Anthony: Just this one match…for Lance.
Yes, the man known as Glacier had arrived to an HCW event. He didn’t arrive this time just to watch from the skybox. This time he arrived to wrestle one match against Tyke Index, a serious contender for the HCW Championship. Glacier was planning on representing AWE to it’s fullest. He had been known as an AWE Icon and he was loyal to the brand but it didn’t mean he couldn’t do his old running mate, Lance Mikes, a favor. He was coming in to show these rookies what wrestling was all about. Then again, Tyke Index, sounded like a haggard old man so who knows? Anthony started the car, reversed, and drove off. He was ready to hit the hotel and get some rest. He had planned to catch his sleep on the plane but those bastard ass children continued to scream and yell while their as equally useless parents stood by watching. Made him sick. He, himself, is a father of two young boys and he has good control over them.
He wasn’t a tyrant, at all. He was just a good father, he disciplined his children when they got out of line and taught them valuable life lessons. The only difference between him and other good fathers was the fact he spent most of his time on the road. Wrestling is Anthony’s bread and butter, also something he loved. To tell you the truth, he couldn’t see himself in any other profession. Like a good father, Anthony was going to teach Tyke Index the value of time…and not to waste it ranting and making incoherent thoughts to portray himself as a poet and a deep person when people could only see him as a lost cause. But that lesson would come later, as for now, Anthony headed into the hotel. The place looked pretty nice and it should be if it’s a four star hotel. He had searched at hotel.com for a decent one that wouldn’t kill his pocket. Then again he had signed so many multi-million dollar deals that Bill Gates couldn’t break his pocket.
Employee: Sir, can I help you?
Anthony: Yeah. I booked a hotel room here.
Employee: Name, please.
Anthony: Anthony Thomas.
Employee: All right. Sir, your room is down the hall…last door, on the left.
He handed him the hotel card and Anthony headed, with duffel bag and suitcase, down the hall. He inserted the card into the slot and opened the door. He went inside and looked around. It would have to do. Anthony placed the hotel card on the kitchen counter and put his luggage down. He flung himself on the couch and took out his cellular phone. He wanted to check if anyone sent him messages about his match. He knew he had to face Tyke and had already heard his promo while at the last AWE event in New York. He wanted to deal with this Tyke Index guy before heading back to Philadelphia to face his next AWE opponent. He turned on his phone and saw about two text messages. The first one was from HCW management, thanking him for being a good sport and participating in to an HCW event. The next one was from his brother, Mark, telling him to call once he landed in California. So that’s what he’ll do, he calls Mark.
Anthony: Bro, what’s up?
Mark: Hey man. Just checking on you to see how you’re doing. I know your going to be busy this week, just wanted to make sure your all right. Your not getting any younger, Anthony, I don’t want you to take years off your life with this traveling crap.
Anthony: Ha-ha, yeah I hear you man but don’t worry about me. Worry about this Raven wannabe, Tyke Index. He’s the one who you should be concerned about. I? I got it all under control.
Mark: All right, cool. Talk you later.
Anthony: Okay, later bro.
He pressed the end button and places the cell phone down on the glass table in front of the couch. Anthony places his hands behind his head as he lies out fully on the couch. All that can be heard is a large sigh. Possibly the seven years of wrestling have finally caught up to the twenty eight year old? Who knew what the case was but Anthony looked visibly stressed. His head was bruised from an earlier attack in AWE but that had cleared up. His leg, though, was another problem. It was still a bit swollen and you could have told from the bit of limping he did from the airport to the parking lot as well as from hotel desk to the room. Yet, as a veteran, he had to endure it. It was his life and big part of his life at that. He simply had to grudge on as he had always done. Yet as he stared at the ceiling intently with his blue eyes, he could only think of one thing. One thing alone ran though the course of his mind for the whole week.
Glacier: Just who in the hell hired this wannabe Abyss?
Well Anthony wasn’t the type to hold back his thoughts, even as harsh as that was. He continued.
Glacier: You know, this business has really gone to the dogs. The personification of every damn thing that is wrong with this business…this country…and this goddamn world is Tyke Index. I mean from the name all the way down to the attitude, this kid is nothing but crap. Britain is known for pride in its history as well as respectable people. Ireland is known for it’s great fighters and even better drinks. What is Scotland known for? Bagpipes and this disgraceful shit? Drinking, doing drugs, fighting recklessly out on the street…is that all suppose to be something that I’m suppose to fear? I don’t fear a punk. Punks drink. Punks do drugs. Punks fight like dogs. I’ve fought through emos, potheads, and every other group of people you can imagine. After seven years in the business, do you think some kid off the nice clean streets of Scotland attempting to act badass is going to stop me? Who the hell do I look like? Ronald McDonald?
Any man can go to jail; hell any man can kill if he puts his mind to it. It’s the man, who in the heat of rage, steps back and assess the situation is the man that is worth looking up to. Not the guy who goes crazy, kills someone, and cries self-defense. If this is what HCW has to offer me, then I should come down here and damn well take their title while I’m at it. I mean no disrespect, as Lance is my close buddy and leader of The Untouchables, but hiring this piece of shit was the biggest mistake he could have made. No one understands or truly cares about half the shit he says. He begins to talk about territories and countries like his name is Vladimir Putin. This is what you’re going to throw at me, Lance? Come on. I know there has to be better out here. I know, I know. HCW is just starting off and until good talent comes along, you’ll have to deal with him but man…I could find you better talent in the back alleys of New Jersey.
It was true. Glacier wasn’t lying one bit, he seen prostitutes with better charisma and strippers who could strike fear in the hearts of grown men…if they didn’t pay up. Glace brushed his hair back and shook his head in disbelief at Tyke Index. He was hoping for something that much better than him. Flying all the way from New York to California to scout Tyke but this is all he got. A gothic man with a strange philosophy on life? Anthony sighed and returned to speaking.
Glacier: This is a stain on the face of HCW. I’m not coming here to point, laugh, and degrade the integrity of it…but do I really even have to do that after seeing Tyke Index. Index? So what is he…suppose to be the Tyke of Contents? What the hell does Tyke even mean? This kid’s name as about as meaningful as his career. He fancies himself a machine but guess what, machines are meant to be broken…ripped apart…and left for absolutely nothing when they are as worthless as that. I know what your thinking Lance, you want me to make it a close fight. You want me to spare this kid and let him continue wrestling after it’s all said and done but guess what? It’s not about to happen for the simple fact…I would have to intentionally attempt to be horrible to make this even seem realistic. There are many things I’m good at but an intentional attempt to be horrible is not it. This kid is under some impression I’ll lose my mind if I lose to him. He’s right.
Lance, I know you’re a fan of the Undertaker but this is no excuse to add useless shit to an already rookie roster. You would have been better off making the Cookie Monster the HCW mascot. If Tyke, for one second, thinks I fear him and his lack of wrestling skills…then he has another thing coming. I can understand, he’s trying to play the monster role. He’s trying to have me scared shitless. For one second, it would have worked…if I haven’t seen his kind over the past seven years I’ve been in the ring. I suggest you pull Tyke aside and tell him to come up with a different strategy because I’m not easily scared. I’ve been rushed to hospitals while having a severe amount of bleeding, I’ve damaged limbs, and I’ll been pummeled to the ground on several occasions yet Tiny Tim over there is going to be the guy who makes me shit my pants? Come on Lance get with the program. You know the Iceman is ready to freeze HCW over for one night.
He smirked and turned on the television. He saw a recap of HCW Monday Night Hell. After watching Tyke somehow pin Shanel while she pinned him, he shook his head and laughed. He hadn’t seen anything so ridiculous since the birth of Shawn Ashlocke. He turned off the television and closed his eyes, quickly falling into slumber as scenes fade away to black.
