Post by Old Line Jeff on May 28, 2023 23:18:41 GMT -5
“Holy shit bro, things are whack in W:UK.”
Jeffrey Daniels sat up.
“What’s going on in W:UK?”
Lee Scott Rothlesberger was holding his phone, typing with both thumbs. “Well, there was a pay per view. And then The Bastards quit, so the tag titles are vacant. Then someone murdered Mr. Blood. And now they’re trying to fill a tag tournament and they’ve offered to fly us out there to be in it.”
He was still tired. Jeffrey rubbed his eyes, trying to clear them. “If Mr. Blood’s dead, who’re you talking to?”
“Sir Arthur Torchwood.”
“He’s in charge with Blood gone?”
“Hold onto that thought.” Lee said, his thumbs still rapidly tapping his phone.
“I’m surprised Torchwood deigned to talk to you. Old crusty technical guys hate young flippity guys, and we are both of the young and the flippity.”
“Perhaps someday I shall get a chance to land the Canis Majoris press and shock and awe the W:UK fans. But not any time soon. Torchwood wants to fly us out there early, because he wants you in a singles match in W:UK. Says he can put us in touch with some smaller promoters in the area and get us extra work, to make sure it’s worth our while going to the UK for a couple months. He also wants us to do a couple classes on Lancashire style grappling?”
“I couldn’t pick up llave, what makes him think we can do Lancashire?”
Llave is the Mexican submission style, for the benefit of any readers who aren’t absolute wrestling geeks. So probably everyone who isn’t me.
“I’unno man, Lancashire looks easier than llave to me. Comparatively boring, though. Now that French Catch stuff, like, now that all these more obscure wrestling styles are being brought out of cobwebs, maybe French Catch is next?”
“That’d be pretty sweet. Anyway, who’s my singles match against?”
“He says he’d rather tell you once you get to the UK. Also he’s not in charge of anything, he’s just stepping up a little bit while Blood’s gone.”
“So, unknown singles opponent… probably wants to get me killed by some Scott Steel clone or someone else on the Hoss Spectrum. Ah well, paychecks rule, let’s do it.”
“Diggity.”
A few days later.
Jeffrey Daniels on camera.
“I got asked to do a match. Apparently my anti-XHF diatribe from my last promo wasn’t enough to get the New Untouchables disinvited from W:UK.”
“I assumed it was going to be against a hoss. You don’t usually bring a part timer in for a singles match because they might beat your fulltimer, so the assumption is it’s a match they don’t expect you to win.”
“Instead it’s against a woman.”
“That’s cool. I mean, I grew up watching Heidi Christenson and Gemma Lockhart and… well, they were two of the greatest, but plenty of other good female wrestlers came through the old CAL and WfWA systems.”
“And she’s intersex.”
“So I’m partly here because I’m going to be respectful - cos it has no bearing on whether she deserves the chance, the answer is always ‘yes’ in pro wrestling which is cool - and partly because dear God imagine the trouble booking her against one of the Glucks could get W:UK into.”
“Aaand she’s also interspecies and has a cat tail.”
Daniels looks off camera.
“Really?”
Whoever Daniels is speaking to must respond with a gesture.
“Huh.”
“Well.”
“Also she’s like 45. So like the same age as all my retired heroes, but she’s just getting her start.”
“And she’s also literally royalty. So, wealthy. And the best training money could buy, presumably. And, according to my notes, with something to prove because between being a minor celebrity, royalty, female, and old, she’s had trouble finding promoters who’d put her in the ring.”
World weary sigh.
“Which means I might soon become international tabloid fodder for losing to an old Black intersex female duchess in her debut match.”
Pause. He looks off camera.
“Is she allowed to use the cat tail in matches? Like, has this ever come up in a rulebook in the history of ever?”
More pause.
“Not even in the PTC? They had a prehistoric caveman and a werewolf and an evil Easter Bunny and a whole gaggle of bird aliens in the PTC.”
And as often happens when Jeffrey Daniels is put in front of a camera, things end with an awkward fade.
Jeffrey Daniels sat up.
“What’s going on in W:UK?”
Lee Scott Rothlesberger was holding his phone, typing with both thumbs. “Well, there was a pay per view. And then The Bastards quit, so the tag titles are vacant. Then someone murdered Mr. Blood. And now they’re trying to fill a tag tournament and they’ve offered to fly us out there to be in it.”
He was still tired. Jeffrey rubbed his eyes, trying to clear them. “If Mr. Blood’s dead, who’re you talking to?”
“Sir Arthur Torchwood.”
“He’s in charge with Blood gone?”
“Hold onto that thought.” Lee said, his thumbs still rapidly tapping his phone.
“I’m surprised Torchwood deigned to talk to you. Old crusty technical guys hate young flippity guys, and we are both of the young and the flippity.”
“Perhaps someday I shall get a chance to land the Canis Majoris press and shock and awe the W:UK fans. But not any time soon. Torchwood wants to fly us out there early, because he wants you in a singles match in W:UK. Says he can put us in touch with some smaller promoters in the area and get us extra work, to make sure it’s worth our while going to the UK for a couple months. He also wants us to do a couple classes on Lancashire style grappling?”
“I couldn’t pick up llave, what makes him think we can do Lancashire?”
Llave is the Mexican submission style, for the benefit of any readers who aren’t absolute wrestling geeks. So probably everyone who isn’t me.
“I’unno man, Lancashire looks easier than llave to me. Comparatively boring, though. Now that French Catch stuff, like, now that all these more obscure wrestling styles are being brought out of cobwebs, maybe French Catch is next?”
“That’d be pretty sweet. Anyway, who’s my singles match against?”
“He says he’d rather tell you once you get to the UK. Also he’s not in charge of anything, he’s just stepping up a little bit while Blood’s gone.”
“So, unknown singles opponent… probably wants to get me killed by some Scott Steel clone or someone else on the Hoss Spectrum. Ah well, paychecks rule, let’s do it.”
“Diggity.”
A few days later.
Jeffrey Daniels on camera.
“I got asked to do a match. Apparently my anti-XHF diatribe from my last promo wasn’t enough to get the New Untouchables disinvited from W:UK.”
“I assumed it was going to be against a hoss. You don’t usually bring a part timer in for a singles match because they might beat your fulltimer, so the assumption is it’s a match they don’t expect you to win.”
“Instead it’s against a woman.”
“That’s cool. I mean, I grew up watching Heidi Christenson and Gemma Lockhart and… well, they were two of the greatest, but plenty of other good female wrestlers came through the old CAL and WfWA systems.”
“And she’s intersex.”
“So I’m partly here because I’m going to be respectful - cos it has no bearing on whether she deserves the chance, the answer is always ‘yes’ in pro wrestling which is cool - and partly because dear God imagine the trouble booking her against one of the Glucks could get W:UK into.”
“Aaand she’s also interspecies and has a cat tail.”
Daniels looks off camera.
“Really?”
Whoever Daniels is speaking to must respond with a gesture.
“Huh.”
“Well.”
“Also she’s like 45. So like the same age as all my retired heroes, but she’s just getting her start.”
“And she’s also literally royalty. So, wealthy. And the best training money could buy, presumably. And, according to my notes, with something to prove because between being a minor celebrity, royalty, female, and old, she’s had trouble finding promoters who’d put her in the ring.”
World weary sigh.
“Which means I might soon become international tabloid fodder for losing to an old Black intersex female duchess in her debut match.”
Pause. He looks off camera.
“Is she allowed to use the cat tail in matches? Like, has this ever come up in a rulebook in the history of ever?”
More pause.
“Not even in the PTC? They had a prehistoric caveman and a werewolf and an evil Easter Bunny and a whole gaggle of bird aliens in the PTC.”
And as often happens when Jeffrey Daniels is put in front of a camera, things end with an awkward fade.