Todd Killings picks up the phone. They should have just texted him. The conversation goes on and on. He hangs up. That was for me, he says to himself. What did they want? He forgot already. This is the man of a single digit IQ we’re talking about here. The one celled organism. He thinks really hard and remembers what the call was about. His next match is going to be in Moulin Rouge. Who did they say I’m gunna wrestle against? Jimi Hendrix? Is that the guy I wrestled last week? Am I a wrestler? Todd Killings talks to himself a lot. That was in actuality yes the guy he already wrestled. That particular match notably had the most viewers in recent history. He thinks huh okay.
The wrestler puts on his coat and walks out the front door. He walks down the street. He goes, he’s going, he just looks at stuff. You always have to look at stuff. And he tries to think about stuff that he’s satisfied with as an acceptable thought. I’m gunna get me some party favors. Maybe I’ll even get me a prostitute. He makes it to Seven Eleven and walks inside. All of this can be had. As far as the eye can see, up to that wall at the back there. But what our main character wants is Munchos and a six pack of the tastiest cheapiest beer that will do him. Party mix no. He drinks alone. There’s the person behind the counter. Great someone he has to cooperate with now. How will he get himself out of this situation? Todd says hello, that’s something a person would say right? Todd Killings presents his driver’s license. On it it reads Todd Killings. No middle initial. He passes him the money he owes and steps outside again. Mission accomplished. Target destroyed. Let’s go back home.
Todd Killings is being interviewed at the IGC broadcast on TV.
“Yeah Intergalactic Wrestling we’re wrestling in space. But me I’m gunna direct this freaking ship into a black hole. All you dudes are gunna try to contact the station back home and all you'll get is static. No signal. Cause I don’t care. I’m not here to just be the champion. I’m here to freaking wrestle, man. I don’t need any shiny jewelry. Anybody can get a championship belt and think they now become some cool guy and say it to everyone. But nobody can be Todd Killings. And nobody can beat Todd Killings. I’m Todd Killings and this is what I say. All you people are going down. People are gunna talk about how I killed the whole IGC. This next guy I face and then the next one is gunna be faced. And listen all you people on the roster, I hate you all.”
Todd Killings hits the road. He needs to leave now if he’s gunna make it to Baton Rouge on time. He’s driving his old car it’s got no stereo in it someone stole it. The tank’s full of gas and he’s got his foot on the accelerator. The heat don’t work and Todd just thinks. How far is this Baton Rouge freaking place? He’s driving down the highway. It gets dark and there aren’t any cars on the road. Todd drinks like three big cups of coffee from the store where he stopped before and those pills truck drivers take to keep awake. He eats all this stuff really fast. We’re gunna reach our destination. A cop car pulls out behind after Todd and does this cool sliding turn to get on the road real fast. How could they pray to catch Todd when he’s in this crazy jacked up state from all that stuff he took? Todd just speeds on down the black pavement rock until the coast is clear.
An hour passes and Todd Killings is still driving. This long highway he’s on there are no cars around, not a solitary soul. He isn’t sleepy. Sign says: Next sign 30 miles. Todd pulls over to take a leak. Must be all that coffee. He’s at the side of the road and finishes his leak when all of the sudden he is blinded by some really bright lights. He looks up and sees an all black eighteen wheeler truck shining its high beams at him. What happened is it’s the devil himself and he challenged Todd to a wrestling match against him. They’re now standing in the open field by the road and a fiery ring in the tall grass surrounds Todd Killings and the devil. Todd says no go away you scary freaking thing. The devil tells him that Todd Killings your soul will be mine fuck you you jerk the devil is king baby! Todd says oh okay I wasn’t sure if it was you. They wrestle. Todd says come on dude I’ll wrestle you. He DDTs him onto a rock. The devil just lays there, by the rock. He gets back in his car and drives out of there. Was this whole thing just a big hallucination? He did take all those caffeine pills or whatever. He’s gunna beat Jesse Ramey.
The scene opens on a seedy motel in Atlanta, Georgia. We’re on the road to Baton Rouge, Louisiana. Inside of an even more dingy hotel room, on an AIDs riddled bed, sat Jesse Ramey; a shiny silver championship lying next to him.
“The life of a wrestler isn’t always glamorous,” Ramey began as he patted the bed he was resting on, “I’ve been in this business for a long time. I’ve seen a lot of things, and I’ve even had to deal with men just like you Todd.”
“You see,” Ramey continued, “we’ve got this guy just like you in All-Star Championship Wrestling. He goes by the name of The Amazing Gabriel; he’s a pill popper too. I’m guessing the pills the two of you are popping are totally different things though. He’s off snorting smack in some corner of an arena and you’re popping caffeine pills.”
“It’s actually a pretty good look into the life of a professional wrestler.” Ramey smiled, “You’re showing the world exactly what we have to deal with on a daily basis. We travel thousands of miles in a week; and not all of us have the luxury of being able to travel first class on a plane. Not even those of us who have been doing this the number of years I have.”
“Some of us just hide it a little better,” Ramey hung his head, “by exposing this nature about yourself Todd, you’re making the rest of us look bad. By the fact that you want to run around strung out of your skull, you make us all look like amateurs. This is not something I’m partial to, Todd.”
“I and so many others have worked hard to make this a respectable profession, Todd.” Ramey continued, “And here comes walking Todd Killings, exposing the deep dark secrets of our trade and for what? Your own enjoyment, because that’s the way it seems to me; you definitely don’t seem like you’ve got anything to contribute to this sport.”
“I’m from West Virginia, Todd, but to me you seem like the type that was raised in a barn near a power station sub generator and all of your toys were lined with lead based paints.” Ramey shook his head, “I know I say and do a lot of things in New Frontier Wrestling that are considered taboo. But the things you do are just below the standard of what I would expect from a person in our line of work.”
“You want to go on to say that in Baton Rouge you’re going to beat Jesse Ramey.” Jesse chuckled, “But the thing you need to realize is that you don’t even know who Jesse Ramey is Todd Killings. Jesse Ramey knows who you are though, and I would like to think I’ve made that very clear to this point. As far as Baton Rouge is concerned to me, Todd, you’re going to be a footnote on Jesse Ramey’s debut into the IGC.”
“I’m a forgiving man though,” Ramey continued, “you show up in Baton Rouge and you put up a fight I’m not beneath standing in the center of that ring and shaking your hand. Either way it goes though, when our fight is finished there is only going to be one tune playing and that tune is going to be sung by Brent Smith.”
“If you hadn’t figured it out yet, Brent Smith is the lead singer of Shinedown, Todd.” Ramey smiled, “And it just so happens to Shinedown sings my theme song. So, I guess the point I’m making to you right now is that in Baton Rouge I’m giving you the chance to earn my respect, but I know that the outcome is going to be the same no matter what.”
“I’m going to win my debut in IGC,” Ramey paused.
“I’m going to teach you a little something about respect, and give you a lesson in wrestling that only a veteran of this sport can do.” Ramey paused.
“And then Xoesh the Zith I’m coming after you.” Ramey smiled as he stood from the bed and grabbed his Spirit of ACW Championship. “I’ll be seeing you all in Baton Rouge.”
Here is a man that’s pretty hard to hold down and get to talk. We’re going to try to get him to be a little more vocal. Lets see what he has to say to all the IGC fans watching at home. Speak into the microphone Todd.
“Hey dudes. Killing time yet? Or lunch time?”
They ask him about his next match. Todd Killings picks his nose during the question.
“Yeah that Jesse Ramey guy I’m gunna wrestle him. All you folks out there are gunna get to see me I’m Todd Killings and get to see some good stuff. I’m just a funky guy but I’m also a good freaking wrestler. I got the moves and I kill these wrestlers. I win all the time. Everybody in this profession wants to beat the other guy and wear the belt that’s all they think about. It’s stupid they’re not even that good. These situations I constantly find myself in is funny. I’m not like all these other wrestlers in different colored underwear. I travel and beat them up. I creep out of the basement and come to this match. Todd Killings is down there. Jesse Ramey he’s a big star. I’m gunna beat this ol' boy. This is how I’m gunna do it. We’ll go down the hall, and get in the ring. And I’m gunna legdrop him. It’s gunna be cool.”
This is what he thinks about IGC and everyone in it.
“Everyone that wrestles here can say that they’re my friends. But they all stink. They’re boring as hell. They can't win a match. They would need like a steel chair, their tag team partner for help, and kick me in the groin. That’s not wrestling. I actually try to fight them in the ring. People always want to throw me out of the ring and fight there. Some people do it every match. You can’t do that every single match. And I hate those freaking metal steps. That stuff hurts man. Those stupid looking metal stairs. Makes me want to grab 'em and wrestle them on their head. I'm in the ring and I don't do stuff like that. I try not to look stupid as hell. I got some cool ideas man. I’m running out of stuff to say here. Basically I’m the best wrestler. And I don’t pop pills. I can quit any time I want. I just needed something to keep me awake. But I’m here now. Yeah I get f’d up sometimes.”
The IGC title screen comes on and they begin playing a promotional video.
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