dynasty, Donzig, Steve Awesome … they don’t deserve the adoration of these fans. Hon, I am going to enter that ring … and do what I do best. Survive, endure, pick my spots, and thrive. And like so many times over these eleven months … I will have my hand raised.
Mistress Discipline: We know what this win would mean to you. You enter this rumble as a favorite for the first time ever. To go on and claim this achievement would be a marvelous capstone to a hall of fame curriculum vitae.
DT stands up. He embraces his wife, she pushes him away.
Mistress Discipline: TOO TIGHT!
Her eyes don’t leave his abs, as his haste to stand and embrace her has his shirt caught above them, hanging on her hands. He backs off slowly. He laughs.
Death Trap: There are quite a few names in this rumble that could easily be called the favorites. What makes you so sure I can beat them all?
Beyond the obvious bias of course?
Mistress Discipline: Death Trap, the XHF roster may not always treat you with the respect you have earned over your long and successful career … but they cannot look down on you now. You are etched into the history books. Longest reigning tag team champ. Two time X*Crown champ, 4 time world champ, end of days winner. Your resume speaks for itself.
Death Trap: I suppose Dylan and Zoran may be 3-time X*Crown champs, but they don’t have the extended history of success I do. This will likely be my last rumble. My last opportunity to sit atop the network one final time. To add one more feather into my hat.
Chaos and Sarah enter the room carrying balloons and chocolates for their injured mistress.
Dr. Chaos: NO FEATHERS IN THAT HAT! Are you insane? We wouldn’t be able to be seen with you! You may be a legitimate champion but you have no legitimate fashion sense, honey.
Sarah: Hat?
DT stops and reaches for his head, the hat is gone. He moves to the door to look into the waiting room but the trash has been emptied. Chaos sidles next to Mistress and whispers.
Dr. Chaos: I made sure that the janitor took out the trash. Won’t be seeing THAT eyesore again…
Foreshadowing…
She speaks in a louder voice now.
Dr. Chaos: Just like my inspection of the razor boards made sure they were sterilized and safe-
Mistress Discipline: They STILL cut!
Mistress looks at her incredulously.
Dr. Chaos: -er! Safe-er! You have no complications and we can go home now.
DT shuffles back into the room.
Death Trap: I need some time to process all of this, I was so worried about you, the weight of this last night is just sinking in. Let me go to the airport ahead of you and I’ll make sure we are all checked in for the morning.
Mistress Discipline: Take your time. And remember not to be so hard on yourself. You are still a champion in our books.
Death Trap: Yeah? Well maybe after April 30 I can have a title belt on my waist to prove it.
