Pleased to meet you, hope you guessed my name. (EOD #1)

[Technical Perfection]

Fear. Fear is one of the most basic of human emotions. Fear can play tricks with your mind, fear can spark the animal hind brain and force you into fleeing a dangerous situation. Fear can make you freeze and prevent you from reacting with your full abilities to a challenge laid before you. Fear can make you fight without control, cornered like a rat scratching and clawing with subconscious fury at the source, taking away any finesse from your abilities. To spread fear is power. It is to make those beneath you submit to your will. Fear is a weapon, a tool. Fear is dangerous.

But what do demons fear?

I have always been a subtle manipulator. I spread doubt in the minds of those who I influence. My arguments are seductive, underpinned by logic and precision. I make people bend to my will, not by force but by gentle persuasion. I am truthful, but those who do not read sufficiently between the lines do not hear the truth, they hear what they want to hear and miss my true intentions. I will turn brother against brother, kin against kin and spark betrayal and perceived injustice because it suits my aims.

What do demons fear? Classically, they are the brutish servants of a dark master, the footsoldiers of the armies beneath. They are the devourers and torturers. Come the final battle, they are the loyal servitors. But they are not the leaders. So what do demons fear? Demons fear the whip hand of the devil himself.

My name is Chris Card. Please allow me to introduce myself. I’m a man of wealth and taste…

~~

Pacing down the spacious hallway of his Toronto town house, Chris Card taps calmly at his Black Diamond phone (tastefully designed in black, none of this over the top gold and diamonds look). He walks into his study and walks up to his whisky shelf, reaching up for a bottle of his hard stuff for a particular purpose. His wife, Diana, steps into the room.

Diana Card: Laphroaig, dear? What’s happened?

Chris Card: Have you been able to get hold of your sister?

Diana Card: No.

Chris Card: Me neither.

Diana shrugs.

Diana Card: Well, she has been on one of her grim flights of fantasy recently. I heard she has been conversing with The Nihilists.

Chris Card: Yes. I saw that on the tape of Fired Up. Well it looks like I’m going to be without a manager for the foreseeable future. Still, nil desperandum. You remove one of my weapons, I have three more stashed away.

Diana Card: You will just have to think a little harder on the issue.

Chris Card: Exactly. Hence the rough stuff. I am going to need to have a good long think about my options and how many of them I am actually going to need in my matches this week.

Diana Card: Well if there’s anything I can do?

Chris Card: Not at present. I need to have a good hard scheme, a nice cigar, a wee dram and maybe kick back and listen to some good music.

Diana Card: Any preference?

Chris Card: I might put on some vinyl. I wonder where that copy of Beggars Banquet is?

~~

And so, dear viewer, this draws me into my current situation. A man who stands a foot taller than me, who doesn’t just tip the scales at a considerable amount heavier than me, he breaks the damn scales when he stands on them. A beast of a man. A demon made flesh. Probably the most physically intimidating person on the entire network (I’m not counting the bear here, him not being a man and all). Everything about the match up says that I, Chris Card, should be quaking with fear, waking up each night in a cold sweat dreading how The Demon Dreadvan can shatter my bones and crush my spirit with every move he makes within the ropes that mark the boundary to my match. So am I chilled to my very bones over the prospect of facing The Demon?

I am not.

Dreadvan has every physical advantage. The man even has agility, if not speed, behind his selection of offense. He is experienced against the hit and run style of the high flying light heavyweights that populates most corners of this network. He knows how to deal with the hit and run style that has so often been used against him. Which is a useful and commendable talent. He can face off with those who rely on power and muscle and use his superhuman size to offer the greatest difficulties to them and his ungodly bounce to throw them around the ring like a superball. Again, great skills for a wrestler in the modern game.

The only hole in his considerable arsenal? He’s a poor grappler. His skills on the mat are utterly woeful, something he is strangely proud of. It is my solemn belief that with even a modicum of mat wrestling he could be the complete package and be utterly unstoppable by any opposing force. But, and he will admit this himself, he doesn’t fare well on the mat. Against ordinary opposition this can be worked around.

I’m Chris Card. I’m far from ordinary.

You know the first thing they teach you when learning Mixed Martial Arts? Find your opponent’s weakness and exploit it. If he’s a striker, take it to the mat. If he’s a grappler, keep it standing. Well, you’re a big, physical wrestler who loathes the technical game. So, in as much as I ever give away the full extent of my plans, you’re going off those feet of yours.

Brazilian Jiu Jitsu’s throws are more about leverage than they are power and so being a much larger athlete that size advantage of yours becomes a huge drawback. For example, if one needs giving, The Ecstasy, for example, is my own modified, personalized version of an O-Soto-Gari. Foot in position to trip, a little pressure backwards and your victim overbalances and falls over. Make that advantage a disadvantage.

And what will happen when you are on the mat? Do you have a good full guard to counter the mount position? How are you on submission defense? What will you do in that moment of doubt and pain when one of my many and varied holds is applied? You call yourself a demon but when your spine is being contorted in ways that a chiropractor would definitely not recommend, I don’t think you have the answers to the questions I will pose.

Your strengths are many, Dreadvan. If I play your game I will lose. Which is why I’m not going to play your game. You are going to play mine. It’s a game of strategy and skill. And it’s a game where the rules are flexible, not properly understood and frequently broken anyway. You will find its nature puzzling. Dreadvan. I, unlike you if your speeches are to be believed, am not interested in hurting people to any extent beyond which wins me a wrestling match. But you will walk away with little understanding of what has happened. I would recommend watching the tape afterwards and attempting to pick up a few tips from my performance.

~~

Fade in on a spot show for a small independent promotion, circa 2015.

Inside the ring, a well built wrestler is in the process of making his come back. The traditional fire, arm shaking, teeth grinding, ever so drawn out return to his vertical base marks him out as the goody guy in the match. This form of come back has been a staple of the American wrestling scene for years, after all. The muscular man gets slowly to a knee to a surprising, especially to him, wide round of boos and jeers. Undeterred he continues firing up, the derision of the crowd washing over him.

His opponent? Chris Card. Sensing that his larger opponent is regaining strength, Card uses the old brainpower and positions himself in front of the referee. When his foe charges for a clothesline, card ducks and the poor, unfortunate referee gets splatted by the defined wrestler. Ant that’s when the chants start.

One guy in the crowd starts. “Cheat for me, Chris Card, cheat for me!” Clap clap. It spreads. “Cheat for me, Chris Card, cheat for me!” Clap clap. The poor unfortunate designated hero has a look on his face of an utter lack of understanding. Card ducks a wildly thrown left hand and delivers a swift kick to the, how did those old school commentators describe it? Southern lower abdominal area. And. The. Crowd. EXPLODES. Cheers rain down on the ring as this designated hero collapses to the mat, clutching his crotch area.

Card checks on the referee. Still down. An evil grin forms across Chris Card’s face as he reaches down into his tights, producing a small atomizer. More cheers. Card, all the while glancing over to check on the referee, allows his victim to sit up and then, with an almost theatrical flair, sprays a goodly amount of the Aerosol Equalizer™ right into the poor meathead’s face. The roof is nearly blown off the small arena with the overwhelming support that Card received from cheating in such an obvious fashion. Card watches for a second as his opponent flails around, clutching at his face. Card grins, grabs an arm and slides over, contorting his victim’s body around into one of his wicked MMA submissions. Wracked with pain from both the hold and the violent burning sensation, Card’s opponent taps out quickly, the referee coming round just in time to notice the submission.

Card stands, having already stashed the atomizer to avoid detection and bows for the crowd.

The crowd chants wildly, “CARD! CARD! CARD! CARD! CARD!”

Fade out..

~~

Dreadvan. I recognise you in all your brutish glory. I know what you are, what you can do within the ropes. If I take you lightly you will destroy me. I know what you are capable of and like all your opponents, it is my job to stop them.

I will bring counters, I will bring control, I will bring a wealth of mat wrestling ability and natural talent. I know your every weakness and I will exploit them mercilessly. And if I have to rely on low cunning to beat you, and I may well be forced to do just that, know that I not only possess that mastery of the dark arts but that I am certainly not above using them to win a wrestling match.

Shout and holler all you want, Dreadvan. Yell to the highest heavens about how we should be cautious of demons. How we should all fear you and your size. But yelling solves little. You may not respect me. Yet I have all the tools necessary to defeat you.

So if you meet me have some courtesy, have some sympathy and some taste. Use all your well-learned politesse.

Or I'll lay your soul to waste.