Wevv Mang watches the city of Sydney roll past him through the tinted windows of his limo. Mr. Wang sits across from him, but Wevv is lost in his own thoughts. The echoing remnants of a distant memory.
A dark room, powerful men in shadows, the glowing lights on computer screens, the rush of absolute triumph, the heady feeling of complete success and god like power. The man with the ice pick eyes, and the cheap suit, with his steely gaze locked on himself, and the gravely tone of his voice, asking one question.
Ten years later and Wevv can still feel the same turbulence of emotion that he felt in that instant. He had done it. It was all his. And here was this grubby bureaucrat, this glorified desk jockey, making demands of him. Never mind the fact that he had already agreed to make the transfer. Never mind the fact that if he hesitated, he would not leave that room alive. Maybe not even get a chance to get three steps towards the door. No, but dammit, give a guy a chance to relish the moment. No sense of style. That is what irks him the most, after ten years. After all, he really wanted to own his own island, and well, at that precise moment, he had one. And it was a beaut. He would never be able to hold it, even if the men in the room were not there, armed and nervous, but still. He had it.
So, he did what he said he would do. He turned it over to them, and the world exhaled. Of course, he made sure that they lived up to their end of the bargain. Trust can only go so far, frat brother or no.
Wevv: ..and the sons of a bitches treated me like a lackey, just “Thank you very much Wevv, we’d thank you very much if you never set foot again in these parts of the world. Don't let the door hit you on the ass on the way out”. Cocksuckers.
Mr. Wang looks quizzically at his long time friend.
Wevv: Sorry, Kenzo, just reliving some old memories that Chinese place we passed brought on. With the anniversary coming up, it’s hard to relive those times, eh? My greatest triumph and my biggest and hardest lesson in how the world really works. But that’s the past, for now, I must concentrate upon my future. A future in which I will once again be a champion.
Wevv chuckles, and Mr. Wang smiles back at him. But soon enough, Wevv turns back to the window, and his smile fades.
The limo pulls into the private parking area at the arena, and Mr. Wang gets out and holds the door for Wevv. Madison pops out of the driver’s side door.
Wevv listens to the faint calls of the fans, cheering the arrival of they know not who, but knowing it was some one they had paid to see that night.
Wevv: Well, Kenzo, it just a matter of hours, a new reign of champions will begin.
Madison: Good luck tonight Wevv!
Wevv: my dear, luck will have nothing to do with it. It’s all about drive, heart and God given talent. How can I loose?
Madison: Good point. Does your partner know that?
Wevv: Hm. Touché’. He does seem to have taken a, shall we say, turn for the psychotic?
Madison: You could say that. But I’m sure you can plan your way around that.
Wevv: Speaking of Plans…
Madison: I know, I know. I have a job to do. I know what to do Wevv. You can count on me. I’ll tell you what. Let’s make a wager. You win tonight, and I pull off my job without a hitch, and we can celebrate. Deal?
Wevv looks at the strangely cheerful face of Madison.
Wevv: Let’s both do what we set out to do, and we’ll see. Would you wait here for a moment?
Madison forces a laugh, and grins.
Madison: Like the Aussies say, Wevv, no worries.
Madison smiles again, and gets back in the car. Once the door slams, Wevv puts an arm around Mr. Wang’s shoulder, and speaks quietly to him as they head for the security entrance.
Wevv: Kenzo, I’m worried about Madison. I think the pressure is getting to her. I’d like you to keep an eye on her for a while. Calm her down, and get her head straight. She’s not used to operating at this level. It’s easy to forget she’s still inexperienced. Just…give her some pointers, advice, something. Show her some support. We’re too deep, and still have a long way to go. I’ll be fine until you get back.
Mr. Wang nods, as Wevv speaks. Once they reach the door, the two turn to face each other, and Mr. Wang bows.
Wevv: Thank you Kenzo. AH! My good men! Wevv Mang! Your next Tag Team Champion. I believe I’m on the list? Splendid! I was afraid for a moment that I had been banned from the building, and no one told me.
After a short talk with Norwegian Beast, rehashing old times, and joking, Wevv makes his way to the general population locker room. On his way there, he’s stopped.
Roscoe McQueen: Wevv! Hey Wevv! You're scheduled for an interview for LPW.com.
Wevv: I Am?
Roscoe: Yes, you are. OK guys, let’s make this quick. In 5! 4! 3!
Roscoe counts down the rest on his fingers, as Wevv looks on, shifting his gym bag from hand to hand.
Roscoe:….Hello everyone! Roscoe McQueen here, for LPW.com! I’m here with Wevv Mang, who tonight will team up with Sockoman to face the new crowned Tag Team Champions, Tromboner Man and Rato, the MWA! Wevv, your thoughts?
Wevv: Maybe I should have kept Mr. Wang here with me. Have you learned nothing Roscoe?
Roscoe: I think it’s a good question. But fine, what are you planning for tonight’s match? Do you really think you and Socko can take the MWA?
Wevv: Shotgun approach. Very well then. In order. I think you're looking at a Tag Team Champion. My plans are simple. Win. Tromboner…is that really his name? It is? (Wevv shakes his head). These kids today. Anyway. Tromboner, stop giggling Roscoe. That’s most unprofessional of you. TBM then. TBM and Rato are lunatics, plain and simple. But, armed with a lunatic of my own, courtesy of my former friend Robert Lillehammer, in the form of Socko-
Roscoe: Excuse me Wevv. Did you say former friend?
Wevv: yes, very observant, Boscoe. I did indeed say former friend. Sockoman is a lunatic as well. Only more dangerous. Did you see what he did last week?!? Good GOD man! Meathooks! Oh, thank you Robert for giving me a psychopath to team with. I’ll be lucky to leave the ring alive with my belt! Convention my ass! You know what that convention is? Robert and his wife Alice are currently at a nudist colony in California. That’s right. A nudist colony. He’s probably smoking weed and singing along with his wife as she plays Cumbaya on an acoustic guitar, naked as the day they were born. I can see you're in shock. But it’s the truth. Robert Lillehammer and Alice, or as they were known a few years ago, as Groovy Gravy and Sweet Pea were dirty hippies, selling weed out of their Winnebago for money to buy soy beans so they could make their own tofu. Which was laced with acid I might add.
Wevv: That’s right Robert, the truth is finally out there. But never fear. Where Robert failed to adequately use a man of such unique talents, I will succeed. You see Boscoe, I am going to be the only sane man in that ring. No matter what madness that pervert Rato may try to confuse me with, I will counter it with rational, intelligent thought. When Tromboner, stop giggling Boscoe! It’s not like you haven't heard that name before!
Roscoe: It’s just that when you say it, it sounds…funny. Maybe if you stopped emphasizing the last part of his name –
Wevv: Oh do grow up. As I was saying, when TBM - , there, happy?
Roscoe: Not really, I’d rather hear you say Tromboner Man –
Wevv: Shut up. As I was saying when TBM tries to dazzle us with some style that has no rational basis, I will lay down the laws of reality. That reality being that I am a Champion. And if that fails, I will simply unleash Socko on them. Socko wants to be a champion. And all he has to do is simply…show up.
Roscoe: Is there any weaknesses you would like to point out in the dynamic and exiting team of Rato and Tromboner man, and please, go into details about the (snort) members of said team.
Wevv stares at Roscoe, who is trying not to smirk. Wevv is not smiling back. Roscoe grows serious rather quickly. He coughs, and politely holds out the microphone for Wevv to speak into. Wevv slowly reaches up and takes the mic from Roscoe’s hand. He then roughly places his gym bag in Roscoe’s chest. He switches hands with the microphone and with his now free hand, places an arm around Roscoe’s shoulder, and pulls him in tight.
Wevv: Ah, Bosco. The time for fun and games is over. I know what you want to ask me. And it’s not lame penis jokes. It’s about Random isn't it, eh my friend? Indeed. It’s been about Random from the start.
Wevv crushes Roscoe, and grins a megawatt grin into the camera.
Wevv: Fuck me, eh? Fuck my plan? You STUPID IDIOT BASTARD! Fuck my plan?!? FUCK MY PLAN?!? My PLAN called for GOLD! And now look! Here I am, about to become a champion and where are you eh? Not going for a title, that’s where! You egocentric son of a bitch! I’m going to be a champion! Sockoman is going to be a champion! And do you know why? Because HE wants to be a champion! Come now, you mean to tell me that you and I couldn't take a couple of half wits, who haven't got the intelligence of canned fruit between them? OF COURSE WE COULD! But no! You want to go your own way! You want to be a star! Well, fuck you I say! GO it alone! You son of a bitch! When you see MY picture, with Socko photoshopped in, it will be with Tag Team gold around our waist! And I know that will kill you. Because it could have easily been you!
Wevv thrusts the microphone back into Roscoe’s chest, grabs his gym bag and stalks off, muttering. Roscoe catches his brief, stunned at the violent outburst. He looks up at the camera, and smoothes his hair back.
Roscoe: Roscoe McQueen, still here, barely, after hearing the harsh words of Wevv –
Wevv comes back into camera, and grabs Roscoe by the collar. He pulls him in close and is yelling in his face.
Wevv: Who does that douchebag think he is?? HUH?!?! HE cast me aside like some two bit punk! I’M WEVV FREAKING MANG! YOUR NEXT TAG TEAM CHAMPION GOD DAMN IT! That worthless pudknocker!
Wevv, still holding Roscoe turns and yells into the camera.
Wevv: THAT’S RIGHT RANDOM! I’M GOING TO BE A CHAMPION WITHOUT YOU! Alone! HA! What a bunch of rubbish! Alone! You never work alone! I know you're working with some one! And by god I’ll find out who! Oh, I didn't send you flowers in the hospital! Boo fucking hoo! You know where I was? TAKING CONTROL OF THE GOD DAMNED COMPANY! ME! I eliminated ALL of those fucks!! LOOK AROUND YOU NITWIT! Do you see ol’ what’s his face on Pyro? NO! No sign of that mildly-retarded Wevv wannabe here! And that pip squeak half pint tyrant! GONE! Out with the trash, and only for HALF! HA! HA! THE COST! And as for that other one, that devious, scum sucking, backstabbing rotten, EVIL, no good worthless rat bastard son of a bitch, ratings GRABBING MAN-WHORE…(Wevv, his face beet red, and veins popping out on his forehead and neck with unbridled rage, pauses to take a deep breath, and his eyes narrow, and his jaw snaps shut, teeth clenched and he starts to hiss a name and his grip starts to tighten and strangle Roscoe) vvvvviiiii-----( Wevv suddenly freezes, a look of sudden and shocking revelation coming over his face) -!-!-!-!-!-! Noooooooo……… It couldn't be…..He’s gone…No one has seen him, but no….I’d know…..I’d know….
Roscoe had turned bright red, and is struggling to breath. Wevv releases him and Roscoe crumbles to the ground. Wevv slowly relaxes. He wipes his mouth, and adjusts his suit and tie. He then looks over at the cameraman. He gestures to come closer. The camera shakes back and forth. Wevv eyes glitter like hard diamonds and promise an eternity of pain if his simple request is not met. Still, the cameraman is frozen in sudden terror. Wevv takes a step forward and pulls the camera closer by hand. His voice is low and controlled, but the fury and hatred of his wrath bubbles through.
Wevv: Random, listen to me carefully. I am going to that ring tonight and leave a champion. It could have been you, but you have made your own decision, and now you must pay for it. I promise you, if I find out that you are working for that son of a bitch, I will destroy you utterly. The fury of Hell? Damn straight. Wevv sold it to them. And is willing to give you a free sample.
He pushes the cameramen away, and turns to stalk into the dressing room. He slams the door shut behind him. Roscoe slowly gets to his feet, and gasps for breath. Mustering his courage and will to be a professional, Roscoe picks up the mic and starts to speak.
Roscoe: This..(cough!) is Roscoe (cough) McQueen. Ladies and gentleman, Wevv Mang –
The door to the locker room explodes outwards and two men flies out, and land in a crumpled heap. Wevv leans out and yells at them.
Wevv: GET OUT YOU DAMN SCRUBS! THIS NOW THE TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS LOCKER ROOM! WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT?!?!
Roscoe and the cameraman run off.
Wevv glares after them, and slams the door shut.