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It's Time To Play The Game!
Chapter 30

(Keep sending in wrestler ideas! Do it you bastards! I got a decent couple of them but I need more, like the sun needs plasma. I'll post what I did on Wednesday this coming Wednesday for you late bloomers who have no idea what I'm talking about. Until then, chapter!)

Hustle: So are you going to Book from a room away or should I drag you out by your nostrils?

MissouriDragon: Careful, may have to wash your eyes out with bleach after venturing into Oni’s premises.

Hustle: I’ll take my chances.

Cold: Numbnuts, I got a 13 and a 15!

OniBarubary: (still a room away) Alright, now add ten to the sum!

Cold: Thirty-eight!

Oni: Now double your money and make it stack!

Uncle Joe: Supreeeeeme!

Hustle: It’s double your money and make A stack. And you –

Hustle levels a finger at Joe

Hustle: What did I say about encouraging him?

Joe: To do it at every opportunity.

Hustle: No. Wrong. Bad Joe.

Oni exits his room and leans against the door-frame separating them

Oni: What? I like Jay-Z. I’m allowed to like Jay-Z. Big Pimpin’ is my jam.

Missou: Oh lord.

Hustle: If you continue any further I’m going to have to kill you for all black people in the world.

Oni: Enjoy jail for the rest of your life, where those same black people will sodomize you nightly.

Hustle: No court would convict me.

Cold: Mercy killing. Justifiable homicide. No tell me what a 38 gets me.

Oni: Gun jokes and bullets in head aside, it’s pretty fair. You get it down in a take or two and upload it to Youtube no problem. Getting hits, now that’s the tricky part. What ideas do you have to get your name out there and get people to actually watch this shit?

Cold: I dunno. Tweet it, I guess. Or put it on Facebook or Tumblr.

Oni: Decent idea, but that’s not increasing exposure. That only gets you to the people who already follow you. And they may spread it to people, but if those people aren’t already following you it still limits you. Not a lot of people.

Hustle: You gonna sit down and join us? Throw your legs up and rest a while?

Oni: No, I gotta see if this torrent is being seeded.

Hustle: You really downloading that Nanny Neko Case crap?

Oni: No, I just said that because it sounded funny. So how do you increase exposure, Cold?

Missou: So he’s obviously not in these big names yet. Well, big for indies.

Joe: Big for indies is drawing 20 people and selling a t-shirt.

Missou: But is he wrestling in smaller places and other local feds?

Oni: I’d say so. He’s not green; trying to break into these places and being allowed to do this storyline wouldn’t work if he was a nobody.

Cold: But I am a nobody.

Oni: You’re a relative nobody. There’s a difference.

Joe: Yeah, relatively nobody knows who you are.

Oni: Moreso you just haven’t wrestled in the big leagues. Well, the minor leagues. The big…minor leagues?

Hustle: Yes, minor league competition still exists professionally.

Oni: You obviously can’t make money just from working shows that open at your local bingo hall so you’ve had to work myriad bingo halls around the area, any little local fed that can book one a couple states away or so. You get to do a couple shows a week if you’re lucky. You’re pretty sure you know what the inside of every high school gym looks like in…wait, did we decide where you lived exactly?

Cold: East Coast.

Oni: Yes, that’s quite exact. Pick somewhere a little more specific.

Cold: Georgia.

Missou: Yep, I’m sure you’re living quite the easy life in Georgia what with being a tan muslim and all.

Hustle: It just means he’ll get over huge as a heel. Or beaten in a parking lot by married cousins.

Joe: They have that crazy retard strength going for them.

Oni: Alright, so you have your little Georgian area and you wrestle shows down in Florida and by Louisiana and sometimes up tickling the taint of Pennsylvania. You cover a decent portion of the East Coast but you’re not the cat’s pajamas.

Hustle: You’re also not stuck in the 1950s.

Oni: So you have a bit of coverage. Maybe a couple matches on Youtube. So outside of your locality, you are pretty much a non-entity. What do you do?

Cold: These feds that want me like EVOLVE and RoH and whatnot, they on board and in talks with me? Am I already speaking to them creatively?

Oni: Sure. They decided to bring you in with this gimmick, so they’re pretty behind it. Gabe doesn’t work there anymore, you don’t have to worry about pushes grinding to a halt because he got cold feet or winning the belt after 6 failures lasting 8 months.

Hustle: Gabe runs EVOLVE.

Oni: Daw fuck.

Cold: Well, I’ll call them up. Give them a heads up to my video and tell them to link it.

Missou: That’s not too good. “Hey everyone, check out this new guy we booked! Here’s his video complaining about how…we…refuse to book him.”

Cold: Nah nah nah. It won’t be no dumb shit like that. I’ll have them tell people not to listen to me. Don’t link the video because they don’t want to give me views, but tell them to mention my name and say shit like “We do not know what Mr. al-Nassir is talking about, as we have not approached him for a variety of reasons that are not related to race or religion” Like, make them give some corporate or business sounding statement but make sure to mention my complaints somehow and dismiss them. That way people get curious and look me up and that’ll lead to my video and blog entires and pages and whatever the hell else I got going.

Oni: Now you’re thinking.

Cold: I wasn’t before?

Missou: Is that so smart an idea to not have a direct link to your video? People are lazy, lazy as hell. If they see some generic statement like that from a company they like, they’ll just side with them without doing any research and spout biased opinions with a foundation in sycophantic cocksucking and no effort to increase their knowledge.

Joe: Think you just described politics.

Hustle: But if you just put the link on their posts or whatever then it will stink of work.

Missou: We’re heading into some Russo territory and I’m not quite sure I like it.

Oni: Whoa whoa whoa. I would hardly call this Russo-ish. I realize that his name has become synonymous with sort of blurred line booking but when it’s done right I think it can be really effective.

Missou: I’m just a staunch believer in kayfabe. You should never expose the business in the back.

Hustle: Well hold on, I said that a direct link would stink of work but I don’t see this as being as bad as breaking kayfabe. It’s still an in character storyline and such, it’s just very vague and subtle about it so that people themselves are assuming shit. I wouldn’t even call this a worked shoot, as he’s been booked by them and there’s no real truth to the claim. So it’s a storyline that has a real feeling to it to get people interested in someone they would never know about otherwise.

Missou: I suppose. I just don’t like straddling the fourth wall. Reeks of bad booking. I know this is a game and it’ll play out based on rolls and other shit but I don’t think it’s real effective.

Oni: I won’t get into it now, but it’s evolve or die, man. Wrestling as a whole needs to stop pretending it’s in a static time. People, tastes, media, everything change all the time and if wrestling stays the same it won’t survive or be anywhere as good as they could be. It’s not something to cry about and look back on, people should be looking forward and seeing how they can develop these new ideas and tastes and cultures into a product. It’s not in a fucking circus tent anymore.

Missou: If you’re going through with this tactic, make sure that they use your whole name. It’ll be easier for people that way. And you don’t want to hand all of your shit to them on a silver platter but you need to give them something.

Cold: Word, they can do that then. Just say “Runihura al-Nassir’s recent comments have no basis as we have never refused to book anyone due to the color of their skin or their personal beliefs” Something like that.

Oni: You can do it. Takes a couple phone calls. Roll agility to see if you can press the buttons on your phone correctly.

Cold: You serious?

Oni: Roll on, big doggie.

Cold, displeasure on his face, drops a die with a clink

Cold: Fucking four.

Oni: You accidentally dial an Italian pizza place run by Mexicans who can’t understand your muddled ravings about racism and blog posts, so they give up and just send four pizzas with everything to your house.

Cold: Do I need to roll to see if I don’t choke on my own tongue while eating all that pizza?

Oni: Nah, I’m messing with you. You call them and they get right on it. Tweets, blog posts, whatever awful word someone has attached to a social media proponent that sounds more like the noise a dying possum makes than a digital shoutbox. It hits the net a few days after your post. As such, you see your Youtube video hit that annoying 303 mark where Youtube has to calculate new totals and takes days to do so. So for a long while you have no idea if it increased your views outside of your 4 twitter followers.

Joe: And two of them are your mom and dad.

Oni: And a full half is family. Days go by and still I think ‘bout you. I mean, eventually the totals start adding up right. I wouldn’t say they’re Zack Ryder levels, but they’re respectable for someone that no one knows about.

Joe: Yo don’t read the comments. I bet they read like posts typed with jutting Neanderthal foreheads.

Oni: Yeah, the comments and like/dislike shit is all over the place. Most don’t realize it’s a work and are defending their companies at full fucking mast. Man the starboard guns and let loose the cannons. You think they got free Snickers’ bars after each show and the DVDs came packed with blowjobs. Their coat of arms is blazoned proudly on their chest and they won’t hear any defamation of the federation they so staunchly throw money at.

Hustle: Successful start then.

Missou: It’s still online, man. No telling how many of these gaffs make it to the shows or whatever.

Oni: New age, dude. Most indies are embracing online connectivity because it expands their audience. Most indy watchers are smarks and have some form of web presence. I wouldn’t be surprised if most people knew who he was when he shows up out of the blue and breaks Bennett in half with his torso.

Cold: Is it just gonna be the one before I do that?

Oni: No no, you got a bunch more in you. I won’t make you speech ‘em all, but you’ll have to roll to see the general way they get over after some time. Gimme two backstages and one charisma.

Cold: I’ll give you two in the mouth and one in the gut.

Oni: That sounded dirty.

Cold gives a lob of the dice, which come up with a 3 a 9 and a 17

Cold: Ballsacks. Not so hot.

Oni: Eh, whatever. Like I said, you’re taping these from your home and just putting em up. It’s no big deal and you can stop when you’re happy. So most of them are decent enough and you get people to follow you a little. At least the RoHbots and…EVOLVErians? know who you are now. A good thing, considering you’re going to debut at two shows two nights apart by interfering, beating up some dude and running out with security tailing you.

Cold: Can I beat up security?

Oni: Anything you want, little buddy. You go hog wild. We’ll do the EVOLVE show first. Now who’s the whitest white guy on that roster?

Cold: Chuck Taylor.

Oni: Too heelish.

Hustle: Arik Cannon.

Oni: Looks too much like Cold.

Cold: For the last time, I’m not Arik Cannon.

Hustle: Chris Dickinson.

Oni: Who?

Cold: Tozawa.

Oni: No way dude, we want someone you can realistically beat down.

Joe: Homicide.

Oni: Not white, but good effort.

Hustle: Bobby Fish.

Oni: Oooh! Perfect! We’ll have you murderlate Bobby Fish. He had that match with Danielson that got keyboard stained everywhere so if you dismantle him, it’ll work out pretty well for getting heat.

Hustle: Hold on, is he even a face?

Oni: Is now.

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Intermission!

Alright lady (since I only have evidence of one reading my column) and gentlemen (cause it would be rude to say “wrestle-dudes”) we’re gonna take a brief intermission that will resume on Friday because:

1. I am a lazy motherfucker and have literally been out of the house for 14 hours. I think I can hear my legs crying.
2. I had planned on doing this anyway, and when debating whether or not I should do this or more column, I figured this would be more appreciated and enjoyed than a half-assed “I’m so fucking tired I think I see the beauty inherent in all life, no wait, I’m dying, that’s death” column where I just soldier through it to get an update out without putting any care, effort or humor into it.
3. Hustle called me something anti-Semitic in his latest column and made me weep into my tub of yogurt.

One of those is false! Guess which one!

Anyways, to fill up space and because I’ve never really talked to you about…well, much of anything I’ll meander a bit about wrestling as I totally promised I’d never do ever in a million years (and subsequently promised I’d break almost immediately, perhaps traveling back in time so I could break it before I had even promised it). Then I shall reveal the first of…fuck, I don’t have a catchy name for this shit at all. The thing where I take your wrestler ideas and tell you how they would play in the game/how I would utilize them in real wrestlingness. I have no mind to come up with names at the moment, and will probably do something based off of my “Triple H intro song” theme of naming but for now I’ll call it…huh…Wrestlebutt. Good enough.

So without further attempts to drive people away and write a “suckish” column (hey, I have my first detractor and first defender. Does that mean I’ve made it?!) let’s talk about wrestling. Which I assume you’re into. What with this being a wrestling website and all. Unless you come here for the occasional “BIG OLE DIVA TITTIES” that UGO promises as the last news item yet every time I click takes me to some site talking about Fred Durst’s new album or how hilarious Jennifer Aniston is in “Oh God, How Do I Keep Getting Work 2: Why Does This Keep Happening?”

So CM Punk.

Yes yes, everyone is going to be talking about this in their columns. Yes yes, you’ve read a hundred people tell you how awesome it is or how “it wasn’t THAT awesome, it was pretty good, I’d rank it number 9 behind Austin, Rock, Jake the Snake, Verne Troyer, Diesel, Greg Hackenschmidt, Austin again, Kendrick and that one time Shawn Michaels made a cocksucking motion to a fan” it is. But allow me to let you in on a little secret.

I haven’t watched WWE programming in probably over 2 months.

Now let me both qualify that and elucidate that a little. I have watched SOME programming, but it is mainly matches that people have graciously told me that I need to see such as some Superstars matches or specific promos or segments that I Youtube and generally turn off halfway through. This isn’t too big of a thing, really. I’m sure there are plenty like me who do something similar. But I wouldn’t hesitate, nor be proud, to say that I’m not like most people. When I like something, I like it intensely. I just bought 2 one terabyte Hard Drives because I ran out of space on my 3 500 gig ones for Anime and Manga. I have to regularly ship books through the mail to my parents house because I voraciously read a book a day (which explains the raccoon bags around my eyes that have existed since I read Jurassic Park in 3rd grade one day out of the blue, to my mother’s surprise). My video game collection, stretching back to the original Nintendo just got another shelf. I am a packrat of hobbies and interests.

This is no different with wrestling. I watch most every American indy that makes tape, even RoH though I do not much like it’s product anymore (this will become relevant in a moment). I watch JAPW, love CHIKARA and PWG, catch CZW who is steadily improving, see the random OVW matches to catch up and coming WWE hopefuls. I catch EVOLVE and DGUSA when I can and plan to hit up the NJPW in America shows when they come around again, now that I am gainfully employed. I catch as much Lucha as I can, AAA and CMLL having miserable undercards but almost always deliver on the mains. I wish IWRG made more tape because seeing Black Terry mollywhop some fat Mexican is some of the best wrestling going on right now that no one watches. I still catch NOAH and NJPW or whatever, despite it falling from such blissful highs in the 90s to such mediocre piddling in the 00s. I try and see what I can from Inoki’s fed and frequently see what joshi is still going on there (hint: watching it will most likely get you a 5-10 prison sentence and put on a sex offenders list).

This isn’t a badge of honor. Hell, you’ve seen how I treat my nerdery in my own columns. This is just how I am and how I attach to things I enjoy. I do not go half cocked into my tastes. My music library is the vast majority of my computer’s hard drive and if it crashed and I lost it all, I’d probably legit cry.

So then why the fuck am I completely okay with not watching WWE, the biggest federation in the world, and the one that got me into wrestling, that I have followed since the goddam 80s? Save a brief period when I did not watch, due to various reason, around the turn of the century I have kept a steady viewing of Mondays and then Fridays in my schedule.

Honestly? I was already fading fast when Christian lost the belt. That specifically, just shut off my ability to care about wrestling. And it’s not in a “you’re such a smarky smark, you’re just pissed blah blah blah, wah wah wah” way. Man, I do that apostrophe aside a lot in this column. Oh well. Anyways, it was because WWE had as of late not been doing a hell of a lot in getting me to care about their matches or wrestlers. Anyone I enjoyed was not a focus. Anyone I wanted to see wrestle got 2 minutes and lost. Any storyline that showed promise and got me to mark again (Nexus, Christian’s title win) were immediately crushed under the weight of WWE’s return to the status quo and inability to think outside of a box where they are not pushed to be creative due to competition. I stuck around to watch Miz’ abortion of a title run and wondered why I watched at all if I derived so little enjoyment from it. And then Christian lost.

It’s not a matter of me wanting WWE to book a certain way. Rather, it’s that WWE books a certain way that is a complete anti-thesis to my interests and likes. I like long matches. I like good matches (burn!). I like Bourne and Swagger and Ryder and Christian and Danielson and Chris motherfucking Masters. This is not a company built to push these individuals, to make them take up time on the show. The time-takers, the faces of the brands and prime attractors of WWE’s audience, are not the ones I like. So when WWE gives me what I want, they almost always do so to take it away again. I get my long Bourne matches, but it’s to put others over into storylines I don’t care about. I get my Swagger but he’s in a storyline between announcers. I get my Christian in the spotlight and he loses it in 2 days. Maybe it’s selfish of me to watch to see things I specifically want to see when I am obviously not the target.

But you know what?

Wrestling is a selfish hobby

No one watches because of what others like. They watch and sit and stay every week because there is something there that they can find enjoyable. They, themselves, for whatever reason possesses them. So is it any wonder that when it focuses on things I don’t enjoy, I stop liking it? It might be silly to expect them to cater to me, but I wouldn’t be as put off if it wasn’t capable of creating a product that I could enjoy sections of. It certainly was capable back in the 90s. It certainly was capable at periods in the 00s. It certainly is capable of it now. As I’ve referenced time and time again in these columns, because I am a spiteful bastard and can’t help but snipe, it’s not that WWE isn’t capable of creating good things that me and members of the IWC can enjoy or that we aren’t easily pleased and are just too critical. It’s just that WWE doesn’t even try anymore. It is capable of so much, which is why me and others like me keep watching through all the bad shit they force us to sit through to reach a golden light.

And proof of it is CM Punk’s promo this past RAW. Welcome to a year ago, when Nexus debuted. When WWE showed that when it is on, there is nothing like it. It can explode interest with some of the best shit in the business. And while we can certainly attribute much of that to Mr. Punk himself, it can’t be done just by him. They let him go out there, they created this storyline. They fucking tried something new and different or at least new for the moment and set us on fire again.

I will be watching next week, but don’t hate me because I approach it with trepidation. WWE is an abusive spouse, and I am the beaten lover. I cannot help but to go back every time a new angle draws me in again, when I can feel that burning passion I had once felt birth life in my chest again. When I jump up and down on my couch going “Holy shit, what the fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck, oh my goooooooooooooooooooood” which I literally did when Punk called Steph an idiot. But don’t lash out and call me names when WWE reaches for the paper and I flinch, raising my arms protectively and instinctively because the last time I felt this safe Wade Barrett was buried under a literal mountain of chairs. Don’t blame me for being tense, walking two steps behind as I freshly have in my mind the last time WWE hurt me and tore from me that passion I have for this fake sport. Because it wasn’t that long ago. And the time before that seems closer still.

I think I’ve whined enough and belittled spousal abuse a decent amount. Besides, you don’t come here to see me whinge about wrestling, right? So without further ado…

NOW IS TIME FOR WRESTLEBUTT!

So who is our first Wrestlebutt (ugh, I promise I’ll change it, I swear) contestant? Mainly due to the fact that only one of you responded on the Facebook comments themselves (and because I’d totally forget to do him [little homo] if the last columns went off the main page) I figured I’d do Michael Slash-Pino’s wrestler idea. So come on down, Michael! Now is Wrestlebutt (ugh)! I can only assume the slash is to differentiate between his Michaelness and his Pinoness. Maybe it’s like a race thing, like how half-breed Filipinos tack pino onto the end of their other race. So he’s half Michaelian and half Filipino. Or maybe his dad is Slash. Also a viable possibility.

Moving on past my errant ramblings, let’s take a look at what he posted. Sorry Michael/Pineapple (i.e. Hustle’s favorite commenter) but I think my computer hates Facebook as much as I do so it may have cut off a bit of your idea. No worries, I’ll fill in the gaps and irrevocably ruin what you were going for. Joy!

Slash: Alignment - Face, Character - Stands up for those who have had enough of what society has to offer/starts riots and disobeys authority...easy transition into heel if needed, Good Mic Work, Has kind of a Jericho/Edge wrestling style, Entrance music - Dead Letter by Cage9, Finisher - Genocide Cutter (Variation on the RKO) Submission - Web of Lies (variation on the Sharpshooter) Signatures - Spear, Tornado DDT, and Running STO-

And that’s where it cuts off. I can only assume he was killed in some sort of human trafficking deal or died on the lifeboat from the Philippines while trying to make it across the ocean to his homeland of Michaeldonia. So in your honor, and in your memory, I shall continue your legacy by booking this wrestler!

First thing’s first, Slash’s character of an anarchist/rioter and authoritative disobeyer can work very easily as a face. Austin did it for fucking years and look at his legacy. So it’s an archetype that can stand the test of time, as we all know. This would obviously have to be played differently. No beer drinking and throwing up deuces because he’s a bad-ass who doesn’t care. He’d have to care to really be seen as a true anarchic character. And if he was to get fans behind him, then he needs an authority to stand up against. Long term booking? Whatever federation he was in needs someone in a position of power that abuses that power. Specifically, a booker or “owner” of the promotion. It may be a tired trick to have a McMahon-esque character but it’s very hard to come up with any other type of character in the wrestling world that holds power over the fans and the wrestlers both. It could work decently against a faction that was dominant within the promotion itself, but if he attacked factions to give people a fighting chance or to allow matches instead of beatdowns to happen or even the odds against dominance it would lose some of its flavor because he would be giving order to a promotion that is in disorder and, say with me, “anarchy”. As such, we should have a dominant figure who controls the promotion and instills an order in it that is detrimental to the fans. Now, I realize this is booking an entire promotion around a single star, but bear with me. There are is a lot of leeway in this, just as McMahon didn’t involve himself in every storyline when feuding with Austin. He’d have to be careful working in other promotions though. His anarchic character could mostly be played as a heel in more serious promotions, since they would not have an authority to rebel against. As such it would be on a smaller level, ruining matches and fucking up people’s shots. Easy heel tactics. Just have him always try to create chaos at the expense of wrestlers and fans and he’ll roll in heat, and more importantly, get the face pops when they thwart his ruination. In CHIKARA or PWG, since the fans are given what they want by the people in charge, who are well liked, he’d have to play it off as comedy a bit. Not out and out, but since they are more humorous promotions, it’d be much better received by the fans. Things like trying to rebel against Quack and being told by other wrestlers that he’s actually pretty well-liked and him going “Oh” and hitting a forearm or something. Maybe not the best example, but fuck you, I’ve written 2500 words in 40 minutes. Cut me some slack. Those are just some brief ideas. If I was deadset on pushing him hard I’d have to give him some pay-off and think hard into the future about what a face victory means for him. Long term booking is very important here. He’d need a reason to stick around once order and rule has been lifted. While it may be amusing to have him interfere in matches against heels or fuck shit up just to fuck it up, it would become stale very quick. He needs purpose, which is my only fault with him. Maybe put him into a storyline where he keeps wanting to fight different people in different match types so he can just make the card as fucked up and random as possible. That’s kinda weak. Random for the sake of random can wear on people pretty fast. It’s why Aqua Teen Hunger Force is only 12 minutes long, if.

His moveset works very well, specifically the Edge moveset. Even more specifically if he is an earlier Edge and not tubby hugs dude finisher Edge who lost much of his original style when his injuries mounted up. I’m talking about counter-Edge, the one who had a countermove for every situation and often won matches by taking down someone out of nowhere after countering their moves. As an anarchist, this is the best way to imply chaos through a moveset. He ruins the flow of matches, he fucks up what people want to have happen and directly counters it. His moveset is based entirely around ruining what the opponent wants and throwing it back at them. It fits very well. As such, his finishers should also follow suit. The cutter variation is fine, something he can bust out of nowhere. Simple, easy. Can hit it on a variety of opponents, which is always a plus. The Sharpshooter variation I would switch up a bit, and make it similar to Lance Storm’s rolling half crab. I’d want it to be a counter of some kind, or at least be modified enough that he can slap it on very quickly with little set up. It would get much bigger pops than if he did it like Bret Hart, who would milk in the applause and cheers. Since his moveset is about surprise, tripping an opponent and rolling off his back to lock it in would be prime. So the moveset fits well.

The music is decent enough. I am not as familiar with Cage9 but the song is okay. It is not as…anarchistic as I would prefer, but the anarchy songs I can think of have all been done to death and I’d prefer to keep it something people haven’t heard before. Clash and Rise Against may give off false impressions. So sure, Cage9 works. It’s catchy enough and reminds me of music that is used in montages and everybody loves montages. Get Adam from the WWE to make a highlight reel to that shit and you’ll be over for years. That’s all I can really say about that. I don’t think it is particularly apt, but it’s not bad. I’d probably have a bad line of thought and make him come out to grindcore or Melt-Banana or something. Which would pretty much kill any good will in the room (as well as anyone with perfect hearing). Sue me.

Decent idea. I’d make him work on his mic skills a lot seeing as it is very important what he’d say to get people in and actually feel like he’s “doing the right thing” by bringing this chaos, since chaos is generally frowned upon in polite society. I’d imagine he’d have a good following with kids though. Fuck the rules and all that. Maybe music they were more familiar with would work a tad better.

Alright folks, that’ll wrap up this week’s column. Hope you enjoyed my rant and ideas on Michael/Pino’s (may he rest in peace) character. Keep those ideas coming in for wrestlers you’d be/play/what-have-you and you’ll definitely see it in my Wednesday editions. I got all the ones sent so far, and are keeping them written down so don’t worry if I don’t get to yours with anything resembling timeliness. It will appear. And don’t you others not send yours in because you think it’s stupid or can’t be buggered! I will read and write about everything I get so don’t you quit on me now! Sorry for my Angelfire homepage formatting, html is a bitch and I am not as proficient as the Huss with coding and setting up pleasing to the eye arrangements as of yet.

Until Friday, where we pick back up with Runihura, good night and good luck! Sorry for the wall of text, but hey, at least it's 3x what I normally write.

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Chapter 31

Cold: So how is this beatdown gonna work?

OniBarubary: How expositional of you to ask, my fine un-feathered friend.

Hustle: Readers wouldn’t need the reminder if you just knuckled down and wrote a normal damn chapter Wednesday.

Oni: Dude, fourth wall.

Hustle: Call me CM Punk, nigga.

Joe: Not like it was a very solid wall anyway. You knocked that shit down first column.

Oni: Well, at least pretend. Or we’re going straight meta-narrative in this bitch.

Hustle: Fine, never mind. Whatever has you writing less 6,000 word diatribes on the ontological origins of finisher names and more Hustle being awesome in yet another column.

Oni: That column was a masterpiece. You respect my craft.

MissouriDragon: Runaway train, never coming back…

Oni: Oh right, beatdowns. Forgot this is a shorter column day, can’t waste too much time.

Joe: Fourth wall.

Oni: Fuck!

Cold: So do I run the pain train on this Fish?

Oni: Actually, I thought I’d handle this a little differently.

Missou: Whuh-oh.

Joe: I’m out.

Oni: Goddammit, at least wait until I tell you what it is.

Missou and Joe grumble, but remain seated. Still grumbly, though

Oni: I’m going to have you flex your creative and descriptive muscles today, which will allow all four of you to participate instead of 75% of the group sitting around and making smart-ass comments.

Hustle: I’m fairly certain that’s why anyone reads this column.

Oni: Then comment away. Still you’ll each be taking a turn to describe Runihura dismantling someone, no rolls, and I’ll decide how successful your beatdown was by how good your explanation is. How vivid you can make it, or how funny it is, or whatever. Just go hog wild. Let your words paint a picture.

Missou: You done?

Oni: More or less.

Missou: Whuh-oh.

Joe: I’m out.

Oni: Oh fuck you very much. You’ll each take a beatdown on someone, which will build up to Cold’s eventual debut.

Cold: How’s he debuting? And where?

Oni: I shall alert you as soon as we get there.

Cold: You have no idea, do you?

Oni: Not a whit.

Cold: Glad you’ve thought this out.

Oni: We’re starting with you, little buddy. At the latest EVOVLE show in…somewheresville, somewheresas…Bobby Fish is having a match with his long-standing rival…uh…

Joe: Homicide.

Oni: Sure, Homicide, why not? What’s your obsession with Homicide? Never mind, I don’t care. So Fish is wrestling Cide and the crowd is into it, sort of, not really. Cide kinda blows lately and Fish is having an off night.

Hustle: Which is really any night he’s not wrestling Danielson.

Missou: Sounds like he’ll be having an off career then. Poor soul.

Oni: You, who for the sake of time, boredom and unnecessary bullcockery, went over all this shit earlier with Gabe, are sitting first row. Midway through the match, Cide gets dumped to the outside in front of – oh luck of luck, chances of chances! – your section. To be more specific, your seat. To be less specific, he’s totally right there. When he stands up to go back into the ring, while Fish is busy playing to a crowd wondering where all the 2.9 kickouts are, you rise like a bronze mountain, a victim of tectonic plates moving in a matter of seconds. You quake the guardrail with Cide’s body, dragging him back against it, sinking him to the floor. The crowd reacts appropriately; as most do not know of you, they believe some errant fan has just concussed one of their favorites.

Hustle: He’s a heel.

Oni: One of their least favorites, but still a valued and respected worker. Even so, it’s shocking. Fan interactions are always a bit more one-sided in the wrestler’s favor. Since you’re the size of an arrogant walrus and since you dragging Cide’s head into the barrier seems pretty realistic in causing pain, especially with your tree trunk arms, the fans may be lured into believing this shit ain’t worked yo. In one smooth motion, you leap the guard rail and slide into the ring. From here on, it’s your party Pontius. Drop it.

Cold: Alright, gimme a moment.

Joe: Pretend it’s 8 Mile, except instead of dropping phat beats and putting down gangstas in a rap battle you’re placating Oni’s author boner and drawing out wrecking some dude’s shit into a hundred useless words.

Missou: What he said, but more insulting towards Oni.

Oni: Ignore these heathens and create.

Cold: Alright. I run in and stare Fish down. I’m a good deal taller than him, so he has to stare up at me and I roll my shoulders to let him now he’s going to get hurt. It strains my shirt, some ratty t-shirt, and bulges when I breathe. The air is really heavy, and a crowd that normally chants at the stiffest shot or sickest bump that could end a wrestler’s career is silenced by it. They know what Fish knows. They know he’s going to get hurt. And worst of all, they don’t know what’s real. It isn’t helped by a security guy, who to their knowledge but not mine is in on it, who works for the pool hall as a bouncer on off days leaps into the ring to be dropped by a pistoned right hand. He doesn’t bump or sell, he just drops with the ease of someone who’s seen a dozen fall the same way on any given weekend. And this brief moment lets Fish get the drop on me. He rails on my back, gives as hard as he can, and I clutch up instinctively. The crowd cheers as they are programmed to do, to a scene familiar to them. Good vs. evil. But what they don’t realize is I’m good. I’m the good one. And though this’ll end the way they’ve seen it end a thousand times, the surprise will still fill their stupefied faces. Good triumphs. He’s backed me to the corner with his flurry of weak strikes and I manage to push a foot against his chest to push him back. With this space between us, my back to the post, I throw all I have at him. I hit The Cross and knock all the breath out of him and find it’s the only air in the room as everyone else has gasped inwards and taken it all for themselves. We crash awkwardly to the mat and when one of us rises, it isn’t him. With more security incoming but not yet arrived, side by side with members of the locker room, it’s time to take my leave. I rush out and hop the rail before anyone can get to me and leave half behind as they tend to the two men I’ve injured. For a man my size, for a man my speed, they don’t have any hope of catching up. I run myself all the way to my car and take off like a shot in the night.

So yeah, that’s mine.

Oni: That’s somewhere around a 6.

Cold: I’m gonna hold you down and let Viscera do naked jumping jacks above your upturned face.

Oni: Kidding! Kidding. That was quite good man, if I do say so myself. And I do. Because I said it.

Joe: I can do better with both balls tied behind my back.

Oni: Sexual kinks aside, you’ll prove it next. We’ll get to you after this. Meanwhile Cold, I’d say that was a pretty impressive debut.

Missou: Impressive? He knocked down two guys shorter than him by a foot. That’s not impressive, that’s business as usual.

Oni: I dunno, he described it really well so I was impressed.

Cold: I read a lot. You know this.

Oni: I forget.

Missou: It was alright, but he didn’t do anything impressive.

Oni: He’s not supposed to. He’s supposed to show up and act like a crazy fan, except instead of getting pushed around by Nick Papageorgio he lays out legit tough guys who are paid to hurt each other. I’d say it works well at its simplest.

Missou: Fine, but when it’s my turn I’ll show you a real walloping.

Oni: Yes yes, I’m sure it’ll read like Hemingway.

Missou: Hemingway was a good writer.

Oni: After the suicide.

Missou: Eat a dick.

(Another week down! Don't expect another "normal column" like yesterday any time soon. It'll be the last you hear me talking about actual wrestling for a while, unless by some collective miracle of the deity of each religion I get invited to be in someone else's column. Not bloody likely, though. Enjoy friends and keep those submissions coming!)

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Explanations! Importante! Read Below!

Alright guys, time to do some 'splainin'. As some of you may or may not have heard from Hustle (much thanks to the man) I had trouble with my internet and was unable to fix it for a ridiculously long amount of time, especially given this day and age. Turns out, it wasn't just my internet but my computer! Joy! So fast as I could, I have solved all the problems that have prevented me from posting and/or writing (couldn't do this week's columns on my disastered computer, and wasn't about to do them on my tablet while scrounging my buddy's internet). So apologies to all for this unexpected week off. I'm a bit pissed I couldn't get anything down, but it did give me some time to think about some other shit. Mainly I will hopefully either Monday or sometime next week, have something special for you guys. And sort of for me. Since I will not just be posting it here, online, but perhaps if my cards are played right, in a physical form.

I am sure you fine fellows and fellettes will love it since if you've been enjoying my work thus far, it'll be all that and a bag of ham. Like, some sort of hambag.

Once again, sorry for the sudden disappearance and resurgence without content. But sometimes life is a shit pickle. Hustle's got his workarounds and posts from beyond the grave but my necromantic powers and commitment are much smaller than his.

That being said, look forward to next week where I will once more be delving into the breach!

Also, I updated this one because I didn't want to start another just to give you guys a big ole fake-out. So yeah.

E-mail me at: OniBarubary@gmail.com

That one. Mail me at that e-mail. Do it. Fucking do it, you pussy.

Source: lordsofpain.net