Putting Affairs in Order [ZS R 04]

[mosler]

A gym.

Slowly circling a punching bag, The Final Boss sees just how quickly he can stab it with his good hand. He has definitely lost a step.  Barely able to move, Zoran Sainovic’s footwork won’t keep him in the Rumble for long. Worse, this training regime seems to be aggravating Sainovic's many injuries rather than help with the rehabilitation process.

As the tired old man looks like he’s going to die on his feet, his “manager” is lying back on a leather couch in the corner. To block out the overhead lights in the hopes of catching some shuteye, El Rey has a video game magazine opened up over his face. Rey had bought the magazine so he could research old bonus stages he could use to torture Zoran with as fake training courses, but the graphics in those games were boring, and gave him a headache. Now Rey is lounging, and fulfilling his plan of getting revenge through kindness, by generally ignoring their training session and letting Sainovic give himself a career ending injury.

Zoran Sainovic:

Eighty-nine!  It's no use, I just can’t get my speed up.

El Rey (mumbling under his magazine cover):

Fake it till you make it.

Zoran Sainovic:
Ze other arm being tied up is zrowing me off balance.

El Rey (lifting the rag):

Excuses. You think your broken arm is a hindrance? Use it to punch that bag as hard as you can.

Zoran Sainovic:

I’d rather it set properly.

El Rey:

To play catch with your son?  Good luck!  You’ll keep wishing that arm was set properly, even when Fox is ripping it out of its socket, or Cross is wrenching it behind your back.

The Final Boss closes his one good eye, in anticipation of the pain. Deep breath. Unhooking the sling, the old man swings his pulped appendage like a club. #SMACK# It barely moves the bag, but the pain for Zoran is blinding.

El Rey:

Again.

#SMACK#

El Rey (putting the magazine back on like a sleep mask):

Keep going.

#CRACK#

Zoran Sainovic:

Zis is ins... (deep breath) I appreciate your help, Rey. But... from a management point of view, do you have any unique perspectives on what I’m doing? Or any advice zat might help me?

El Rey (not looking up):

One thing I always find helps... get your Dad to buy the promotion, and then you can basically push around whoever you want.

There is a long silence.

No comeback? And here Rey was trying to be helpful. Wait, heavy footsteps. Concerned that he might be attacked, El Rey finally sits up. Eyes adjusting to the light, he finds Zoran packing up his things.

El Rey:

Where are you going? You’ll never beat Fox if you slack off like this.

Zoran Sainovic:

Zank you Rey, I understand zat, and I am greatly enjoying our sessions.  Unfortunately I have to leave now, but will continue your exercises zis evening.

El Rey:

As you should.

Zoran Sainovic:

Right now, it dawns on me... if zings in ze Rumble go poorly. Very poorly. Zere are a few zings I have to take care of.

El Rey:

Whatever. I’ll expect you here bright and early.

Zoran Sainovic (sad smile):

Wouldn’t miss it.

The old man takes his leave, as Rey tries to think up ways to drop bricks on him and claim its not Space Invaders.

---

If a xenophobic joke book from the 1950s is to be treated as an anthropological guide to certain stereotypes, the easiest way to track a Canadian is to leave poutine under the foot of a maple tree. Alternatively, America’s submissive neighbours to the north can also be found congregating around hockey games. Rational viewers might call fake news on these questionable facts – yet at the Wells Fargo Center in Philadelphia, everyone’s favourite Canuck Murder Lizard is seated in the third row taking in the Flyers against the Blue Jackets. Do not let this appearance in a public space humanize the mysterious killing machine – he’s apparently genetically predisposed to watching men on ice hit things with sticks.

“First zey stick you with Adkins, zen a lot of nothing. It is clear zat GUNS haven’t used you efficiently, and I understand why you would wish to leave.”

The Murder Lizard scowls at the man interrupting his game.

Zoran Sainovic:
Still – it is a federation zat allows people to zrive under zeir own merits. It would be nice to see you make another go of it zere... versus Japan.

Jesse Jamester:
What’s it to you.

Approaching Jamester in a public space was a choice, though even with all these witnesses the old man has to be very careful in his wording.

Zoran Sainovic:
No one dislikes GUNS management more zan myself – so I zink we have a common ground, and I’d like to use zat to propose something. 

Jesse Jamester:
Make it quick.

Zoran Sainovic:
You owe ze federation nothing, but zat isn’t ze fault of ze fans – who embraced and championed you. I represent ze interests of ze GUNS nation. Zey are ze one fan base on ze Network zat embrace anyone regardless of federation affiliation – why even if you won ze crown for J-Rok, GUNS fans would still welcome you with open arms. ...Zat kind of open mindedness is important in a federation zat is at ze top of ze Network, and it should be rewarded.

The audience cheer. A goal. Did Jamester miss it? No. Sainovic got lucky.

Jesse Jamester:
When I win the rumble, the crown will be joining me on my tour of violence.

Zoran Sainovic:
I have no problem with you winning ze Rumble, or taking ze crown. Writing has been on ze wall for some time zat you have a bright future. I just want you to keep ze collection in GUNS. You’re angry with Magnus? Rub it in his face.

Jesse Jamester:
I can do that from Japan.

Zoran Sainovic:
Zat is a shame. I like J-RoK. I consider it a second home. But if your aim is to take ze crown away from GUNS? Zen we won’t be able to reach an understanding.

Jesse Jamester:
Oh, we have an understanding.

Zoran Sainovic (smile fades):
I suppose we do. Zen we are at an impasse.

Sighing, the heavily injured former champion winces as he gets out of the seat.

Zoran Sainovic:
Zen I shall leave you to your game. If our paths cross during ze Rumble, I will do whatever it takes to stagger your ambitions.

Jesse Jamester:
...that used to mean a lot more.

Another wince. With his good eye, Sainovic stares down at his broken wing, then turns to leave.

Jesse Jamester:
When you see Dylan, tell him these pillars are going to be shaken down to the core.

Zoran Sainovic:
...Yes, I suppose zey will. Good luck with ze Rumble.

The Flyers score. As the audience celebrate, Zoran limps off into the wild crowd. 

---

The far booth of a small diner can barely contain the ripped physique of Death Trap, who is looking over a menu before a shadow blocks his light.

“Sorry about the tag titles champ...”

The voice is familiar. A present, wrapped in white paper with a red bow, is tossed onto the aged wood tabletop.

Death Trap:
Zoran-

Zoran Sainovic:
May I?

Death Trap:
Actually I’m waiting for-

Zoran Sainovic:
Zis won’t take a minute.

Lifting his sling so that it will clear the table, Sainovic sits opposite Trap. The table creaks as it battles to see which of the two men will be able to use their lungs while seated.

Zoran Sainovic:
I was really looking forward to challenging you and your better half for zose straps. Frankly I was a little surprised Top of ze Class didn’t immediately cash in your points to join ze official end of an era zat was most certainly yours. I understand zat you and Mistress have defeated all comers, carved out a memorable legacy, and you need to move onto new professional projects. Believe me I’m happy for you to get back into singles glory s- my boy. I can see where..... from some perspectives....... it looks like denigrating ze division, not immediately jumping back into ze fray...

Death Trap stares a hole through the old man.

Zoran Sainovic:
Still I suppose zere is always ze Annihilator for Top of ze Class to go out in style.

Death Trap:
Is there a point to all this?

Zoran Sainovic:
Yes. Ze two of us have fought – under less zan ideal circumstances. Bloodbaths. As warriors, as enemies, but never as ze wrestlers I know us to be. Zat is a regret of mine. So I have a proposal to make. I still have a contract with GUNS, zey have a show coming up celebrating May ze Forth. Let’s wrestle. Ze way we really can. Hell if either of us wins ze Rumble, it can be for ze crown. But even if we don’t, we can take out our frustrations out on one another.

Death Trap:
No Sarlacc pit?

Zoran Sainovic (raises hand in playful defence):
Would I do zat to you s- my boy?

Death Trap:
Yes.

Zoran Sainovic (warm smile):
No. I am at a different stage in my career.... where every match could be my last, and if you end up being my retirement- I can zink of worse.

The old man extends his working hand. They shake.

Zoran Sainovic:
Now if Fox doesn’t kill me in ze Rumble, I’ll have something to look forward to-

Both men are clearly being hurt as Sainovic shifts out of the tiny booth, and rises to his feet.

Zoran Sainovic:
Good luck with ze Rumble. I know I don’t speak for Dylan, but you’re ze only person I would like to see join our zree-timer club.

Death Trap (holding out gift):
I don’t want-

Zoran Sainovic:
How do you know, if you don’t open it.

Having enjoyed Zoran’s generosity in the past, and wanting to open it before the old man leaves the blast radius in case it is a bomb, Trap tears open the paper. A hat. The exact same hat that he’s wearing.

Zoran Sainovic:
I always zought it looked good.

With a faint smile, Zoran Sainovic leaves the diner. Death Trap looks at the hat for a moment, before his eyes follow the old man out. What has his love of Star Wars gotten him into?

---

The AWF.

This sleazy office building must have only been rented as a temporary office for the triumphant return of the Ascension Wrestling Federation. When the AWF goes back into full operations, their Bethesda headquarters will be restored. It makes sense to keep a low profile, for maximum shock value with the first episode, so Zoran Sainovic doesn’t think twice about the low rent facility seeming like a front for a Ponzi scheme.

Climbing the stairs behind, Sainovic – despite his swollen pregnancy ankles, Copycat has never looked healthier – or more employable.

Copycat:

This doesn’t look like the AWF...

Zoran Sainovic:

Certainly. Humble origins. Why zis speaks to ze core Ascension values!

The two proceed down the hallway.

Zoran Sainovic:

Now when ze interview begins...

Copycat:

I should not make every answer about my bundle of joy?

Zoran Sainovic:

Correct.

Copycat:

But they’ll know I’m pregnant from looking at me.

Zoran Sainovic:

Let zem.  Zat isn’t a crime. Just focus on ze answers, and know zat zey would be lucky to have you.

They arrive at a door with a piece of paper with AWF printed on it.

Knocking.

Knocking again.

After a third attempt, Sainovic opens the office door labeled “AWF” – to find it empty, except for an office manager doing an inspection.

Zoran Sainovic:

Is zis ze AWF?

Office Manager:

Nah, they moved out last week. I used to be a big fan of Jackson Steele, thought he might make an appearance, so I was pretty disappointed when they left.

Zoran Sainovic:

Did ze company give you a forwarding address?

Office Manager:

What? Nah – it was a practical joke.

A nervous twitch appears in the corner of Sainovic’s eye. The one not covered by a patch.

Zoran Sainovic:

........Zat can’t be-

Office Manager:

Yeah, it was for April Fools. Real cruel trick to play on their fans. I was very excited.

Copycat:

I have an interview.

Zoran Sainovic:

Zat’s right-

Office Manager:

Look around if you'd like, I'm locking up in a few minutes.  ....Look, not sure who you spoke too, but this place had no intention of ever coming back.

The Final Boss looks down at the ground in pain.

Zoran Sainovic (rubbing his temple):

‘Cat, I’m sorry about zis...

Copycat:

Why? I’ve had so much fun hanging out with you, friend!

Zoran Sainovic:

It’s just. (cringe) I know you don’t understand zis, but I want to help you. Only I’m not much longer for zis sport, and when I go-

Copycat:

I can come with you.

Zoran Sainovic:

Ze wrestling world is ze one place where a creature like you can really thrive. Zis is ze best place for you... and your child.

Copycat (completely oblivious):

It sure is. (throwing some punches at the air) BAM! POW!

What a horrible situation.

The Final Boss closes his eye for a moment. The office manager vaguely remembers Copycat standing near Steele once, so let’s them continue their conversation while looking for damage.

Copycat:

I’m sure sorry you wasted all that time training me.

Deep sigh.

Zoran Sainovic:

Zere is nothing for it. We need to set you up with a different promotion.

Copycat:

There are more feds than just the AWF? Hahaha – who is the April fool now?

Zoran Sainovic:

No legacy factor, which hurts our chances. Still... yes… we can do zis. We just need to make sure you turn a lot of heads at ze Rumble. Make sure zere are enough eyes on you zat some federation wants to sign you to contract.

Copycat:

So we get to hang out more?

Zoran Sainovic:

I’m going to train you like your life depends on it. (flinch)  ...Because it does.

The old man turns his one good eye to the crudely taped piece of paper with AWF printed on it.  April Fools.  What a fool.  Why is it that practical jokes on the first of April, always dictate his elimination at the end of it?  Is he that gullible?  Is it so hard to trust basic Network information?  Memories of defending Mongo at the start of the 2020 Rumble season from a hostile takeover come rushing back.  A passionate defence, for yet another rib.  That was embarrassing.  But at least Zoran was the only person it hurt.  This time his acceptance of rumours will seriously hurt others.

The depression is almost crippling.

As Copycat continues to wonder when his interview will happen, Zoran Sainovic stares up at a water stain on the ceiling.  This Rumble is going to be painful.  Ghosts by Japan plays as a fade leaves Sainovic to his existential crisis.