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It's Time To Play The Game!
Chapter 15

(Yo folks, time for your bi-daily dose of self-deprecation! Just kidding. Here's Monday's. I will, more than likely be updating my columns on MWF at the extremes, either late at night or early in the morning. Such is my work schedule. But they shall arrive, somehow. As far as (mainstream) wrestling goes, this column is pretty much my only connection to it. I stopped watching (WWE) for a while because it was doing its goddamndest to kill my interest and when Christian lost the title my sporadic attention was shut off. I checked out Over The Limit last night to see if there was anything to draw me back in and lo and behold, there was not. So back to the indies, Mexico and Japan for me until such a time as WWE can actually hire good writers or not just settle and be lazy. I'll catch the decent matches on Youtube or just watch Superstars. Let it be known that no such dislike of mainstream wrestling will keep these columns from coming out so don't worry your pretty little heads none. Also, I know one of my readers couldn't see the embed last week and I threw another in this week but I tried it out on 3 computers and saw it on all, so if he can't see it then God just doesn't want him to. Rough. He'll probably be the lucky one this week if he can't, considering what I put up. Enjoy!)

OniBarubary: Llllllleeet’s get ready to Rummmmmmblllllll-

Cold: Quit that shit. This ain’t 90s WCW.

Oni: Bah. Anyways, you’re to come out first so get to that curtain. Prepare for a lot of rolls this match too, or at least a decent smattering of them, cause I really shoulda been throwing dice like a junky at the craps table with his loan shark behind him. Half od your conversation should’ve been decided by backstage rolls combined with others, but oh fucking well. Too late now.

MissouriDragon: Just tell me when and what to roll.

Oni: I will. They’re playing your music, better get out there.

Missou: I don’t need to roll to see if I can put one foot in front of the other, do I?

Oni: Maybe when one of you gets brain damage from some tapewatching puro nut doing his best Tanahashi impression.

Hustle: Gimme a mental agility roll to see if he can remember his name.

Uncle Joe: I’ll need you to roll technique to see if you’ve got enough faculty left to not shit yourself.

Missou: With the pleasant thoughts of future incontinence and orderlies washing my back for me I step out to my music.

Oni: As you split the curtains and sally forth like some grizzled football rolled half-heartedly down a wheelchair ramp, the crowd explodes in comfortable knowledge of you without any particular brand of excitement. You share their distinct un-excitement when you see that Antonio’s optimistic assumption on attendance falls a little short of the mark. And by a little short, I mean he threw a dart at the board and hit the guy sitting next to it in the eye.

Missou: Fantastic. Job is a job though, may as well get this over with and just hop into the ring. Not gonna slap any hands as I go by.

Oni: For the best, most cradle beers or belong to toddlers. From your slightly higher vantage point, you can see a crowd about 40 strong. You’ve worked less, but you’ve regularly worked more. Some guys at the bar perk up and take interest since you look like you got up from drinking next to them.

Missou: Almost wish I had.

Hustle: Friends shouldn’t let friends wrestle drunk.

Cold: Brought to you by Friends of ECW.

Hustle: Out of sheer curiosity, what are Sandman’s stats?

Oni: I dunno, he’s got like 8 in everything except Toughness and Charisma which’re up there.

Hustle: Charisma? Really?

Oni: You explain it to me then. Maybe he got someone else to pinch hit the charisma checks when the time came. Back to Breaks-

Joe: Got the shakes.

Oni: That didn’t even sound like Back in Black. The crowd definitely knows you, or at least parts of it, they just don’t seem particularly energetic in general. Like they’re covered in jam. No t-shirt sales tonight.

Missou: Good thing I didn’t bring any then. Besides, what kind of t-shirt would I sell? Some white, sweat-drenched beater?

Joe: You could make a lot more online, selling them to grody dudes sniffing ‘em to get erections in their basements.

Missou: Don’t think there’s much cross-over there in Breaks’ fanbase.

Joe: They’re not looking at your name, just that some big dude sweated and stained them, crusting them with yellow pools.

Hustle: Ew.

Joe: Oh whatever dude, female wrestlers do the same fucking thing, selling their juicy trunks to skeezballs who have to sit with their bag of SHIMMER DVDs over their crotch when they watch a women’s match.

Hustle: I certainly hope you’re not implying that SHIMMER gets by due to the attentions of perverts and sexual deviants.

Cold: Ice Ribbon has a TV deal in Japan.

Hustle: Well…huh.

Joe: Don’t underestimate the monetary contributions of perverts to our society.

Oni: Moving on, you should just be hoping they pop for anything tonight so you remember why you’re doing this instead of putting together houses for the state.

Missou: Let’s hope this kid has decent stats or this may shit out on us early.

Oni: You’ll find out in a minute, as your music dies down and leaves behind it a scattered and quickly dead applause and a whoo or two from the men at the bar with bottles raised. At least you might get some free drinks after this.

Missou: I’d rather just have the two bucks.

Oni: Seconds after, as if afraid the dead crowd may give the boys in back cold feet, Collins’ music kicks up. While most people were more interested in trying to remember where they heard your music before, determining which jug band by which cousin actually played that song, at least 4 separate 11 year olds in Jeff Hardy shirts with 50% sporting matching armbands squeal like…well, Jeff Hardy fans when his music hits or he’s porking one of them.

Hustle: That is a wonderful and completely non-off-putting sign.

Cold: Fucking eleven year olds?

Joe: I knew you liked Ice Ribbon.

Oni: Whoops. Probably could’ve phrased that better. Oh well. Collins has accrued at least a small fanbase of pre-pubed girls but the rest of the crowd reacts worse; the jam was mixed with Vaseline and sleeping pills it seems. Then again, anyone over 15 would probably react like that to Taking Back Sunday.

Hustle: That is real awful. Legit.

Oni: I was trying to think of what would get little girls to hit puberty and-

Cold: Your hole just keeps getting deeper, my friend.

Joe: Yeah, shut up before you out me, backstabber.

Oni: -aaaaaaaaaaand would be generally loathed by the rest of the crowd. I was going for My Chemical Romance before I remembered I only know one song by them and sorta liked it.

Hustle: And how’d you find this song?

Oni: I just searched Taking Back Sunday and picked one.

Hustle: Like you coulda done with My Chemical Romance.

Oni: Well…um…I suppose…

Hustle: Mmhmm.

Oni: *cough* Er…yes. Well, he comes through the curtain just like he was with Breaks backstage.

Missou: Oh I’m sorry, are we actually playing again?

Oni: Blow me. Collins is bouncing around as if the empty chairs were hordes of enthralled and spastic fans, as if the current crowd of fans were reacting in even the slightest positive way or throwing him kisses and barely legal teens. He tries to slap a few hands, fails in that regard, and eventually hops into the ring without skipping a beat. Stands on the second rope and must pretend their throwing streamers with how he’s pumping his fists at them and drops down to maybe, some day, get this match underway.

Missou: Gonna enjoy this.

Oni: I bet. He’s wearing some Jack Evans trunks which, in all likelihood, he probably bought from Evans. Long and almost pants but baggy as fuck.

Missou: Hope I don’t get tangled in ‘em.

Oni: Whatever, you’re a big dude, you could just rip them off.

Hustle: That’d turn it into a completely different kind of match.

Oni: Collins listens to the ref as well as he probably listened to his guidance counselor at school since he’s a wrestler, and extends a hand to shake.

Missou: Code of Honor be damned. Let’s give them some heat off the bat. I look at his hand and smirk a bit, look around and laugh then slap it away and walk back to my side of the ropes.

Joe: Ice burn!

Hustle: Coooooold-blooded.

Cold: Huh?

Hustle: Not you.

Cold: Oh.

Oni: If you turn around to face him quick enough, you could see his face drop to disappointment and then just as quick flash to anger. What a way to disrespect him. The kid may be a rookie and mugging a lot, but he has expressive facials, that’s for sure.

Joe: Just like me.

Cold: Wrong facial.

Oni: Gimme a roll for Charisma.

Missou rolls one set of dice, Oni the other

Missou: Let’s see now, got a 14 and with my Charisma that’s a 25.

Oni: Well, that certainly woke the crowd up a little. The guys at the bar are whistling and chuckle to themselves because they probably want to see you whip the kids ass. The girls boo loudly since you just dissed their man. The parents are also a tad more interested since there seems to be a bit more flesh to this than you two just having a match. Within a couple seconds you set the match up perfectly for them; Collins, the young guy, makes a show of respect to the old hand who doesn’t give it back and gets pissed. Scene. Curtain. Even a blind cuttlefish could see it.

Hustle: Or a WWE writer.

Oni: Hey, let’s be realistic.

Missou: I’ll keep my back to the kid, leaning against the ropes. Keep that disrespect flowing.

Oni: Bell rings. Let’s get it on!

Missou: I turn around-

Oni: Right into Collins, the flying squirrel! Make a toughness roll!

Missou: Overeager son of a bitch.

Missou rolls the die, Oni does likewise

Cold: Makes sense. He aims to take it to ya since you threw his respect back in his face. You stirred up a nest of bees.

Oni: Oh, thanks for reminding me.

Oni rolls a die yet again, and marks it down

Hustle: Gonna tell us what that was?

Oni: A-nope.

Missou: More like a bee.

Oni: Well, he certainly stings. The kid may weigh as much as Ezekiel Jackson’s bicep but he threw his whole weight into forearming you. It doesn’t hurt very much, but its stiff for sure. And you’re also sure that was what he was going for.

Missou: He didn’t take it to heart, did he?

Oni shrugs

Oni: I cannot tell a lie. So I just won’t tell you. He’s laying into you with forearms now, though none as strong as that first. It ain’t from lack of trying though. Mysterio could bench-press this kid though, so even if he was particularly stiff it’s not like you could ever tell.

Missou: I’ll teach him how to throw one of these. I hit him back, stiff him against the jaw.

Joe: Let the cutoffs begin!

Oni: Le roll said strength. Also, up yourself to a 14.

Missou: Sure, but why?

Missou lets the die cascade from his hand yet again

Missou: 9, plus my newfangled 14 boosts it to 23.

Oni: I was just eyeing stats and yours were a tad low for what you were going for. And instead of retconning it like Hustle’s missing Technique stat and not making mention of it-

Joe: Fail.

Hustle: Wait, what?

Oni: - I decided to do it now so people wouldn’t call me on it later or whatever.

Hustle: No, what was that about my missing stat?

Oni: Let’s see how tough this kid is.

One roll later…

Oni: Oof. Not very.

Cold: How bad?

Oni: Well, have you ever seen a burlap sack full of mashed potatoes fall over?

Cold: Ouch.

Hustle: No. Who’s ever seen that?

Joe: Yes.

Hustle: No you haven’t.

Joe: Oh. Right. No.

Missou: I get the general impression. That hard?

Oni: Relatively. I was going to make you roll Technique too, but you said you weren’t pulling your punch so…he rolled a 3 for Toughness and he’s sitting pretty under 10 for that stat so…

Missou: I follow. Do I notice that he’s not selling and it’s legit?

Oni: Oh, I’d say it’s fairly obvious.

Hustle: Even to a WWE writer?

Oni: Let’s be realistic. The crowd let out a collective “OH!” as he went down, one girl cried DAMN! before her mother pulled her ear. Kid is down, what do you do?

Missou: Well, just give him a moment to recollect himself since he doesn’t look dead. I’ll motion to him and sort of laugh and yell “That your best?” and look at the crowd for reaction.

Oni: Charisma yo.

The die comes up with a 6 on its face

Oni: The crowd gives you a few boos here and there, but most are awake now thanks to that clubbering blow and realize that maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t supposed to be eating canvas this long. Wasn’t a terrible roll, but you’re trying to cover a whale with a pool cover.

Missou: I guess I’ll pick him up. Can I?

Oni: He’s groggy but it’s doable. If you let go, he’ll probably shoot straight back down though.

Hustle: Throw him in the corner and just lob softball punches at him. It’ll give him time to recover.

Joe: Or you could cover him.

Missou: There ain’t an opening for devil on the shoulder yet, bucko. I’ll do as Hustle said, toss him into the corner.

Oni: Literally toss him?

Missou: Yep. Bodily.

Oni: Strength and Technique. Two as one, make it so!

Missou: You’re such a space case.

One comes up 14 and t’other 12

Oni: Good enough. He flails haphazardly, and crashes into the turnbuckle. He’s gained enough sense to drape his arms across the ropes so he doesn’t find himself breathing mat again.

Missou: Need a roll for the punches?

Oni: Since you’re pulling them, make it technique to see if you can convince the crowd it’s all part of the show and not Randy Orton Restlock time.

Missou: 10. 25 for Technique.

Oni: If the crowd knows your punches aren’t the real mccoy, they’re faking it well. Bar dudes are yipping up a storm watching you moidalize this poor kid.

Hustle: Yipping? Do people do that anymore? Are they prospectors in here after a hard die of panning for gold?

Oni: Okay, they’re…hooting and hollering.

Hustle: Better.

Missou: He have enough facility to run?

Oni: He can put two and two together but it may take him a sheet of scratch paper.

Missou: Here’s to hoping. I’ll swing him into the opposite turnbuckle and clothesline him down so he can rest a bit more and collect his wits.

Oni: With how hard you knocked him, some of those wits might be mixed with the popcorn greasy little kids are shoving into their gaping troughs or added as topping on the hot dogs.

Missou: Hot dogs? Really?

Cold: Sold pizza and candy at the RoH shows I been.

Hustle: They sell chicken fingers and nachos at theaters. I’d say this isn’t that surprising.

Joe: It’s easy money. Wrestling fans are fat. Fat people eat. Feed the fat people over-priced food. Bingo bango bongo. Quid pro quo.

Hustle: Stop that.

Oni: Strength it, since you’ll be relying on his technique and toughness.

Missou rolls alongside Oni, who doubles his money and doubles his fun as well as his die rolls

Oni: He appears to have regained some of his sense, though his taste may never be quite the same again. He’s at least cognizant enough to recognize he’s in the middle of wrestling a match. When he hits the turnbuckle, he stumbles forward and lets you clothesline him down hard. So you can tell he’s in working order. Won’t need to send out to the repair man after this.

Missou: Good. Pick him up, send him to the turnbuckle and clothesline him again.

Oni: And yet again, we require a strength roll. The collective wills it so.

Roll, roll roll

Oni: Second verse, same as the first.

Hustle: From downtown.

Missou: Let’s go for the hat trick.

Oni: Throw in a charisma with that strength roll. See if the crowd is eating this up or not.

Missou does as he is told, while Oni rolls in secret

Missou: 9 for the charisma, same ole for strength.

Oni: The crowd is half into it, mainly because of how hard you throw and hit but just when it seems its bridging the line between repetitive and good heeling, Collins surprises you by spinning out full force from the corner with a spinning heel kick. Roll toughness since you weren’t expecting it.

Missou: 30 all said and done.

Oni: It feels like Mother Goose feather dusting you with butterfly kisses.

Joe: Haaaaaaaaaaaaaa ha.

Missou: I’ll sell it anyways. Stumble back and hold myself up with the ropes.

Oni: Good sell. The crowd pops for his comeback. Fancy that, you got them into your match through wrestling! How novel!

Missou: Looks like we got ourselves a match here.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 16

(Sorry cats, the Wednesday one will likely be the shorter one always simply due to job constraints. Scabies and ladlemen, as many have asked in the comments the first series was part of Skitz' TripleBanger series and never finished due to the contest. So...yeah. Eat yer fill.)

Uncle Joe: Knock that cat the fuck out.

Hustle: He already did.

Joe: Nah nah. That half-ass shit don’t count, he got back up. You need to take him down, and I’m not talking downtown I’m talking six feet underground.

Cold: Wrestling. We’re wrestling.

Joe: Don’t listen to them Missou, nobody will miss him.

Missou: Angriness and joking aside, if I was wrestling then no way would I ever want to be responsible for a dead kid or even injuring some brat because I got too hot-headed and acted dumb.

Oni: Maybe. Or maybe he just whispered to you “You selling leather handbags or my offense, faggot?”

Missou: You’re shittin’ me.

Oni: Yep. He’s just running the rope to come at you again.

Missou: You jackwagon. Cut him off again, cuff him fierce.

Oni: A’ight.

Hustle: Cracker.

Oni: Since everything is coming up Milhouse, and we don’t have any concussions to worry about (until the autopsy)gimme three rolls: technique, stamina and charisma and we’ll base that on how the match plays out until such a time as I decide it does not.

Hustle: Until your fickleness has a tiger break into the building or Missou hitting the exact pressure point that causes the human body to explode.

Oni: No, I’m saving the tiger outbreaks for later. You know, I used to think that your ribs were bent to meet at your sternum so that if your sternum broke the ribs would straighten back out and tear through your body.

Hustle: How old were you when you thought that?

Oni: Sixteen.

Hustle: Jesus Christ.

Missou: I rolled a 5, a 3 and a 13 for a 20, 13 and 24 respectively. In case you were, you know, curious.

Oni: You could say I had a slight interest in it. Lemme roll mah own Toblerone. Hrm. Not so much that one.

Cold: Normal people’d just talk. You seem to vocally vomit copies of Dr. Seuss next to Pynchon.

Oni: Yet again, I am amazed at the breadth of your knowledge.

Cold: Told you before, I study up just to fuck wichu.

Oni: Such noble endeavors. Meanwhile, back on the farm, your match appears to be going exactly as planned. Whenever the kid starts mounting a comeback and looks like he might gain control you clobber him like the Thing in a pile of crabmen. You wouldn’t rank this among your best showings, but all you’re doing is putting a hurt on him so you’re not really that worried. This is, after all, his coming out party. He sells your offense like…well, like he did when you mollywhopped him. Except you know he’s doing it on purpose because your blows aren’t landing hard. Well, any harder than they normally do. When he pops up to kick you to light claps of a crowd fermenting with interest, you drop him with an elbow. When he spins off a clothesline and hurricanranas you, the din swells like a coming storm before you rain on his parade. When you punch him and he refuses to go down the few and fat assembled are full to bursting, erupting across the crowded hall in raucous cacophony of cheers, as if their soaring spirits could shoulder his weight, could support him and lift his heaving shoulders. You have, over the course of a paltry five minutes, gotten people concerned with whether or not the back grill will deep fry a hot dog invested in seeing this nobody stand up to a mountain.

Cold: He got a perfect Charisma roll didn’t he?

Oni: Perfect fucking 20. You also, having worked most of the match and not being a long distance runner in general, are starting to get a bit winded. Luckily, Collins butterfly wing offense has got the crowd believing that he’s starting to wear you out. Or at least not notice which is just as good, all things considered.

Missou: Going to do some serious stamina training after this if a five minute match gets me huffing.

Oni: You’re old in terms of old hands, not in terms of trees. You could work on it and boost it a point or two.

Hustle: Wait, you can boost stats?

Oni: Mmhmm. You have to do something to actually get it to move though. And they take time. Some may raise due to working out and hard work and some may to just wrestling over and over and learning. Your charisma could jolt up if you practice in front of a mirror every night. Or whatever. But don’t worry about it now, just focus on the game and worry about it when it comes up.

Joe: What if I write my promos down?

Oni: You can gain temporary boosts due to circumstances or aids, depending.

Cold: Needs to be less of that in general when it comes to wrestling.

Oni: Mayhaps. The end of the match comes closer and closer with as much reaction as you can pull from people as surprised that they’re enjoying this as they are that they can fit in two chairs at once.

Cold: You are unrelenting.

Oni: Meh. So we’re at the final comeback, Collins whipping out a jumping shoulder tackle that makes you force your eyes back from where they were trying to roll back. You sell it like a ram and stumble down to your knees. Still haven’t left your feet.

Hustle: We call that Yokozuna selling.

Oni: With you showing the first sign of wearing down and not immediate, pugilistic vindictiveness he takes to the skies. The low, fluorescent skies. He leaps to the top with such unrestrained fervor, such incredible zeal. He died as he lived; horizontal and high.

Hustle: Cute.

Missou: Moment of truth. As soon as he comes off, I throw my head forward and swat him out of the sky.

Joe: Can you swat with your head?

Missou: I don’t think it’s specifically limited to a hand.

Oni: I think it’s supposed to be, but you’ve been bastardizing the English language since you could spit chaw so it doesn’t really matter much now.

Missou: Jackass. What do I need to roll?

Oni: Strength with a minus 2 to it since you biffed your Stamina roll and technique, since you don’t want to explode the kids chest.

Hustle: That doesn’t happen. You know that doesn’t happen.

Oni: Just because I’ve never seen it doesn’t mean it hasn’t happened.

Missou: Hold up, you can get negative bonuses too?

Joe: You can’t have a negative bonus, sack bandit.

Missou; Kiss my grits.

Oni: You wanna be a cowboy so hard I’m picking sand out of my teeth. Yes, you can get negative “bonuses” if shit goes wrong or the stakes are against you or you try to wrestle a match blindfolded and also your opponent is blindfolded and also everyone watching wishes they were blindfolded.

Hustle: For example.

Oni: For example. Moving on, you’re going against Collins and his astronomical agility and already tested toughness. So get rolling.

Missou: I did while you were making more references no one will get. 27 strength and 28 technique.

Oni: You’re lucky you didn’t drop the left foot out on that second roll.

Hustle: You’re just making up phrase turns now.

Oni: I try to see if people can understand it, even if it doesn’t make any particular sense. I keep going farther to see what I can get away with.

Joe: Like my interactions with women.

Oni: Yes, like your sexual harassment suits. Let’s see how Collins fairs against Old Musty.

Oni throws the dice with unnecessary flair

Oni: He soars through the air with the greatest of ease until all the wind in him, and what seems the room, is knocked out in one swift and gut-wrenching (literally) headbutt. Wham, bam, goddam. The crowd, previously keeping him aloft with throngs of cheers now lets out that long “ooooooooooooooooooooh” that only an indy crowd can truly muster when something goes beyond the bounds of face or heel and moves into “that was fucking awesome” territory. For truly, the awesome exists without allegiance to either side and stands by itself, in its own kingdom with not a care left for the downtrodden and…er, uh…non-awesome.

Cold: Swing and a miss.

Oni: Oh whatever. The crowd goes apeshit cause you blistered the ring with the skidmark Collins left behind as he skated back the way he came. The little girl let’s out a louder OH SHIT and receives not even half the beating as before since her mom said it moments earlier.

Missou: Not gonna waste this momentum. Scoop the kid up, hit him with the Cardiac Arrest.

Oni: Just tech this time.

Keep rollin, rollin, rollin

Missou: 24.

Oni: Good enough. Collins is dead man falling, sells it to the floor in a heap. The crowd has hit the inverse bell curve and comes right back as they were waning, with excitement and winced eyes.

Missou: Cover his ass.

Oni: As it is written, so let it be done. As you do, Collins breathes out a soft, and heard only by you, “Match over” The ref lays his hand to the mat for the 3 count and the bell rings, un-mic-ed and inaudible among the tremendous rain of voices and claps from such a small assemblage of people.

E-mail me at: OniBarubary@gmail.com

Source: lordsofpain.net