Post by Steve Sinclair on Mar 26, 2019 21:54:45 GMT
Present Day…….
Nanook opens the door and holds it open for Mastodon to walk into his office/apartment. As Mastodon walks into the room he can’t help but notice the bed that isn’t made and a pile of dirty clothes and that the room smells of old pizza and stale beer.
“This is your office Bro?” Mastodon says as he places his hands on his hips and looks around. He thinks about where he is living at the moment, in the basement of his grandma’s house which is coming in handy cuz he just has to do yard work and help fix this and that around the house in lieu of rent. Although he picks up the electric bill.
“Yeah…” Nanook says a little embarrassed. “Wife kicked me out and she’s cleaning me out.”
“I get that, but still.” slips out of Mastodon’s mouth.
“Here. Have a seat.” Nanook says as this old card table he bought at a church rummage sale. He swats empty beer cans out of the way and onto the floor. Then on a dresser with a small cheap flat screen on it, a LCD model Nanook picks up a small box from ebay and a file folder that was on top of it. Mastodon sits down and deep down inside, he’s already regretting this.
“Listen.” Nanook says. “As you can see, I’ve got some money issues. But this wasn’t always the case. Until just a couple of months ago, I had money. Tons of it. Hot wife at home, big mansion of a home, couple of them. Yacht, cars, you name it, I had it. I deal in real estate and representing guys like you not only get started in this sport, but quickly find a place that works for them, and get them in the big money fights. Google me when you get home, look at my track record. The guys I signed, they won titles, they made names for themselves and they got paid. I know what the fuck I’m doing. Fucking everything Joe Jones has is thanks to me. I got Bester in this sport. He was just another washed out ex football player when I found him. Now I’ll be real with you. I fucked some guys over in the past, for good reason. Guys that was family, brothers. I went to bat for this one guy, I had his back and when push come to shove, he didn’t have mine. I don’t forget shit like that. I felt they were holding out on me and I picked my spot and tore those fuckers down. I stabbed them in the back and I didn’t even think twice about it. I cashed in on their misfortune and watched as their worlds that I help create fell apart around them.”
“You know this doesn’t make me trust you one ounce right?”
Nanook places his items on the table and takes a seat. He leans towards Mastodon.
“You shouldn’t trust me. I’m a asshole. You better question me. It’s in your best interest to keep me honest. Just remember that Mastodon. I’m going to use you to get ahead and if your smart, you’d do the same. You want to get on TV yeah?”
“Yeah Bro.”
“Get on those pay per views?”
“Yeah.”
“Get paid and win titles? Make a name for yourself?”
“Sure Bro.”
“Yeah well, clearly you don’t have the skills to make that happen. You can’t play the politics of professional wrestling or else you’d already be on TV. I mean, look at you. A fucking monster of man such as yourself, what promoter wouldn't bring you in just to throw people around that god damn ring? Line up 2 or 3 duds, let you steam roll over them. The paying public love to watch car wrecks big guy! They love to see this monster, this freak of nature just wreck people! You can make money on that shit! Good money!” Nanook says as he jabs his meaty finger into the card table.
“So why ain’t it happening to you?”
Mastodon can’t answer that question.
“OCWTV. You punted that midget around that ring in like ten seconds flat. Remember that?”
Mastodon nods.
“That crowd made a lot of noise didn’t they?”
Again, Mastodon nods.
“Let’s make that happen on Massacre.”
Mastodon thinks about it for a second or two. He leans back in the chair.
“So what’s the plan?”
Nanook smirks. He takes the file folder and tosses it on the table in front of Mastodon.
“I know I just told you to not trust me, but you’ve got to trust me on this. I’ve got a idea. You heard of Bester yeah?” Nanook says as he stands up and walks over to the mini fridge and opens the door.
“The window licker?”
Pulling out 2 beers Nanook chuckles. “Yeah the window licker. The thing is, that window licker is a fucking gold mine in merch. You slap his goofy smile on shit and the kiddies eat it up.”
“But that guy is hardly in the ring nowadays.”
“He doesn’t have to be in the ring every week like some of these nob hobbers like PerZag. He’s done what that no talent hack couldn’t do even with my help. He made himself a attraction in this sport. He’s special. The kids want to see him even though they don’t like him right now, they still want to see him. Those kids parents, they want to see Bester because they know when push comes to shove, he’s just going to run through someone and it’s going to be a car wreck. Ain’t no one on the roster in OCW has that, OR! Can do that. He doesn’t has to wrestle every week.”
Nanook hands Mastodon a beer and sits back down.
“But here’s the thing. You can only have 1 freaky special attraction and Welsh knows this. You’re not needed because he has Bester. He’s still selling merch. Look at his numbers. One match a month and he #2 at the merch tables. Fucking Meyhu is out there a couple of times a month, killing himself putting on these 5 star matches, getting all of the flash bulbs, probably getting all the pussy too, busting his back in these 30 minute marathon matches to just barely outsell Bester who spends, like 5 minutes in the ring.”
Mastodon slowly flips open the file folder. Inside is the P&L numbers and Nanook has highlighted the merch numbers, who sold what, how much and what the company gets and what the talent gets, all broken down per person. Mastodon glances at it and looks at Nanook, somewhat puzzled.
“You’re losing me? What does this got to do with me getting where I want to be? Do I like, have to beat Bester or something Bro?”
Nanook shakes his head no.
“Nope. You just need to make him, useless.”
“Like? Beating his ass down then?”
“If my plan works. You’ll never have to lay a finger on him.” Nanook says as he takes the box and pushes it towards Mastodon. Mastodon looks at it and looks at Nanook who is having a beer. Mastodon closes the file folder and opens the box. Inside he find a white mask. He holds it up and looks at Nanook confused. Not a clue.
Nanook smirks. “Bester wasn’t always Bester. He used to be OGDA.”
Mastodon looks at the mask again. “I’ve heard of that name.”
“The superhero of the OCW. The children’s champion. That my friend, is his mask. The actual mask that every kid who comes to the show wishes Bester still wore. They want OGDA more than they want Bester. You don’t have to beat Bester. You just replace Bester. It’s that simple.”
Mastodon looks at the mask and at Nanook. “I don’t get it. How do I replace him?”
Nanook sets the beer down on the table and leans forwards.
“In OGDA mythos, that mask has magical powers and the mask only works on those with a pure heart, who only has goodness in their souls. A person who is willingly to fight for god’s children, to teach them right from wrong, to keep them safe and be their savior. A person who will risk it all to battle the evil forces in the world for them! You show them that you are this person, and you Mastodon, put that mask on and you get all of those super human powers and become OGDA and just like that, you’re on TV and we’re going to the bank.”
Mastodon looks at the mask again and at Nanook. “For real?”
“Look! It’s in the comic books! The story of OGDA! Fucking OCW sold tons of them! Here…” Nanook says as he gets up and walks back to his dresser. He slides the top draw open and reaches in side and pulls out a stack of comics and tosses them towards Mastodon.
“Fucking read them, learn them. Know that shit by heart. Know it forwards and backwards and when you do, I’ll talk to Welsh, we’ll make something happen and put on some kiddie story and crown you the new OGDA.”
“So…..I’ve got to wrestle with a fucking mask on?” Mastodon says.
“Well…..Yeah? Kinda doesn’t work without the mask.”
Mastodon puts the mask down and crosses his arms.
“I don’t know. I’ve got to think about this you know Bro.”
“Sleep on it. Take your time and when you’re ready to be on TV, kicking ass in the main event on Massacre, you come find me. Okay?”
Mastodon gathers the comic books and stands up. He looks down at Nanook and nods before leaving to sleep on this.
Fade out.
Nanook opens the door and holds it open for Mastodon to walk into his office/apartment. As Mastodon walks into the room he can’t help but notice the bed that isn’t made and a pile of dirty clothes and that the room smells of old pizza and stale beer.
“This is your office Bro?” Mastodon says as he places his hands on his hips and looks around. He thinks about where he is living at the moment, in the basement of his grandma’s house which is coming in handy cuz he just has to do yard work and help fix this and that around the house in lieu of rent. Although he picks up the electric bill.
“Yeah…” Nanook says a little embarrassed. “Wife kicked me out and she’s cleaning me out.”
“I get that, but still.” slips out of Mastodon’s mouth.
“Here. Have a seat.” Nanook says as this old card table he bought at a church rummage sale. He swats empty beer cans out of the way and onto the floor. Then on a dresser with a small cheap flat screen on it, a LCD model Nanook picks up a small box from ebay and a file folder that was on top of it. Mastodon sits down and deep down inside, he’s already regretting this.
“Listen.” Nanook says. “As you can see, I’ve got some money issues. But this wasn’t always the case. Until just a couple of months ago, I had money. Tons of it. Hot wife at home, big mansion of a home, couple of them. Yacht, cars, you name it, I had it. I deal in real estate and representing guys like you not only get started in this sport, but quickly find a place that works for them, and get them in the big money fights. Google me when you get home, look at my track record. The guys I signed, they won titles, they made names for themselves and they got paid. I know what the fuck I’m doing. Fucking everything Joe Jones has is thanks to me. I got Bester in this sport. He was just another washed out ex football player when I found him. Now I’ll be real with you. I fucked some guys over in the past, for good reason. Guys that was family, brothers. I went to bat for this one guy, I had his back and when push come to shove, he didn’t have mine. I don’t forget shit like that. I felt they were holding out on me and I picked my spot and tore those fuckers down. I stabbed them in the back and I didn’t even think twice about it. I cashed in on their misfortune and watched as their worlds that I help create fell apart around them.”
“You know this doesn’t make me trust you one ounce right?”
Nanook places his items on the table and takes a seat. He leans towards Mastodon.
“You shouldn’t trust me. I’m a asshole. You better question me. It’s in your best interest to keep me honest. Just remember that Mastodon. I’m going to use you to get ahead and if your smart, you’d do the same. You want to get on TV yeah?”
“Yeah Bro.”
“Get on those pay per views?”
“Yeah.”
“Get paid and win titles? Make a name for yourself?”
“Sure Bro.”
“Yeah well, clearly you don’t have the skills to make that happen. You can’t play the politics of professional wrestling or else you’d already be on TV. I mean, look at you. A fucking monster of man such as yourself, what promoter wouldn't bring you in just to throw people around that god damn ring? Line up 2 or 3 duds, let you steam roll over them. The paying public love to watch car wrecks big guy! They love to see this monster, this freak of nature just wreck people! You can make money on that shit! Good money!” Nanook says as he jabs his meaty finger into the card table.
“So why ain’t it happening to you?”
Mastodon can’t answer that question.
“OCWTV. You punted that midget around that ring in like ten seconds flat. Remember that?”
Mastodon nods.
“That crowd made a lot of noise didn’t they?”
Again, Mastodon nods.
“Let’s make that happen on Massacre.”
Mastodon thinks about it for a second or two. He leans back in the chair.
“So what’s the plan?”
Nanook smirks. He takes the file folder and tosses it on the table in front of Mastodon.
“I know I just told you to not trust me, but you’ve got to trust me on this. I’ve got a idea. You heard of Bester yeah?” Nanook says as he stands up and walks over to the mini fridge and opens the door.
“The window licker?”
Pulling out 2 beers Nanook chuckles. “Yeah the window licker. The thing is, that window licker is a fucking gold mine in merch. You slap his goofy smile on shit and the kiddies eat it up.”
“But that guy is hardly in the ring nowadays.”
“He doesn’t have to be in the ring every week like some of these nob hobbers like PerZag. He’s done what that no talent hack couldn’t do even with my help. He made himself a attraction in this sport. He’s special. The kids want to see him even though they don’t like him right now, they still want to see him. Those kids parents, they want to see Bester because they know when push comes to shove, he’s just going to run through someone and it’s going to be a car wreck. Ain’t no one on the roster in OCW has that, OR! Can do that. He doesn’t has to wrestle every week.”
Nanook hands Mastodon a beer and sits back down.
“But here’s the thing. You can only have 1 freaky special attraction and Welsh knows this. You’re not needed because he has Bester. He’s still selling merch. Look at his numbers. One match a month and he #2 at the merch tables. Fucking Meyhu is out there a couple of times a month, killing himself putting on these 5 star matches, getting all of the flash bulbs, probably getting all the pussy too, busting his back in these 30 minute marathon matches to just barely outsell Bester who spends, like 5 minutes in the ring.”
Mastodon slowly flips open the file folder. Inside is the P&L numbers and Nanook has highlighted the merch numbers, who sold what, how much and what the company gets and what the talent gets, all broken down per person. Mastodon glances at it and looks at Nanook, somewhat puzzled.
“You’re losing me? What does this got to do with me getting where I want to be? Do I like, have to beat Bester or something Bro?”
Nanook shakes his head no.
“Nope. You just need to make him, useless.”
“Like? Beating his ass down then?”
“If my plan works. You’ll never have to lay a finger on him.” Nanook says as he takes the box and pushes it towards Mastodon. Mastodon looks at it and looks at Nanook who is having a beer. Mastodon closes the file folder and opens the box. Inside he find a white mask. He holds it up and looks at Nanook confused. Not a clue.
Nanook smirks. “Bester wasn’t always Bester. He used to be OGDA.”
Mastodon looks at the mask again. “I’ve heard of that name.”
“The superhero of the OCW. The children’s champion. That my friend, is his mask. The actual mask that every kid who comes to the show wishes Bester still wore. They want OGDA more than they want Bester. You don’t have to beat Bester. You just replace Bester. It’s that simple.”
Mastodon looks at the mask and at Nanook. “I don’t get it. How do I replace him?”
Nanook sets the beer down on the table and leans forwards.
“In OGDA mythos, that mask has magical powers and the mask only works on those with a pure heart, who only has goodness in their souls. A person who is willingly to fight for god’s children, to teach them right from wrong, to keep them safe and be their savior. A person who will risk it all to battle the evil forces in the world for them! You show them that you are this person, and you Mastodon, put that mask on and you get all of those super human powers and become OGDA and just like that, you’re on TV and we’re going to the bank.”
Mastodon looks at the mask again and at Nanook. “For real?”
“Look! It’s in the comic books! The story of OGDA! Fucking OCW sold tons of them! Here…” Nanook says as he gets up and walks back to his dresser. He slides the top draw open and reaches in side and pulls out a stack of comics and tosses them towards Mastodon.
“Fucking read them, learn them. Know that shit by heart. Know it forwards and backwards and when you do, I’ll talk to Welsh, we’ll make something happen and put on some kiddie story and crown you the new OGDA.”
“So…..I’ve got to wrestle with a fucking mask on?” Mastodon says.
“Well…..Yeah? Kinda doesn’t work without the mask.”
Mastodon puts the mask down and crosses his arms.
“I don’t know. I’ve got to think about this you know Bro.”
“Sleep on it. Take your time and when you’re ready to be on TV, kicking ass in the main event on Massacre, you come find me. Okay?”
Mastodon gathers the comic books and stands up. He looks down at Nanook and nods before leaving to sleep on this.
Fade out.