United by Purpose (Mintzel/Lowe Combo RP)
Feb 7, 2021 23:49:35 GMT -5
James Nightingale, Ned the Intern, and 1 more like this
Post by Raging Frank Lowe on Feb 7, 2021 23:49:35 GMT -5
Monday 1st February
“I can see from your notes I’m the third doctor you’ve seen today.”
“The other two were shit.”
“I’m afraid not Mr Mintzel, medically it’s a definite no.”
“I’m going to ignore you. You know that, yeah?”
“You’ve got at least 1 broken rib, you’re showing symptoms of whiplash and I’d much rather monitor you for another 3 days, at least. You shouldn’t exert yourself for 2 weeks, probably a month.”
“I’m going home tonight.”
The doctor sighs and looks resigned. What could he do to stop this giant of a man, even if he wanted to?
“I can’t stop you, but our records will show our recommendation.”
As soon as the doctor has vacated the blanket of bravado is immediately removed from Matthias who grimaces as he reaches over to grab a glass of water from his bedside cabinet. The water slides down his throat but it’s room temperature now and the pain from the rib makes him regret bothering.
In a way, it was a miracle Matthias’ injuries weren’t worse.
It hadn’t come as a surprise to him how tough the match at Revolution would be. He knew Spencer Adams would be up for a fight, and Spencer Adams was up for a fight. He knew he’d have to dig deep, and he dug deep. He knew it would be painful and he’d be feeling the after effects for days and probably weeks after the event, and here he was feeling that pain. And he knew, when all was said and done, that he’d win the match…
But he lost.
After losing the Pure Title and then failing to win it straight back, Matthias had suffered for weeks. As he was carted out of the grounds of the White House, without the Hardcore Belt he’d treasured so much he swore that wasn’t happening again.
Tuesday 2nd February
“You sure, sir? Some scary stuff goes on in there!”
“Do I look like someone who scares easily?”
The taxi driver nods, fair point.
This was unknown territory to Matthias. Not the neighbourhood they were heading to, but the Battle Bowl draw.
The underdog role suited him, he’d won 2 belts with no one expecting it. Now though, two new hotshots were in the way. According to anyone watching, Matthias was the old guard this week and after the beating at Revolution, he certainly felt it.
---------
I’m not sure I’m what Angela would want representing the homeland these days but I doubt she’s thrilled to see you crop up and take on America, Butcher.
Of course you’re from Kiel. My Dad worked on the ports and sometimes he’d take me down there and tell me that I should make sure I was a good swimmer. If I was really strong I could swim all the way across the Baltic Sea to Denmark and live a better life, but I had to make it all the way, because if I was a weak swimmer I’d only get as far as Kiel and everyone who lived there was fucked in the head.
Seems like he was right, huh?
But what can I say about you? You’ve come to America and you’ve conquered. How can I stand here and mock the psychopath who’s walked through the roster like it’s nothing?
I see why people cower when they look at you, but to answer my own question, I’m not a man who scares easily. The reputation you’ve already got, it’s impressive but it takes more than that to concern me. You might have shocked the locals and won some quick prizes, but that run stops on Monday, Butcher.
And what of your friend? Your Clown Prince to the Clown King. Two fancy dress artists who rocked up at the same time have found their way to one another, it’s sweet. I ask you though, Twiztid, was this really the plan? To be in the shadow of another newcomer? To be a sidekick to someone who’s everything you are anyway, but just a little more dangerous? A little bit more mental? Just a little bit… better?
It seems a bit careless getting cast in the number 2 role already, no? I choose my allies a lot more carefully. I’m not going to mock you for losing to Downfall, many others will suffer the same fate at his hands. And whilst Zaigon Carter was to Action Wrestling what I am to pissing into the air during a hurricane, at least you won. At least you have a career highlight here, no matter how insignificant.
But it’s not the US champion a few months into your stay, is it? If your boss doesn’t scare me, why would you?
Much as I hate to admit it, one thing I can count on my partner is that he’s not the type to be impressed by you jesters either.
Of course you’re from Kiel. My Dad worked on the ports and sometimes he’d take me down there and tell me that I should make sure I was a good swimmer. If I was really strong I could swim all the way across the Baltic Sea to Denmark and live a better life, but I had to make it all the way, because if I was a weak swimmer I’d only get as far as Kiel and everyone who lived there was fucked in the head.
Seems like he was right, huh?
But what can I say about you? You’ve come to America and you’ve conquered. How can I stand here and mock the psychopath who’s walked through the roster like it’s nothing?
I see why people cower when they look at you, but to answer my own question, I’m not a man who scares easily. The reputation you’ve already got, it’s impressive but it takes more than that to concern me. You might have shocked the locals and won some quick prizes, but that run stops on Monday, Butcher.
And what of your friend? Your Clown Prince to the Clown King. Two fancy dress artists who rocked up at the same time have found their way to one another, it’s sweet. I ask you though, Twiztid, was this really the plan? To be in the shadow of another newcomer? To be a sidekick to someone who’s everything you are anyway, but just a little more dangerous? A little bit more mental? Just a little bit… better?
It seems a bit careless getting cast in the number 2 role already, no? I choose my allies a lot more carefully. I’m not going to mock you for losing to Downfall, many others will suffer the same fate at his hands. And whilst Zaigon Carter was to Action Wrestling what I am to pissing into the air during a hurricane, at least you won. At least you have a career highlight here, no matter how insignificant.
But it’s not the US champion a few months into your stay, is it? If your boss doesn’t scare me, why would you?
Much as I hate to admit it, one thing I can count on my partner is that he’s not the type to be impressed by you jesters either.
The taxi pulls up outside and Matthias pays, the taxi scurries off as quickly as it can.
Matthias smiles a wry smile as he looks at the grimly run down bar. Where else? He walks in the front door, not knowing what to expect but isn’t surprised when the 20 or so patrons fall immediately silent and stare.
“He’s here to see me.”
A voice from the far side of the room announces. Still wary, the other people in the bar continue with their evenings as Matthias walks over to the man he beat twice at the end of 2020, Frank Lowe who’s flanked by Shooter and Noose.
“It’d be polite to get me a beer.”
Matthias fights back a natural temptation to punch Frank in the face. He nods and goes to the bar. He wouldn’t fancy his chances in this environment, and besides whether they want to admit it or not they have a common goal, Matthias at least recognises Frank’s inclination towards hurting people, and that wasn’t the worst trait in a tag partner.
“And one for each of the boys.”
Matthias returns to the table with 3 beers.
“Don’t forget Bull!”
Matthias begrudgingly heads back to the bar and grabs another before returning to the table.
“You’re not having one? Thought you Krauts drank like fish?”
“Not today.”
Matthias didn’t want to admit the real reason. Even he knew how much drinking whilst doped up to the eyeballs on this many painkillers could fuck him him.
“Didn’t think I’d see you til Monday night.”
“I wanted to make sure we had an understanding.”
“You offering some kind of fuckin’ olive branch?”
Frank laughs.
“Fuck no.”
Frank smirks at Noose, Shooter, and Bull. The Original Hangmen return the smirk, but Bill sits dead faced.
“I just wanna check you’ve got your head in getting to that Battle Bowl match. We don’t have to like each other to get there.”
“I’m not just getting to the Battle Bowl, I’m winning the whole fucking thing. I guess some asshole has to be my partner and it just had to be you. I promise nothing after the event, but until then our opponents are the only ones in danger, that I’ll guarantee.”
“That’s all I needed to hear.”
There’s the faintest of nods but nothing like a handshake or gesture to say goodbye as Matthias turns and walks out without a second look, though a limp is clear, leaving Frank and The Hangmen with freshly poured beers.
------------
The more things change, the more they stay the same, huh? Here I am, yet again, coming off another knock down, drag out war against a man the armchair wrestlers didn’t give me a shot in hell against, and where am I? I’m holding the leash of the largest dog I’ve ever seen and heading into the biggest fucking opportunity I’ve probably ever had in my career. Battle Bowl means the final spot in the Havoc Rumble. It means skipping the line and missing the absolute chaos of the unpredictable horseshit that’s otherwise inevitable in a match of that nature. I’m fucking here for it… Even if it means I have to buddy up to that Eurotrash partner of mine.
But I suppose it’s poetic that I have to pair up with the German to face the other German in this goddamn tournament, huh? On some level, I’m happy it’s happening, because for no matter how hard I try, I just can’t think of any example in history of how the world has gotten rid of a German madman who gained a significant title far beyond what should have been his limit. Maybe Matty will know something I don’t and we can game plan…
But why the hell has everyone in this company struggled so hard to beat this fucking wackjob? I look at the guy and I don’t see anything too special. I’ve beaten badder men than him more times than I can count, but I just watch this masked nutcase knock off opponent after opponent after opponent with that Kroeger Brand Dr. Mengele on his heels and… I’m lost. How is this happening? Has this whole company gone to shit since Matty stole my Hardcore Title?! Do championships mean nothing now?! A fuckin’ looney toon is US champion and a woman is the World champ?! Honestly, up is down, down is up, and nothing will make sense in this place until I set shit right.
But while we’re chatting about things that don’t make sense, let’s not forget the madman’s partner, Twisted Insane. Does Action Wrestling have no qualms about hiring literal gang members these days? We couldn’t sustain the career of the terrorist Chow Ding, but the Juggalo gangster is just a-ok, huh? Seems to be quite the double standard in my book! But what the hell do I know, right? I’m just the man who has a direct line to the REAL President of the United States, Donald Trump! I’m not wrecking my brain or my body with Faygo after Faygo and going “Chicken Hunting” or whatever inane shit the Jaggalos are up to these days. I know how a fucking magnet works. I don’t believe in miracles. And that’s bad news for Twisted Insane, because the only hope that make up wearing fuck had in this match against me and Matty was a miracle.
I love this Battle Bowl shit. I love how the nature of it forces weird, shitty little team ups to happen. Me and Matty would gladly destroy each other in normal circumstances, but for this tournament, we’re forced to play nice and use our combined forces to destroy you two dipshits instead. Sure, you’re both on the same page with your Devil’s Black Gate Hand or what the fuck ever connection, but how goddamn “same page” can you get with an unpredictable madman? If I had to make an educated guess, I’d say that Metzger has ridden a wave of unpredictable success because he’s been one man all for himself. A tag tournament isn’t exactly the ideal circumstances for his success, is it? Sure, admittedly Matty and I have gone to war and sure we’ve acted our of pure fucking hate in the past, but at the end of the day, I know what he wants and more importantly, what he’ll do. Do either of you big assholes know what the other will do? Really, do you?! Twizted, you’re looking at a literal insane man and counting on him to act rationally?! Ha! You might be fucking crazier than he is! No one controls Metzger, Twizted. Not even Metzger controls Metzger! So when the chips are down, your alliance sure ain’t going to be much of a united front, is it?
Matty and me? We know EXACTLY where we stand. Enemies united by purpose. Period.
You two? You’re a pair of crossed fingers hoping for the best.
Well, bad news, me and Matty are here to break your fucking fingers, boys.
But I suppose it’s poetic that I have to pair up with the German to face the other German in this goddamn tournament, huh? On some level, I’m happy it’s happening, because for no matter how hard I try, I just can’t think of any example in history of how the world has gotten rid of a German madman who gained a significant title far beyond what should have been his limit. Maybe Matty will know something I don’t and we can game plan…
But why the hell has everyone in this company struggled so hard to beat this fucking wackjob? I look at the guy and I don’t see anything too special. I’ve beaten badder men than him more times than I can count, but I just watch this masked nutcase knock off opponent after opponent after opponent with that Kroeger Brand Dr. Mengele on his heels and… I’m lost. How is this happening? Has this whole company gone to shit since Matty stole my Hardcore Title?! Do championships mean nothing now?! A fuckin’ looney toon is US champion and a woman is the World champ?! Honestly, up is down, down is up, and nothing will make sense in this place until I set shit right.
But while we’re chatting about things that don’t make sense, let’s not forget the madman’s partner, Twisted Insane. Does Action Wrestling have no qualms about hiring literal gang members these days? We couldn’t sustain the career of the terrorist Chow Ding, but the Juggalo gangster is just a-ok, huh? Seems to be quite the double standard in my book! But what the hell do I know, right? I’m just the man who has a direct line to the REAL President of the United States, Donald Trump! I’m not wrecking my brain or my body with Faygo after Faygo and going “Chicken Hunting” or whatever inane shit the Jaggalos are up to these days. I know how a fucking magnet works. I don’t believe in miracles. And that’s bad news for Twisted Insane, because the only hope that make up wearing fuck had in this match against me and Matty was a miracle.
I love this Battle Bowl shit. I love how the nature of it forces weird, shitty little team ups to happen. Me and Matty would gladly destroy each other in normal circumstances, but for this tournament, we’re forced to play nice and use our combined forces to destroy you two dipshits instead. Sure, you’re both on the same page with your Devil’s Black Gate Hand or what the fuck ever connection, but how goddamn “same page” can you get with an unpredictable madman? If I had to make an educated guess, I’d say that Metzger has ridden a wave of unpredictable success because he’s been one man all for himself. A tag tournament isn’t exactly the ideal circumstances for his success, is it? Sure, admittedly Matty and I have gone to war and sure we’ve acted our of pure fucking hate in the past, but at the end of the day, I know what he wants and more importantly, what he’ll do. Do either of you big assholes know what the other will do? Really, do you?! Twizted, you’re looking at a literal insane man and counting on him to act rationally?! Ha! You might be fucking crazier than he is! No one controls Metzger, Twizted. Not even Metzger controls Metzger! So when the chips are down, your alliance sure ain’t going to be much of a united front, is it?
Matty and me? We know EXACTLY where we stand. Enemies united by purpose. Period.
You two? You’re a pair of crossed fingers hoping for the best.
Well, bad news, me and Matty are here to break your fucking fingers, boys.