HOME | DD

Description

  “Alright, men!” shouted Crush, demanding the attention of his fellow wrestlers. “You heard the boss! We’re gonna take a little break from beating on one another and save it up for the No Mercy, roster! I will expect everyone to be at the gym every day of the week, sticking to our strict diet! Absolutely no junk food!”

            Hogwash growled in offense. “Was that directed at me, Crush?”

            Crush snorted, rolling his eyes. “No. Should it have been?”

            Hogwash squealed. “WHY I OUTTA!!”

            “Take it easy, son,” gently spoke Walt in his deep raspy voice, placing a consoling hand on the shoulder of Hogwash. “We need to save that youthful energy for the tournament.”

            Crush gave Walt an appreciative nod, still draping the championship belt over his shoulder. He admired the aged walrus’s amazing ability to douse the flames of rivalry between wrestlers. Perhaps it was his elder status that Walt commanded the uncanny ability to not have a single enemy within the business. A mixture of both respect and understanding that Walt possessed no real threat to the golden belts at this late stage of his career.

            Hogwash waved Crush off before walking away. “Just cuz you’ve been able to hold onto that championship don’t mean you’ve got some kind of authority over us!”

            Crush smirked as Hogwash stomped out of the room, chuckling inside at the Hog’s overreaction.

            Upon having exited the office, Crush found himself still accompanied by Walt as he trekked through the hallway.

            Crush chuckled. “Gotta hand it to yah, Walt. You know how to calm the ham down.”

            “Hmm. . .” Walt hummed thoughtfully, instantly signaling to Crush that he was in for more of the ‘old man’s words of wisdom.’

            “Somethin’ on your mind?” Crush asked, wanting to cut to the chase.

            “Ohh, it’s nothin’. . .” spoke the walrus.

            “What did I do now, gramps . . .?” Crush teasingly pressed. While to outsiders, the use of ‘gramps’ may have been seen as an act of disrespect, Crush and Walt were on close enough terms, understanding one another’s humor and personality.

            Walt chuckled, smiling under his large walrus mustache. “Well, don’t get me wrong, son. You are a fine champion and a man I have grown to respect.”

            “Buut?” Crush asked raising a brow?”

            Walt sighed. “Let’s just say you still have a few things to learn about being a leader.”

            Crush awkwardly chuckled. “Ehh, you heard the ham, Walt. Just cuz I’m the champion, don’t make me some kind of leader. Except for the suits running this biz, wrestlers have no leaders. We’re lone wolves trying to knock each down to climb the ladder.”

            “Well, times are changing,’ son,” countered Walt, motioning with his hand for the golden AWF championship belt. “May I see that?”

            Crush shrugged as he curiously eyed Walt. “Ehh. Sure?”

            As the stubby hands of Walt gripped the championship, he held it in front of himself as though thoughtfully studying it.

            Crush smiled as he tried to imagine the memories and feelings of nostalgia which must have been rushing through the hall of famer’s 8 time champion. Although the shiny golden belt had gone through alterations over the years, it still had the same AWF letters in the front adorned by the symbolic crown. There was a time as a boy when Crush would have gone insane with excitement at the dream of someday having such a moment with a wrestler as legendary as Walt the Wrecker. While the walrus was still far from being the fit warrior he was in his younger years, he still had managed to retain two things most wrestlers lost at his age. Respect and longevity.

“Still just as heavy as I remember,” winked Walt. “Young man, this belt is what’s gonna unite your ring brothers.”

Crush snorted, cynically rolling his eyes. “Are you kidding, gramps? These ‘ring bros,’ as you call them are the same animals who would stab me in the back to get this hunk of gold away from me!”

“There was a time you would have as well,” Walt reminded.

Crush chuckled awkwardly remembering when he had cashed in his entitlement match contract won from a ‘ladder Wacker event on his former friend and tag team partner, Arson Ollie who was then Beach City Champion.

This had remained the most ‘questionable’ decision ever made by Crush splitting the fans at the time, with some of them characterizing him as a ‘wrestler villain,’ while others praised him as the ‘spunky kid’ not afraid to seize any opportunity to grab the gold. His first title reign while lasting only one week came to define much of his career.

Crush Rush sighed. “I’ll confess, gramps, that wasn’t my brightest moment. I should have listened to you back then when you warned me I was ‘jumping the gun.’ It was too early. . .”

“But look where that learning experience brought you now?” Walt answered with a smile. “Point is, AWF boys are bark cut from the same tree. Mister Jawson wouldn’t have hired any of you otherwise. If you weren’t, you’d be at that joke of a ‘wrestling organization, NMW.”

Crush grimaced at the mention of those three letters. “Well, that would have been sad, wouldn’t it?”

“There’s something wrong with those boys,” added Walt fidgeting with his large mustache. “Just a real bitterness and appetite for destruction.”

Crush shook his head. “Like the way they continue beating up their opponents when the match is over?”

“Mmmhmm. . .” Walt replied his eyes trailing off as he twirled his mustache. “And they go through so many fighters. That roster is a revolving door of whatever street hooligans and ex-convicts they can find. Not real athletes.”

Crush nodded. Yeah, it’s a short lived occupation for sure.”

Walt somberly nodded. “And to think that back in my day, you’d help your defeated opponent off the mat. We’d shake hands before and sometimes even after the matches. Times sure are changing. . .”

Crush nodded. “Yeah, isn’t that something.” Even AWF wrestling had long dropped the before handshake. Walt was indeed from a bygone era where even wrestlers were required to make such displays of respect before and after matches. By the time Crush had become a teenager, the tide had already begun to turn within the culture of AWF becoming edgier to keep up with new rival wrestling shows.

“Welp,” Walt replied waving off the conversation. “If there’s anything I’ve learned from this industry, it’s that outward threats bring inward solidarity.”

Walt sent Crush a friendly wink.

“Maybe this cross company rivalry is just what we need to unite this biz again.”

At this thought, Crush laughed as Walt proved once again to be the ‘forever idealist.’ “Ha, ha! I love yah, old man! But sometimes you say the funniest things.”

Crush immediately felt a sense of guilt as Walt furrowed his brow.

            Walt waved off the conversation, giving Crush a wink. “Hmm. . . Yes, I suppose it is. Well, there’s my locker room. Guess it’s goodnight Mister Crush.”

            Crush gave Walt a friendly smile. “Goodnight, old man.”

            As Walt walked on to his personal locker room, Crush gazed down at his championship, pondering the conversation. In the shiny gold plating, he could see his face staring back at him, through the AWF logo, giving him the appearance of being the one wearing the crown. At this Crush smirked, chuckling to himself again flinging the championship over his shoulder.
            “Who am I kidding . . .?”

Drawn by Bluepisces97

Thanks for reading!

War of the Wrestlers: The First War Part 9

War of the Wrestlers: The First War Part 1

Description

  “Alright, men!” shouted Crush, demanding the attention of his fellow wrestlers. “You heard the boss! We’re gonna take a little break from beating on one another and save it up for the No Mercy, roster! I will expect everyone to be at the gym every day of the week, sticking to our strict diet! Absolutely no junk food!”

            Hogwash growled in offense. “Was that directed at me, Crush?”

            Crush snorted, rolling his eyes. “No. Should it have been?”

            Hogwash squealed. “WHY I OUTTA!!”

            “Take it easy, son,” gently spoke Walt in his deep raspy voice, placing a consoling hand on the shoulder of Hogwash. “We need to save that youthful energy for the tournament.”

            Crush gave Walt an appreciative nod, still draping the championship belt over his shoulder. He admired the aged walrus’s amazing ability to douse the flames of rivalry between wrestlers. Perhaps it was his elder status that Walt commanded the uncanny ability to not have a single enemy within the business. A mixture of both respect and understanding that Walt possessed no real threat to the golden belts at this late stage of his career.

            Hogwash waved Crush off before walking away. “Just cuz you’ve been able to hold onto that championship don’t mean you’ve got some kind of authority over us!”

            Crush smirked as Hogwash stomped out of the room, chuckling inside at the Hog’s overreaction.

            Upon having exited the office, Crush found himself still accompanied by Walt as he trekked through the hallway.

            Crush chuckled. “Gotta hand it to yah, Walt. You know how to calm the ham down.”

            “Hmm. . .” Walt hummed thoughtfully, instantly signaling to Crush that he was in for more of the ‘old man’s words of wisdom.’

            “Somethin’ on your mind?” Crush asked, wanting to cut to the chase.

            “Ohh, it’s nothin’. . .” spoke the walrus.

            “What did I do now, gramps . . .?” Crush teasingly pressed. While to outsiders, the use of ‘gramps’ may have been seen as an act of disrespect, Crush and Walt were on close enough terms, understanding one another’s humor and personality.

            Walt chuckled, smiling under his large walrus mustache. “Well, don’t get me wrong, son. You are a fine champion and a man I have grown to respect.”

            “Buut?” Crush asked raising a brow?”

            Walt sighed. “Let’s just say you still have a few things to learn about being a leader.”

            Crush awkwardly chuckled. “Ehh, you heard the ham, Walt. Just cuz I’m the champion, don’t make me some kind of leader. Except for the suits running this biz, wrestlers have no leaders. We’re lone wolves trying to knock each down to climb the ladder.”

            “Well, times are changing,’ son,” countered Walt, motioning with his hand for the golden AWF championship belt. “May I see that?”

            Crush shrugged as he curiously eyed Walt. “Ehh. Sure?”

            As the stubby hands of Walt gripped the championship, he held it in front of himself as though thoughtfully studying it.

            Crush smiled as he tried to imagine the memories and feelings of nostalgia which must have been rushing through the hall of famer’s 8 time champion. Although the shiny golden belt had gone through alterations over the years, it still had the same AWF letters in the front adorned by the symbolic crown. There was a time as a boy when Crush would have gone insane with excitement at the dream of someday having such a moment with a wrestler as legendary as Walt the Wrecker. While the walrus was still far from being the fit warrior he was in his younger years, he still had managed to retain two things most wrestlers lost at his age. Respect and longevity.

“Still just as heavy as I remember,” winked Walt. “Young man, this belt is what’s gonna unite your ring brothers.”

Crush snorted, cynically rolling his eyes. “Are you kidding, gramps? These ‘ring bros,’ as you call them are the same animals who would stab me in the back to get this hunk of gold away from me!”

“There was a time you would have as well,” Walt reminded.

Crush chuckled awkwardly remembering when he had cashed in his entitlement match contract won from a ‘ladder Wacker event on his former friend and tag team partner, Arson Ollie who was then Beach City Champion.

This had remained the most ‘questionable’ decision ever made by Crush splitting the fans at the time, with some of them characterizing him as a ‘wrestler villain,’ while others praised him as the ‘spunky kid’ not afraid to seize any opportunity to grab the gold. His first title reign while lasting only one week came to define much of his career.

Crush Rush sighed. “I’ll confess, gramps, that wasn’t my brightest moment. I should have listened to you back then when you warned me I was ‘jumping the gun.’ It was too early. . .”

“But look where that learning experience brought you now?” Walt answered with a smile. “Point is, AWF boys are bark cut from the same tree. Mister Jawson wouldn’t have hired any of you otherwise. If you weren’t, you’d be at that joke of a ‘wrestling organization, NMW.”

Crush grimaced at the mention of those three letters. “Well, that would have been sad, wouldn’t it?”

“There’s something wrong with those boys,” added Walt fidgeting with his large mustache. “Just a real bitterness and appetite for destruction.”

Crush shook his head. “Like the way they continue beating up their opponents when the match is over?”

“Mmmhmm. . .” Walt replied his eyes trailing off as he twirled his mustache. “And they go through so many fighters. That roster is a revolving door of whatever street hooligans and ex-convicts they can find. Not real athletes.”

Crush nodded. Yeah, it’s a short lived occupation for sure.”

Walt somberly nodded. “And to think that back in my day, you’d help your defeated opponent off the mat. We’d shake hands before and sometimes even after the matches. Times sure are changing. . .”

Crush nodded. “Yeah, isn’t that something.” Even AWF wrestling had long dropped the before handshake. Walt was indeed from a bygone era where even wrestlers were required to make such displays of respect before and after matches. By the time Crush had become a teenager, the tide had already begun to turn within the culture of AWF becoming edgier to keep up with new rival wrestling shows.

“Welp,” Walt replied waving off the conversation. “If there’s anything I’ve learned from this industry, it’s that outward threats bring inward solidarity.”

Walt sent Crush a friendly wink.

“Maybe this cross company rivalry is just what we need to unite this biz again.”

At this thought, Crush laughed as Walt proved once again to be the ‘forever idealist.’ “Ha, ha! I love yah, old man! But sometimes you say the funniest things.”

Crush immediately felt a sense of guilt as Walt furrowed his brow.

            Walt waved off the conversation, giving Crush a wink. “Hmm. . . Yes, I suppose it is. Well, there’s my locker room. Guess it’s goodnight Mister Crush.”

            Crush gave Walt a friendly smile. “Goodnight, old man.”

            As Walt walked on to his personal locker room, Crush gazed down at his championship, pondering the conversation. In the shiny gold plating, he could see his face staring back at him, through the AWF logo, giving him the appearance of being the one wearing the crown. At this Crush smirked, chuckling to himself again flinging the championship over his shoulder.
            “Who am I kidding . . .?”

Drawn by Bluepisces97

Thanks for reading!

War of the Wrestlers: The First War Part 9

War of the Wrestlers: The First War Part 1