Post by Stuart Slane on Jan 24, 2021 21:26:28 GMT -5
After the face off between Howard Black and Stuart Slane at Clash
Circe Cicero hustled up the ramp, ignoring the slurs and hog calls directed towards her. She crossed the stage and passed through the curtain to the back. Stuart was waiting; leaning against the wall, arms folded.
“As expected,” was how he judged the earlier confrontation.
“Yes, well, to me that’s a problem,” Circe replied, “You know what Black is trying to do.”
Stu nodded, “Motivate me. Howard tries to light a fire under everyone he faces. He wants that ‘smoke’.”
“Right,” Circe peered through the screen to see if the Lost Boy had found his way to them yet, “Just remember, he’s not trying to help anyone but himself. He's not your friend.”
“I know,” Slane watched Howard as he made his own journey towards gorilla, “But I don’t think he hates me yet, either.”
He grinned down at Circe, “Let’s go.”
*********
Uploaded to the AW Youtube Account 1/24/2020
Stuart Slane stands behind a workbench. He’s wearing a tan canvas carpenter’s apron, and blue nitrile gloves. The bench is of professional quality, with a lathe and a rack of impressive hand tools. A can of varnish and several paint brushes are also visible.
Set in the lathe is a wooden trophy; also of professional quality.
Observant members of the audience would recognize it as a replica of the Action Wrestling Wrestler of the Year Award for 2020.
Slane smiles.
“Hello, Dr. Black.”
He removes one of the gloves. It’s an awkward procedure, given how massive Slane’s hands are, but he maintains his jaunty demeanour throughout the struggle.
“Before I get down to brass tacks, I would like to express my heartfelt thanks to you and your efforts to combat the pandemic. It must be very stressful work, but also very rewarding, to have such an impact on the public. I’m not close enough to your husband to be aware of his thoughts on the matter, but I can only imagine he is immensely proud of you.”
Stu snaps off the second glove and extends his arms wide.
“He is the reason I’m contacting you, of course. It’s not something I normally do; I am a very private person myself, and have gone to great lengths to keep my own family clear of what goes on in this business. The sport can be unkind, and not just to the wrestlers themselves.”
Slane reaches down for something out of view.
“However, ‘Needs must when the Devil drives’, and due to circumstances that aren’t worth elaboration I am forced to ask you a favor.”
Stu produces a packing crate and sets it atop the table.
“I was hoping you would hold onto this for me.”
He lightly taps the trophy.
“It represents something Howard earned last year in Action Wrestling. The actual trophy is… gone. Stories vary on what happened to it. Stolen? Lost? Thrown away? I’m not sure.”
While holding the trophy steady he begins to unscrew it from the lathe’s vise.
“I do know that the physical award was something Howard did not respect at the time he won it. He made his feelings quite public on that matter. I never could fathom why. Howard earned the right to call himself Wrestler of the Year. He defeated some of the best fighters in the sport, at great risk to his own health and the health of others.”
Stu places the award atop the counter and gives it a last minute appraisal.
“The hardships he went through weren’t just physical, though. He challenged friendships. He restructured his contract with Action so that he could compete in a tournament; adding extra dates to his schedule, which kept him away from home.”
He glances up at the camera briefly; his expression becoming solemn. Reaching under the workbench he brings up a large roll of bubble wrap.
“So it never made sense to me that Howard was so blase about the original representation of his travails. After that was lost, and it turned up in auction, I tried to purchase it. Unfortunately, I’m not quite the prizefighter your husband is, and lacked the resources to submit the winning bid. So I did the next best thing.”
Stuart begins to swaddle the trophy in bubble wrap he unspools from its bolt.
“I made him a trophy! It's identical in appearance to the one Action gave him, though at scale. Honestly, Dr. Black, the original was almost as tall as Howard, and no doubt a burden for him to carry.”
Another glance up, though this time Stu is smiling coyly.
“Action’s prize was admittedly fancier than mine. That might have been another reason Howard seemed to have so little use of it; a man of his humble roots might have been embarrassed by how ostentatious it was. As a fellow ‘dirtball’ I can relate.”
He begins taping the protective wrap in place.
“Whatever the reason, Howard went through too much winning this honor to abandon it outright. Even if he has no use for it now, there will come a time it will matter to him. When his long journey down bottoms out, and it’s just him and you and the rest of your family, he’s going to want something physical to remind him of the short time he was the greatest wrestler in the world.”
After putting the box on it’s side Stu does the same with the now bundled up trophy; which is then slid carefully inside the box.
“I’d present it to Howard personally but doubt he’d accept it given his current state of mind. Thus, I'm forced to break one of my rules and involve you. That's how important this is to me.”
Setting the box right he lifts it off the table and onto the floor. He beams widely at the viewer.
“Through you, I hope to give Howard what he truly deserves.”
As Stu hunches over to tape up the package, the video cuts.