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Insane? Never!; I had some last Tuesday, sir!
Topic Started: Jan 6 2011, 04:59 AM (75 Views)
Jay Wildman
In a retirement home
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
"Oops! Sorry about that boss. I'll go get the polish and see if I can get the residue off."

Zyrah scrambled out of the room faster than I could respond to her. Given her panic and my lack of awareness, it amazed me how often she could swindle my power from me with a simple nod. She learned her lessons well, living a hard life which forced her to do things she didn't like in order to keep her head above water. Everything she did protected her from an attack; self preservation at its finest.

So why did she have to "accidently" drop my sVo World title belt into the ice cream bowl?

I pulled the title out of the bowl and wiped it down as best as I could, trying not to get the viscous liquid all over the chair or the floor. I wondered if my reign as the first champion in two thousand and eleven would be remembered for dropping company property in various amounts of dairy products. They would call me the Milk King, force me to walk out to cows mooing as I wore a full cow suit with a crown. Hey, I wrestled at Lethal All-Pro Wrestling, anything could happen.

"Please don't get mad at me Jay. I am so sorry about all this. My mind wondered about being a champion and then I thought about my award winning pie at the fa-"

"It's all right, Zy. I know you didn't mean it, just watch what you do next time." I said, cutting her off.

"Sorry."

"No need to apologize anymore, let's get this cleaned up."

I handed her the title belt and then grabbed a soft cloth nearby. I knew keeping a few of these around the house wasn't mere paranoia; validation shouldn't have to come at the cost of dairy though. As Zyrah placed the title on her lap, I scowled at her and tossed a towel her direction.

"The chemicals in this solution will stain those pants. Put the towel under the faceplate and take off the blazer jacket so you don't ruin it either." I said.

Zyrah nodded, taking off her jacket first and draping it over the edge of the couch she sat on before lifting the title enough to place the towel under it. I walked over and handed her the soft cloth, watching her wrestle with the bottle of cleaning solution for a few moments. I chuckled, causing her to lash out at me, swiping at me with her right hand.

"Damn it, don't make fun of me!"

"Sorry, I'm not laughing at you. I'm amused at how ironic this whole situation is, I spent all my life getting something as valuable as this and it ends up in ice cream."

"I said I'm sorry!" Zyrah bellowed.

"Stop it, I'm not blaming you. I think the fates played a little game with me, reminding me when I get everything I wish for might be more than I wanted."

Zyrah pouted a bit and some tears started to build up in her eyes, one dropping on the black leather behind the faceplate. I frowned and chided myself for going a bit over the line with my last few statements. I sighed and sat next to her, giving her a half hug as she polished the precious metal plate.

"Why don't you tell me what you found out about the matches at Showdown, I've taken some time off for my studying and haven't had a chance to catch up yet."

Zyrah continued to polish as she spoke, her voice low and soft from frustration which forced me to strain to hear her.

"Everyone at the offices talked about the Amos and Thompson match up, saying it could steal the show. Someone even think it's a preview of a pay per view main event one day. Nightmare is going after Jon Page, though no one thinks the match will actually happen. You and JVD are going to square off..."

I pulled my arm away from Zyrah's slender frame and thought about the journey I traveled to get to this point in my life, what I needed to do in order to get the title around my waist. I wanted to think about the better times, when I could walk around without the suspicion I somehow fixed the match or even paid off BBD and Shame to take a fall like the finger poke of doom. My sore face and still fading bruises in certain areas were evidence against the conspiracy theory. No, they all thought I still wore the mask and for a while I might have, the time between leaving and returning to sVo is quite the blur. The only light beacon set for me in the darkest time of my life rested on my assistant's lap.

"JVD, huh? Quite the formidable opponent, he can give me a run for my money if I don't watch out."

"You do remember fighting with JVD a few months ago, right?"

"I did? I can't recall, I think I stayed in Prague or maybe Brussels. Most of the times you get to a European city and they sort of blend in with each other. I think I stayed at Apocalypse's summer villa. I thought he wasn't right in the head when it came to staying in a villa in the fall but in the end I was the insane one."

"Are you really going to do this again?" She asked, annoyed at me.

"Do what? I liked going on the old European tour of old haunts. I had some great times in Red Branch Wrestling."

Zyrah grunted and looked at me with the same doe eyes she used when she dropped the title into the ice cream earlier. I returned her gaze with the same disbelief I expressed before, knowing she would probably let me have it with both barrels.

"Stop acting like you weren't Grimnir, ok?"

"What do you mean?" I replied.

Zyrah sighed as she handed me the title with enough force to knock the breath out of me. She stood up and tossed the towel at my head, stamping her foot once in anger. Usually I found this act adorable but I figured this time around she is serious.

"Everyone knows it is you behind the mask, all right? No one except for a few foolish people think you magically appeared at Season's Beatings and just happened to take the contract away from 'Grimnir' so you can realize your dreams of being World Champion. You aren't Terry Bollea, all right? No one cares if you were under the mask or not, I'm sure they want to know the official identity of the man under the mask so just admit it to everyone and let it go."

I took the title and started polishing the ice cream off of the plate, my vision focused on the stain instead of Zyrah. I could feel her glare on my skin as her high heel tapped against the hardwood floor slow at first and then hastened with her anger and annoyance. I just maintained my composure, massaging the plate over and over as I waited for her to say something. The tense silence didn't last long before she screamed at me, her hand slapping my arm with a resounding thump.

"You're an asshole, you know that? Fine, you want to play this game? Fine! You go on thinking you're not Grimnir, you keep telling everyone you are just some lucky bastard who managed to do something only a few people could dream of. Don't tell them of your hard work and effort to get to this point. Don't tell them what we did to get here and please don't tell them I had to babysit you while you played like you were insane! Go fuck yourself, Jay Wildman!"

I couldn't bring myself to watch her leave, my eyes locked on the name plate etched with my name glistening back at me, distracting me with power and fame. I heard the footsteps as she stormed out of the dining room and through the kitchen before finding the front door. I heard he scream in anger before she slammed the front door, causing all of my pictures to rattle along the wall. I winced, hoping my framed memories wouldn't fall to their doom.

Lifting my head and expecting Zyrah to return to me with a disgusted look, I only heard the car screech out of the driveway and disappear down the street. I looked back at my title, noticing the cleanliness of the stained spot. I saw my own reflection and wondered if should admit...

Instead, I stood up from my seat and strapped the title around my waist. I spent a few minutes adjusting so it would fit well. I nodded once in satisfaction and then walked to my den where the footage of JVD awaited my study. I knew I would be behind the eight ball since I never faced him before in my life.
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