A Wrestler's Dream

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Chapter Eighty One

Tuesday October 26th, 2010: Late Night

Valley View Sports Center: DWL Tag Team Title Match

There they were, Randy and Marcos standing side by side in their outfits as they awaited to be called out for the main event. Randy, as always, could feel his adrenaline coursing through his veins, blocking out all the cheering from the arena crowd. “Are you ready buddy?” Marcos asked him. He saw Marcos’ fist sticking out so he bumped it and nodded in return. “Let’s get us some tag team gold!” “I hear that homes! I hear that.” Marcos’ voice sounded shaky as well.

“Now for our main event! Ladies and gentlemen, we have for you the Tag Team Ladder Match! And it is for, the DWL Tag Team Championships. First, from Binghamton New York, weighing in at an astonishing combined weight of seven hundred and ten pounds, The current DWL Tag Team Champions, Mike Dorvis and Motif!” As their names were shouted, Motif barged between Randy and Marcos, snarling at them. His ears are tiny as are his beady green eyes. He has white skin, a small, yet widened nostril nose and a small mouth. His chin is small as well. He was wearing a one piece, spandex suit that covered all of his body, except for half of his calves and from his elbows down. The suit had a skull with a pickaxe drilled into it, printed in a ghostly light gray on the front.

As he turned around Randy noticed that there were ghostly cracks all forming up to a black letter M. He had his half of the tag team gold over his shoulder as he exited to the arena. Mike Dorvis showed up this time, and looked Randy square in the face. He was very lanky and had scraggly brown hair. His nose is long and wide and his jaw is huge. He has average sized ears, a wide chin and a thick brown beard. He wears work boots, ripped jeans and a tucked in short sleeved shirt. He then flashed the title which Randy got a full glimpse of.

The title’s straps were made of a dark brown leather, with a center piece made of white gold. On top, poking out of the metal were the words: DWL Tag Team Champion. Below this was a picture of two guys holding each other’s arms up in the air and their free hands were holding a belt. Below this, bolted into the belt was the name: Mike Dorvis. Beside the center piece were two side pieces that each had the letters: DWL on them.

“Good luck.” Mike stated. He shoved Randy and Marcos a bit then stormed out into the arena. Loud sirens were going off followed by a weird hip hop beat with a country twang. “What the hell is that?!” Marcos asked. Randy shook his head and tried to focus on the match at hand. He knew that Marcos told jokes to alleviate the pressure a bit, but now was not a good time for it. He focused harder as the crowd’s cheering got louder. Tonight was different than any other night, however. Tonight’s atmosphere seemed so dense that you could cut straight through it.

“I heard you were working out homes! How’s it going?” Marcos asked him. Randy’s body was getting used to the workouts now, and he could actually feel bulkier than he ever did before. “I was weighed in yesterday and I’m up to two hundred and fifty five pounds, all muscle dude.” “Jesus!” Then the weird country music halted and their tag team music started. “Now, the opponents. Hailing from San Diego California, weighing in at a combined weight of four hundred and twenty three pounds, Marcos ’The Cheetah’ Gonzalez and ’The Phantom’ Randy Rodriguez!”

Randy and Marcos burst straight through the doors. Randy’s adrenaline seemed to kick in to overdrive as all of the crowd’s cheers began to be blocked out. Everything seemed brighter and every second they took to descend the ramp, made his heart pump harder. He could actually hear his heart beats in his ears as they reached the steel steps. Randy climbed the steps after Marcos, and saw the ref buttoning the belts onto a hanger. They were then, hoisted up into the air.

All around the ring were numerous sizes of ladders, all waiting; pleading to be used. Randy climbed into the ring and gazed up at the shining belts. He then looked over at Marcos and nodded. “We can do this buddy.” Marcos replied. “It’s do or die tonight.” Randy stated. They both jumped back and forth on the balls of their feet as they awaited the bell. “I can’t believe Randy went from losing his spot in the tournament to being thrown right back into a championship match with his companion, Marcos.” John said. “You’re absolutely right John. I think this is nothing short of a miracle that Randy is even standing, let alone battling alongside his buddy for their first professional belts.” Paul replied.

“But did I hear the weight correctly? Four hundred and twenty three pounds?! That means one of those two lost weight since the last tag team match, and one gained weight.” Paul added in. “I’m gonna place my bets on Randy as being the one who gained weight. Just look at how tight that shirt is on his massive arms! Those pants aren’t doing any better. It seems his training is actually paying off.” John said. The ref called for the bell and that’s when it hit Randy. He was actually in a professional title bout right here, right now. He went to look back and saw Motif’s fat arm clocking him in the face.

“What a clothesline by one half of the DWL Tag Team Champions!” John yelled. “Motif has that size advantage. If I were to judge who would last the longest, it would be a neck in neck tie between Marcos, Randy and Mike Dorvis. Though Marcos clearly has the agility factor, which will most likely play a great roll in this type of environment.” Paul replied.

“Randy? I’m going to get some weapons, keep Motif off my back.” Marcos whispered into his ear. Randy mustered all the energy he could into his lower body and kipped up off the mat straight to his feet. How the hell did I do that?! he thought. “What a kip up by the new kid.” Paul said. Motif swung a meaty hand towards his face, but he ducked backward out of the way. He saw Motif’s left hand swinging in, ducked below it and drop kicked Motif into the turnbuckle. Just then, Randy felt a giant bony fist land to his kidneys.

He fell to one knee, as a searing pain surged up his back. Motif turned back around and dropped, with a hammer fist onto the back of Randy’s head. He fell to the mat, dizzy and unaware of his surroundings. He then felt his body being lifted and wrapped tightly around someone’s shoulders. Then Randy’s mind buzzed as he became fully aware of who was holding him and the hold he was being put into. Before he could react, he felt he most piercing, bony knees stabbing him in the lower back, after falling from six feet in the air.

“UUUGHHH!” Randy yelled. He rolled around the ring, as the pain seemed to grow more and more by the second. It felt like someone had been twisting a blade deep into both kidneys and then stabbing them in further. “If this were a regular one fall match, Randy may have been done for good.” John said. “AH!” Motif’s massively low yet raspy yelp came from in front of Randy. He felt the mat shake as Motif fell face first onto it. “And here comes Marcos with one hell of a chair shot! He’s swinging towards Mike and… JESUS!” Marcos connected the chair straight into Mike’s privates.

“Oh god, just watching that made my balls scream.” Paul stated. “Get up homes.” Marcos whispered. His voice sounded distant, as if it were echoing off of cavernous walls. Randy felt his friend lifting him and eventually he was back up to his feet. He stumbled towards a far corner and rested as he saw Mike and Motif squirming around. Randy grabbed a nearby chair, and could feel how flimsy it was. These are definitely wrestling chairs. Those types of chairs that are loosened to bend easily, like thin aluminum. Randy thought.

He climbed to the top rope regardless, and held the chair below his waist. “What in the hell is he planning?” Paul asked. Randy shot a quick prayer up, crossed his chest and front flipped off the top rope. In midair he put the chair below his feet, and landed on Motif’s lower back. “OH GOD!” Motif yelled, and then he was unconscious. “WHAT A MENEAUVAR BY THE PHANTOM!” John said. “I don’t know what we should even call that move. The Chair Flip?” Paul replied. “Yeah, I hear that partner! The Chair Flip performed perfectly by our own, Randy Rodriguez.” John said.

Motif was stirring a bit shortly afterwards, jarring Randy’s attention. Randy bent down to make sure he was okay. “I’m so sorry dude, I didn’t know what I was thinking.” Randy whispered. “Ugh… G-Good move kid!” Motif reached up, wrapping his hand around Randy’s throat. All Randy could feel now was his throat crushing as the massive man got to his knees and then his feet. “Sorry about this kid.” he said. He grabbed a hold of Randy’s throat with both hands and swung backward, slamming Randy back first onto the chair that he had just used. Randy immediately arched his back as his spine screamed in agony.

“That has gotta hurt!” John stated. Randy felt his mind buzzing as the pain began to make him feel dizzy. As though, his opponents thought he was out, they left him alone. Instead, they focused their attention on Marcos who was diving off the top rope. He dropped onto Mike’s shoulders and heaved with all his might, driving the man head first into the mat. “That has got to be the sickest DDT I’ve ever laid my eyes on.” Paul muttered. Mike landed right next to Randy, who started to finally come to. Randy got to one knee and then used the nearby ropes to lift himself up.

As he turned, he saw Marcos being thrown onto the mat by Motif. Randy slid out of the ring, ran around towards Marcos and waited. Just as Motif leapt to do his finishing splash, Randy yanked Marcos out, causing Motif to land belly first onto the mat. “That’s the first time I saw anyone botch Motif’s finishing splash. Good job to Randy for saving his friend.” John said. Randy steadied Marcos onto his feet. “Th… Thanks homes.” “Anytime dude.” Motif seemed to be struggling to get to his feet, so Randy took this opportunity to grab a ladder.

He slid into the ring, opposite of Motif and stepped right past Mike. As he set the ladder up, Marcos dove off of the top rope and landed his finisher onto Mike’s back. Randy began to climb the ladder, and was nearly inches away from the belts. He could actually feel the cool leather under his fingertips, when a crushing blow slapped his back. Randy felt a very sharp pain as a kendo stick slapped him across the spine. He screamed and fell from the ladder instantly. “Where did he get that kendo stick anyway?!” John asked.

Mike continued to slam the stick all over Randy’s stomach and legs, causing him to burst into horrific cries of pain. Mike then placed the stick onto Randy’s throat and pushed hard, causing him to choke. “He’s gonna choke the life out of that man!” Paul yelled. Randy began to fade away, as everything around him became blurry. He reached up, trying to stop Mike from knocking him out. Just before Randy began to fade away, Mike grunted loudly. “You okay homes?” Marcos asked. He extended a hand which Randy grabbed onto. Marcos tossed Randy into the nearby corner and let him rest a bit.

In Marcos’ hand was another chair. It was bent, and had a sickening circular shape in the middle. On the mat was the, now busted up Mike. Blood was gushing down onto the mat but eventually it slowed down. Randy stumbled over the man’s body, as he went unconscious and shoved him out of the ring. “Judging by the way that man hit the mat, he’s out cold partner.” John stated. “I wouldn’t doubt it, after that nasty chair shot by Marcos.” Paul replied. They both turned their attention to Motif, who was now, just getting to his feet. Randy nodded towards another ladder and then Marcos slid out and retrieved it.

As he got in, he set the ladder up next to the previous one and then waited. “Randy, we have a perfect opportunity here. We just need to get rid of big draws McGraw over there.” Marcos said. “Right, I have an idea.” Randy replied. He whispered into Marcos’ ear and then he heard a feint chuckle escape Marcos’ mouth. “Let’s do this.” Marcos began climbing the left ladder as Randy ascended the right. They were halfway up both ladders when Motif began ascending both at once.

“What are they gonna do with King Kong there?” Paul asked. Randy slid down the ladder as did Marcos and they both grabbed a leg and yanked them through the openings. “What are they… OH DEAR JESUS!” Paul yelled. “They’ve got Motif locked in a sort of modified Boston crab maneuver, using that ladder as leverage! Look at the pressure being applied to this man’s knees.” John replied. Motif was flailing his arms around, screaming in pain as Randy and Marcos hung on with all their might. “Ready?” Randy asked.” “As I’ll ever be.” They both nodded then dropped off the ladder, pulling Motif even further into the steel.

“OH MY GOD!” Paul exclaimed. The crowd seemed to go silent as Motif fell, bringing both ladders with him. Randy slid one of them off the man’s leg and propped it back up. He grabbed the other one and set it on its side. “Marcos, start climbing the ladder. I see Mike is on his way back in…” “What?” Marcos replied. “JUST GO!” Randy ordered. Marcos nodded in return and ascended the ladder. “Oh no you don’t!” Mike yelled. “Oh yes he does…” Randy muttered. He did his patented toe hold drop, slamming Mike, chest first into the propped up ladder.

Randy then pulled the man’s legs through the ladder locked them and reached back, grabbing onto Mike’s neck. “JESUS H… He… He’s got the Back Stab locked onto that ladder! He’s gonna break the man in half!” Paul exclaimed. Randy heard Mike screaming, and felt him flailing his arms around. A few moments later, Mike passed out from the pain. Randy released the hold and then heard a sick slam and saw Marcos laying on the mat. Motif was half way up the ladder; his hands were touching the belts.

Randy jumped up towards him and pulled with all his might onto Motif’s legs, yanking them through the ladder. He did the same move as he did with Mike and was barely able to lock in the Back Stab, due to Motif’s enormous frame. Marcos began to stir, as he saw Mike unconscious and Motif being knocked out by Randy. Go get them partner. Randy thought. It was taking all his strength to keep the Back Stab locked in as he watched Marcos ascend another set up ladder. Motif broke free of the hold, but Randy was too fast for him. He got up, bounced off of the ropes and drilled all of his body weight into Motif’s massive stomach, spearing him into the nearby corner.

Marcos then ripped both titles off and then the bell rang. As if the volume was turned up from the crowd, all of their cheers began to pierce into Randy’s eardrums. “Ladies and gentlemen, here are your winners and the NEW DWL TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS, Marcos ’The Cheetah’ Gonzales and ’The Phantom’ Randy Rodriguez!” Randy got back up to his feet, heaving in and out hard as he rested against the ropes. He saw Motif getting up and was scared for a moment. As Marcos got back off the ladder, Motif yanked a belt out of Marcos’ hand.

The angry stare that he was giving the title really unnerved them both. He then looked over at Randy, flashing the belt, which had the name his name on it. Motif then grabbed Randy’s arm lifted it into the air and buttoned the belt around Randy’s waist. After it was fastened, Motif spun Randy around and stuck out his hand. “Are we going to see three matches where sportsmanship was displayed?” John asked. Randy immediately accepted the hand shake and then the two hugged. “That was a hell of a match man.” Motif whispered.

“Thanks man, you gave me probably one of the hardest fights I ever had received.” Motif let go of the hug, raised both Randy’s and Marcos’ hands into the air and shook them as the crowd cheered on. Mike got up, rubbing his back and stared at the three of them angrily. “I can understand why the man is upset. He’s held those titles with Motif for over three years now, the longest any tag team has held those belts.” John said. Mike just exited the ring, and kept his eyes locked onto Randy. He motioned his thumb across his throat, and flipped Randy off.

“Don’t mind him, he’s a sore loser.” Motif said. Randy would not let some angry athlete stop him from enjoying this night. He looked down, watching as the ceiling lights reflected brightly off the white gold surface. As he ran his fingers over it, the smooth metal made goose bumps appear all over his body. He just noticed his and Marcos’ music blasting through the arena, as all of his hearing came back to him. He and Marcos exited the ring, with both of their hands in the air, and then bowed towards Motif. As they ascended the ramp; Motif’s music came on.

A somber, sad orchestra rang out, and then suddenly turned to an upbeat horror like music. Motif had his hands in the air, as the crowd cheered for him. “He deserves this recognition John. After the sportsmanship he’s shown and the same attitude was returned, all three deserve these moments.” Paul stated. Randy and Marcos had gotten up to the top of the ramp and then Randy began to turn around. He saw Mike swinging his fist towards him and his instincts kicked in. He ducked and drilled his fist into the man’s stomach with all of his weight behind it.

“Ooh! What a punch!” John yelled. Mike dropped to his knees, and threw up all over the ramp. “That’ll teach him from sneaking up behind the man’s back.” Paul said. Randy left Mike on his back and entered the back area of the arena. As his eyes adjusted he saw a small get together consisting of Samantha, Gorgon, some of the other divas, Mana, Carl and Kolleen. They all were cheering and whistling as the door closed. Kolleen immediately ran over and hugged Randy tightly. She pulled his mask off and then their lips met.

“Let’s give it up for probably the best tag team action I have ever seen in my entire career. Let’s hear it for Randy and Marcos!” Carl yelled. Everyone yelled with happiness and sucked both Randy and Marcos into a group hug. Randy hadn’t ever felt this way other than the times he and Kolleen spent together. It was a feeling of exhausted emotions, to the point that it brought him to tears. It seemed as if saddening happiness was the only thing that made him feel alive at that moment. His body was aching but he swallowed the pain and allowed the group to lead them both to the back locker room.

Randy saw the locker room open and all of the contestants inside immediately cheered as the others did before. Crackin’ Jackson was even smiling and clapping as Randy and Marcos sat down. Randy stripped off his top revealing some ugly welts on his stomach. He winced when the shirt slid across them. “Look at them battle scars!” Crackiin’ Jackson yelled. “It looks like he’s joined the club.” Jackson lifted his shirt, showing welt scars across his back. He walked over with his hand extended and shook Randy’s.

He then shook Marcos’ hand as well and looked at them both. “That was the best wrestling I’ve ever seen in my history of being in this show. I can just hear the Twitter feeds going haywire after this. Hash tag, Randy and Marcos killin’ it!” Jackson exclaimed. He clapped a hand on both of their backs and went to sit down by his locker. Bongo Bruce came up this time and sat across from them. Neo sat by his side, both of which had the biggest smiles Randy had seen from them. They just shook Randy’s and Marcos’ shoulders and walked over next to Jackson.

“Excuse me, make way; make way! I gotta replace the names on these belts.” A short girl stated. She had long light brown hair, lightly tan skin, hazel eyes and a face that looked a lot like Jessica Simpson. In her hands were two pieces of white gold and a mini drill. She got to Marcos first and unscrewed Mike’s name and immediately drilled, Marcos’ nameplate in. When she got to Randy, and began pulling off Motif’s nameplate, she gazed up at his face. “You did amazing tonight, sir!” She said in a southern accent. She then drilled Randy’s nameplate into the middle piece.

“Uh… Thanks.” Randy replied to her. She blew him a kiss and exited the room. “You saw that I didn’t give her anything back, right Kol?” he asked. Kolleen laughed at him and nodded. “I appreciate that Ran-Ran.” She replied. The rest of the night, all of them celebrated in the locker room, eating pizza and drinking, all except Randy and Kolleen. They ate, but refused to touch the alcohol. They partied for what felt like hours, but Randy didn’t mind. He loved the compassion and loved the attention. Furthermore, he loved experiencing all of this with good friends, and a loving girlfriend.

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