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All Fun and Games?
Topic Started: Jan 14 2011, 04:17 AM (82 Views)
Eddie_Rowan
Member Avatar
BOOSH

Sometimes confidence is every bit as important as skill. Regardless of what some people might think, sometimes luck is even more important still. Some people hold to the mantra of ‘luck is for losers,’ and whatnot, but that’s just bluster. That’s a belief that comes from being OVER confident. Overconfidence can be just as crippling as lack of skill. It’s funny how they go hand-in-hand, isn’t it? The point is, skill will help you get the job done, but it takes being in the right place at the right time to make it to the very top. Skill helped me pull off the three-count in Yokohama, but it was luck that I was the one who was able to take control after everyone else had killed each other. All of these hard-asses who want to decry the value of luck in any given situation can say what they want. I’m the guy with the belt right now, and I’m saying that I’m one lucky S.O.B.

-------------
Brilliant multi-colored light pulsates throughout the club, a prismatic blur illuminating the otherwise dark room. Several people, mostly local Japanese citizens, dance spastically as the excessively cheery Jap-pop music thumps throughout the room, their smiles lit up by the infectious rhythm. There are a few individuals who stand out from the crowd in this setting. Tonight, a small group of CZW staff and competitors have come out to partake of the festivities, some celebrating, and some just because. As one of the latter, Ryan Lewis has come to this club with one thing on his mind: sweet Asian honeys. Sadly, due to a very, very limited understanding of the Japanese language and a poor choice of wardrobe, Ryan Lewis has struck out for the last forty-five minutes and is now content to drink away his sorrows at the bar. Lewis, in a pair of leather jeans far too tight and a black jacket with the collar popped up, sips at a fruity drink with an umbrella in it, trying in vain to stop his foot from tapping along with the music. He takes another sip, slopping a bit down the front of his jacket with a start as someone appears quite suddenly and quite noisily beside him.

Brian Blaze: “WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO, LEWIS! What the hell are you wearing, man?”

Lewis: “Dammit, Blaze! Some of my Alabama Slammer, thanks to you!”

Ryan begins to absorb some of the dampness with some bar napkins as Brian grabs his drink, eyeing it with disdain.

BB: “What are ya, GAY? Though that would certainly explain the outfit…”


Lewis: “Hey, I’ll have you know that clothing like this is the style in these parts! The ladies love it!”

BB: “Huh. I guess the three of them I had in my room all night failed to mention that. Ah, well.”

Lewis grits his teeth in frustration and outright jealousy as he slams the napkin down on the bar, snatching his beverage from Brian’s hand.

Lewis: “So what about you, Mr. Ladies Man? Out having fun with your boyfriends?”

BB: “Why yes, my hetero life partners and I are out here celebrating Eddie’s retaining the title and Johnny’s not dying via weed-whacker! In fact, the two of them are having a drinking contest right now.”

Lewis, who had just taken a drink from his feminine beverage, spits the liquid back into the glass.

Lewis: “EDDIE ROWAN IS IN A DRINKING CONTEST!?”


BB: “Yeah, it’s getting pretty brutal over there, too. I-“


Lewis: “SHOW ME!!”

Lewis jumps to his feet, wincing slightly before adjusting his restrictive trousers. He urges Blaze to lead him to the scene, and Mr. Entertainment complies, leading Lewis on a weaving path across the dance-floor to a large corner booth. About the booth are fellow CZW stars Krimzon Blaze, Dwayne Campbell, and Ian Chadwick, as well as Spencer. A few other fans and spectators are also arranged in a semi-circle around the booth, chanting loudly.

“DRINK! DRINK!! DRINK!!!”

Lewis quickly fights to the front of the group, taking in the scene. On one side of the booth, Eddie sits with KB and Spencer. Three dark glass bottles are set beside him, apparently empty, and he is in the process of downing one at the present. On the opposite side of the booth, Kerosene chugs away on his own bottle. Sitting next to him, KB and Ian loudly cheer him on.

Dwayne: “Give it up, Johnny! I love you, my brother, but you can’t win this one!”


Ian: “HA! Even with 12 stitches in his neck he can drink yer boy Eddie under the table!”


KB: “Go, Johnny, GO! GO! Go, Johnny, GO! GO!”


Simultaneously, Eddie and Johnny slam their bottles to the table, glaring at one another in a way that looks less like they’re drunk and more like they’re in pain.

Lewis: “I can’t believe it! Eddie Rowan in a DRINKING CONTEST! So much for being straight-edge!”


Spencer: “Oh, he’s still edge, Ryan.”


Spencer notices Lewis’ confused expression and tosses him one of the empty bottles, which Lewis then inspects closely.

Lewis: “Root beer?”

Spencer: “Yeah. And we had to bring that into the country with us! They hate it here!”


Lewis: “…but…how can you have a drinking contest with root beer?”


As Spencer begins to explain, Johnny Kerosene lets loose an atomic belch with such ferocity and volume that it rocks the very foundation of the building! The noise was so sudden that Lewis jumped, though everyone around him just cheered even more loudly than before. Dwayne stands up, raising Eddie’s hand.

Dwayne: “THE WINNER!!”


All six men at the table laugh amongst themselves, part of Johnny’s chuckling coming out as another respectable burp.

KB: “First one to burp is the loser, though looking from your outfit, Lewis, I’d say you know all about being one of those.”

Lewis: “Har. Har.”


Ian: “I’m impressed, Johnny. You tore a wall down with the force of that, but you didn’t pull a single stitch.”

Johnny: “What can I say? They have some great doctors out here.”

BB: “And even greater nurses!”

There is a collective laugh shared by those in the area who speak English before the group stands up from their seats. Spencer turns to Eddie, patting him on the back.

Spencer: “Well fought, champ. Do you have anything to say to your adoring fans?” asks Spencer as he turns to Eddie, patting him on the back.

The smack to the back causes the proverbial dam to burst, and Eddie belts out a belch every bit as powerful as Johnny’s. The expulsion lasts long enough that it likely could tie the record, and when he finally stops, Eddie’s eyes have begun to water.

Spencer: “Yeah, I’d say that just about covers it.”

-------------


Two hours later and we find Eddie, Spencer, and Lewis as they walk down the streets of Tokyo, Japan, brightly lit at this late hour from neon-signs. Fatigue has begun to show on their faces, but the excitement of exploring seem to keep them running strong as they traverse the crowded avenues, passing by citizens clad in all manner of dress.

Eddie: “Hey, Ryan, why didn’t you opt for the Japanese goth-style instead of that hipster crap you were wearing?”


Ryan, now dressed in simple blue jeans and a coat, only rolls his eyes.

Lewis: “How about you stop worrying about my wardrobe ‘champ’ and focus on winning this next match? This could be the END, you know? You guys could take them out once and for all!”

Eddie smirks, pulling his hands from the pocket of his hoodie to pull up the hood.

Eddie: “We’re not trying to kill them or anything. Though I do wonder if that’s not what THEY are trying to do.”

Lewis: “Well, you know Fiscus. He’ll stop at nothing, including homicide to win a match.”

Eddie: “Well, you’re exaggerating a bit, but yeah. He’s got a lot to prove with this one. In fact, if we beat these guys here in Tokyo, I’d venture to say it would kill a ton of the steam they had for this entire war to begin with. I mean, sure, they keep running around backstage and taking people out, but what does it say if they keep losing time and time again in official matches? Really, it just proves that we ARE the better side and they’re just coming off as jealous little crybabies. Now, I’m not saying that they’re talentless hacks at all, and personally, I feel that they’ve already gotten their foot back in the door, they could maybe just forget this little ‘war’ nonsense altogether, but Fiscus has them all brainwashed into thinking they still need to carry out this little crusade.”

Spencer: “You still think he’s just using all these guys?”

The trio stops and leans on a low stone wall, looking back admiringly at the brightly lit cityscape.

Eddie: “You did see what happened to Edward Croft, right? When the Renegades first showed up, Alan talked about how they were united with a common purpose, and he even called them ‘brothers.’ Now, I ask you if that’s how you’d treat any of YOUR brothers? He’s just using them like he uses everyone else in his life. He’s obsessed. For someone who talks about how crappy people can be, he sure isn’t trying very hard to set himself apart. I suspect he was dropped on his head several times as a child.”

Lewis: “Well, he’s teaming with his own brother in this match. He’s at least gotta trust HIM, right?”

Eddie: “Maybe. Though if he was just another pawn in Alan’s game, I wouldn’t be surprised. ‘Psycho’ Sam Attic, huh? Have you ever heard this guy talk? He definitely picked the right nickname for himself. He’s unhinged to say the least. If Alan Fiscus was dropped on his head as a child, Sam was spiked like a football in the end zone. There’s some definite damage there and he really should get some help with that. You know, the kind of help where they put you in a nice white coat, tie the sleeves behind your back, and toss you in a rubber room. He’s dangerous, and he’s unpredictable, which is why he’s been so successful, but he gets that crazy look in his eyes sometimes where you wonder if he’s gonna shiv you in the locker room. Bad juju, that guy.”


Lewis: “Juju…?”

Eddie: “Godzilla Sawyer…still don’t see how he’s fallen so far. He was always a nice, funny guy. Got a bit of a chip on his shoulder and sold his soul to Jesse Montana. Seriously, Jesse has betrayed more people than Tim Timmons, so why do people still fall for his tricks? Between Sawyer and Montana, you have two of the most experienced athletes on the planet. Jesse is a criminal mastermind and Sawyer is as tough as his namesake. Throw in Justin Marsham who, in my opinion, is one of the best wrestlers on the planet and we’ve definitely got our work cut out for us. But as you’ve probably noticed, I’ve put together my own A-Team.”

Spencer: “Yeah, comprised of three guys you just beat for your title and a guy you waged a bitter war with the last time he was employed here. Are you sure you got the right guys for the job? Wouldn’t you rather have picked some people who might be a little less…bitter?”

Eddie shakes his head with a smug grin.

Eddie: “This is bigger than titles, guys. Collum and I have had our differences, sure, but all that is water under the bridge. We’ve fought before and we’ll likely fight again, but right now we’re teaming together to make sure we still have a PLACE in which to fight. Buzz, Mort and Pabs are too good to never get another shot at the belt, so what do they have to feel bitter about? It was a four-man match, leaving them each a 75% chance of losing. It certainly can’t be considered a ‘failure’ if they didn’t win with those odds. Though, I will take this opportunity to brag about being the very FIRST World Champion in CZW history to escape a multi-man match with his title reign intact. Just another milestone in my illustrious career.”

Lewis: “What, do you want a medal?”

Eddie: “Nah, that would totally clash with my belt.”

Spencer offers up a little snicker.

Lewis: “Just remember, you’ve got this important match against the Renegades, but you’re also the World Champion. No matter what happens with Team Fiscus, you’ll be facing Brian Kirkland, Mike King, or Ryan Shane at the Tribute show in Afghanistan. No small feat there.”

Eddie: “True, all three of them are worthy opponents, but you’re forgetting one thing, Ryan.”

Lewis: “What’s that?”

Eddie glances at Lewis.

Eddie: “BOUCHE!”

Eddie socks Lewis in the arm and heads off back toward the city. Shrugging, Spencer and Lewis move away from the wall and follow Eddie off to explore the beautiful city of Tokyo, just a couple days away from the extreme insurrection.

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