Post by Debra Monroe on Feb 21, 2021 3:28:48 GMT -5
Debra walks outside to the back end of Atlanta’s St. Francis Soup Kitchen and squats onto a milk crate. She peels off the facemask required of her to wear during serving hours and wipes away the sheen of sweat collected from twelve hours of work alleviating some of the peril she couldn’t relate to: homelessness. The Mugger from Huggerton pulls out a pack of Stallion Lights candy cigarettes and pops one in, then takes a few puffs on it.
”Take me to Sugar Palace, stallion.”
She removes the sugar carcinogen from her mouth and blows imaginary smoke as she retrieves her trusty old timey audio recorder device from her pocket. Her opponent this week is Randy Buster, whom she’s spoken highly about when interacting with individuals who have been where Randy’s been with addictions and being broken. Randy was able to beat his demons, and she’s used his success story all day to inspire those she’s served.
Buster’s second hiatus from the ring in short order after his blood feud with Ziagon has curried favor with her curiosity though. She presses the button and uses her small break from service to record her findings.
”Patient One: Randy Buster. Subject displays genuine reconciliation with his family, to the point he’s undergone physical abuse I can’t fathom ever going through.”
She reflects on the film footage she saw of the legit war Randy and Cormack waged, and the Hug Queenpin is thankful this will be a singles match and not something crazy like she witnessed in that contest.
”Subject has the Tom Brady syndrome. It’s no coincidence Randy came back to the ring after Brady threw retirement off the cliff and cast his lot with Tampa Bay. Subject thinks there’s still gas in the tank, and he’s right. But he doesn’t understand that it’s not the gas tank that’s the problem. It’s the transmission, axels, wheels, oil filter. Subject keeps on going though, no matter how many times he gets knocked down. Admirable. I only dream of having his toughness some day. I’ll seek out Dr. H.R. Huggingstuff for tips on advanced hugaputic treatments I can offer Randy after our match. Randy’s a gem we cannot afford to lose.”
Click. End recording.
A humming noise catches her attention. It’s an Action Wrestling drone descending from the air. A promo video device is integrated into it with a cue card announcing a countdown to her promo start....
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The green light is on. Action Wrestling’s production crew has socially distanced themselves up to a mile away from the potential hotflash of COVID superspreading. The homeless are known for spreading it quicker than most, sadly. Where’s Shia LeBeouf when you need him? He’d be all up in there.
Deb can’t blame them, so she smiles and spiffies herself up to look presentable for the masses.
”Randy, you need a hug, and guess what? You’re in luck. People have gotten into fist fights over the rights to a hug from me. Yes sir, you need one after your last few times in the ring. Ziagon tried to permanently end your comeback tour with that horrible chair attack that put you down for several months. When you came back to sate your thirst for vengeance, you learned that Confucius was correct when he said ‘Before you embark on a journey of revenge, dig two graves. One for yourself.’ And you were put on the shelf again at Zaigon’s diabolical hands.``
She can just FEEL how happy Randy would be if she could wrap him up in her arms and hug all his ails away!
”But something tells me the hug you want is the one where you hug my head with your arm and drive it into the mat for the 1-2-3. I don’t fault you. After what you’ve been through recently, you can’t be loosey-goosey with the likes of me. I promise to extend the same courtesy to you. I know it'll be an uphill climb since you were dropping heads before I was even born. I can’t close that experience gap, even with Jan Van Der Roost and crew at Squires Academy prepping me.”
She puts the candy cigarette back in her lips “Marlboro Girl” style.
”But where I lack experience I make up for in youth, speed, and conditioning. I’m not riddled with injuries that can be exploited like your knees. Yes sir, they’re fair game. I don’t like going there, but you’re an equal opportunity butt kicker and I know you’d do the same to me. I have the benefit of seeing what Blaze Freya did wrong to cost her the match against you, but also what Ash did right to score the clean win over you. I’m coming to win. I’m coming prepared. I’m gonna pack a lunch, dinner, and a snack for this fight. I suggest you do the same.”
She checks her wristwatch and stands up, then “puts out” the candy cigarette on her tongue before crunching and swallowing.
”Know what’s kinda funky about us, Randy? We’re so different in gender, age, all that stuff but we both have demons we’ve had to beat. They were different. Yours killed your career when you were in your prime. Yours killed parts of your body. Mine-”
She shelves her tongue for a second. Hers killed someone more precious than she will ever be, and it made her watch. Voicing it invites fear that the demons will be summoned on the spot, so she opts out.
”Mine did bad things too. We’re kindred spirits, Randy. We beat them. We just have to keep them interred. Maybe our booking isn't as simple as me getting booked against a fellow rookie in my debut, then a living legend in my next match to see where management can rank me. Maybe some cosmic force brought us together to forge our wills in battle, to establish a bond through sweat and hugshed.”
Battery suddenly dies. Go figure. Terrible equipment maintenance, production crew. Gah!