The screeching sound of a towel wiping mist away off a mirror that built up from a nice long shower is heard.
I say to myself as I look at my reflection.
“Because you don’t look ready.”
I finish drying my hair with the towel around my neck as I head over to the sink and grab a hold of my black leather carrying case with a brown leather trim. I unzip the bag and reach inside and begin to take out some of the contents. The items that are taken out are an electronic razor from Norelco, a Bic disposable razor, and a can of shaving cream with aloe inside for sensitive skin.
I plug in the Norelco razor and flick the on switch. The razor hums to life as I go over each side of my face trimming my facial hair. I watch as the freshly cut hair falls and begins to darken the white marble sink. I tap the razor on the side of the sink to let the loose hair fall out of the blades. I repeat this process two more times as I trim each side of my face from right, middle, and left. The soothing music comes to an end as I turn off the razor and look at my cutting job in the mirror. Satisfied, I turn on the water and wait a minute as it slowly heats up.
“Tonight is the night you have been waiting for in UTA, a guaranteed title opportunity at one of the championships and you aren’t fucking ready.”
I clean the razor blades before I tap it on the edge of the sink to air dry the blades.I place the razor on the counter and grab the moist towel and wipe my face clean of any stray hairs as the water begins to exit out of the sink.
“Disappointing in you right now.”
I unplug my electronic razor and place it back into the bag. I stare at myself in the mirror and crack my withered old neck joints to give myself some euphoria. I sit the towel down onto the counter and begin to turn the sink knobs until the hot and cold water is blended to my liking. As the warm water is running in the sink, I grab the can of shaving cream. I pop the top and shoot the contents into my left hand. I place the can back onto the sink counter and place my left hand slightly under the stream of warm water. Once the water has traveled into my hand to lightly lather the cream I pull it away from the sink and begin to rub my hands together. Once both hands are covered in facial cream I begin to apply it to my skin. I place the shaving cream on my neck, above and below my freshly trimmed beard, and besides my soul patch beneath my bottom lip. I wash my hands of the shaving cream in the water stream as I pull the plug up and the sink begins to rise full of water.
“You think your opponents are going to make it easy for you?”
As the water rises, I wipe my hands dry on my towel and I reach for the yellowish disposable razor. I turn off the water after it reaches the desired water level and I dip the razor into the water to moisten up the blades. I bring the razor up to my neck and I begin to shave away the stubble in a downward motion from left to right. I dip the razor into the water to clean it and repeat the process two more times.
“Trust me they won’t.”
After I finish with the neck area, I begin to strategically shave the stubble on my cheeks around my beard. Once I’ve finished that and cleaned the blades, I finish up shaving by cleaning the area around my soul patch under my bottom lip. I toss the used razor into the trash bin under the sink and clean my face and neck of shaving cream with my towel. I push the drain button down and watch as the water slowly exits the sink as I put the can of shaving cream back into the bag and zip it back up. Once the water has dissipated, I turn the knob and another stream of water comes out of the faucet. I begin to clean the sink of left over hair and remnants of shaving cream. Once done, I shut the faucet off and dry my hands on my towel and look at myself in the mirror.
“If you think you can just walk into the Tokyo Dome and expect an easy match you’re going to be the first person eliminated in the match, and we both know you don’t want to be stuck with a Prodigy championship title shot now do you?
I shake my head no as I ask myself as I grab the towel from around my neck and place it onto the sink counter.
“That’s what I thought.”
I tell myself as I continue to stare at my reflection.
“No disrespect to the other championships UTA has to offer, but you didn’t come to Tokyo, Japan to walk out with the consolation prize, you came here to wrestle in the prestigious and illustrious Tokyo Dome in front of fifty-five thousand screaming fans to walk out of the four way match as the number one contender to the world heavyweight championship.”
I say as I begin to pour after-shave into the palm of my hand before gently slapping it on my face. After a few moments the stinging effect of after-shave begins to take effect, and I begin to wince in pain.
“Is the pain to much? Does baby need a tissue?”
After a few moments the pain subsides and a sigh of relief is heard.
“If you think that little burning was painful it won’t be as painful if you don’t walk out victorious tonight.”
I say as a lean forward on the counter top and stare deep into my emerald colored eyes.
“What? Is that to much pressure for the big, bad Texan? What do you have to concern yourself with? I mean you aren’t going to win anyway. Hell, most people don’t even believe you wrestle for the company anymore, and you’re the new travel guide since that’s what you’ve been doing as of late. Is that what you want? To just be the “Vacation Aficionado?”
I shake my head no.
“Good, because it’s important to have fun and be entertaining, but you don’t want that to overshadow what you want to accomplish, and that is only what you’re known for because we both know you survived embarrassment long enough, and you’ve finally clawed your way out of the abyss and back to relevancy again.
This is the most important match in your UTA career, and I’m not just saying this because it is. This isn’t like the Ring King tournament where you had to beat three opponents to earn at shot at the world title and have an opportunity to face the other champions in title matches because you are guaranteed a title shot at four championships, and it’s not going to be an easy task to try and get the one we all know you have your eyes on.
To earn a shot at the top prize UTA has to offer you have to face three opponents who are uniquely different to one another as they are to you, and that presents a difficult challenge leading into the match.
Take Quinlan, for example, the man formerly known as Sanctus put up an impressive winning streak when he busted onto the scene, but lately, he’s been struggling to recapture the same success before he got rid of the mask. Some say he lost his mojo when he unmasked just like Samson lost his strength when his hair was cut, but does that mean he isn’t a threat? Absolutely not.
Just because Quinlan has struggled as of late doesn’t mean he cannot pull out a victory at any given moment because the kid is hungry and he’s do for a victory anytime. He can beat you in in a multitude of ways from suplexes to his mixed martial arts training. The matches you’ve scouted of him show he’s good from the clinch where he can employ his striking and submission based attacks so you need to get him down to the ground as quickly as possibly because he struggles off of his back.”
I hear a bird chirp and a loud vibration coming from the other room and I ignore it.
“Say you survive long enough, and Quinlan is eliminated first and he gets the Prodigy title shot instead of you, you still have two other opponents standing in your way from the one title opportunity that you want, and one of those people is Zhalia Fears, the first ever Prodigy champion.
She calls herself the Kimera, and when you think of it why would anyone want to compare themselves to such an ugly creature because if you remember Greek lore the Kimera consists of various bits of lion, goat, and serpent while having the ability to breathe fire. She does so for good reason because she has the speed and quickness of the goat, the heart and courage of the lion, and the cunning of the snake. Her “fire breathing” comes from the fire that burns inside of her to be one of the absolute best in UTA, and the never say die mentality that drove her to become the first Prodigy champion, and the same mentality that allowed her to defeat the sick and sadistic Crimson Lord as well.
Her Kimera moniker not only is used to describe her physical and mental characteristics or traits, but it also applies to her style of wrestling as she is a hybrid of high flying and submission based wrestling.
So the best way to defeat her is to let her make a mistake, and trust me she will. With all that flippy shit she does it’s only a matter of when she crashes and burns in the match that will allow her to be eliminated at take the Wildfire championship shot.”
I nod in agreement with my reflection as the bird chirp is heard once again, but it continues to be ignored.
“Two down and one to go, and the last person that’s standing in your way of world title aspirations is none other than the man known as Perfection. With a name like that you know he is not only cocky, arrogant, but he can back it up in the ring because he has. Perfection has been one of the cornerstones of Wrestle UTA since James Wingate resurrected it from the dead and he has been one of the most dominate figures in this era of UTA.
The man helped found the longest running, and dominant factions in the company’s history with Dynasty. He’s a champion of varying degrees has he’s held the wildfire, the tag, but most importantly, the world championship not once, but twice. That’s an accomplishment only one other person can claim. Perfection has proven his dominance inside the ring as he dissects you piece by piece. The wrestling ring is his operating table and he carefully takes his time to break you mentally and physically before it’s time to take you around back and put you out of your misery.
As good as Perfection has been in UTA, that is also his greatness weakness. The man has been on top for so long that he’s become overconfident to the point that he undervalues his opponents. He would rather toy with them instead of putting them away. He’s basically already deemed himself the victor of the match at International Affair because he’s Perfection. He believes it’s an insult to him that he has to compete in the ring with a bunch of undeserving wrestlers. He doesn’t take anyone of us seriously, he scoffed at and belittled the success I’ve accomplished in HOW because no one outside of him can compare to his success and wrestling ability.
He can say all he wants because he’s Perfection, and he’s earned the right to say whatever he feels like, and I hope he does. I hope he psyches himself up to the point that he salivates every time he sees an image of the world championship that he says it’s his destiny to possess because it’ll be even more gratifying when the ungrateful Scott Stevens is the one that prevents his Manifest Destiny from coming to fruition.
I hope he enjoys being the runner up.”
The bird chirp and a loud vibration coming from the other room is heard once again, and I look over to my clothes folded on the chair and my iPhone 6, that sits on top, lights up. I walk over and notice I have multiple messages that all say the same thing……
Your taxi is here.
I turn and exit the bathroom and enter the bedroom. I walk over a corner of the room and pick up a black suitcase with navy trim. I place the case onto the bed and unzip it. I pull from the suitcase some grey boxer-brief underwear. I drop the towel and put on the underwear by Nike. I reach back into the suitcase and pullout a pair of blue jeans and slide them on as well. I reach once more into the bag and pull out a folded dress shirt. I unfold the shirt and hold it out in front of me. The shirt is a charcoal grey button up that I wrap around my heavily scarred and tatted body before taking a seat and putting on my socks and shoes.
Once done, I stand up off of the bed and place my phone into my pocket. I gather all my belongings from the bathroom and from on top of the dresser and toss them all into my suitcase. I zip up the bag and place it onto the floor. I pull the handle up and begin to make my way towards the door when I take one last look into the mirror.
I say to myself as the final image seen is the closure of the wooden door.
"“You’re all a bunch of pretty, pretty princesses! Now can we please stop squabbling like hens in the coop and get back to the business at hand?”"
- Eric Dane