Post by Matthias Mintzel on Mar 14, 2021 7:48:11 GMT -5
Friday Night
Matthias Mintzel lies awkwardly on his couch that’s obviously too small for him, staring at his TV screen. Day has turned to night over the last few hours but he’s not really noticed, his curtains stay open but the room is dark, only lit by the flickering glow of the screen he’s staring at.
He feels a little weird as he looks up at the clock, 20:32 PM it reads, not that late which is good as he hasn’t eaten yet. A year ago he’d have been on about his tenth beer and probably his second or third takeaway by now. Now it doesn’t appeal, he’s taken wrestling seriously as a career again for the best part of a year and he’s a pro these days. He’s been laying there for about 4 hours drinking nothing but water, he’s stone cold sober. He’d got up early this morning and trained at 7:30 for a few hours. Had a rest, lifted some more weights in the early afternoon and come back home. He’d earnt this chill out time, what else was he gonna do this evening?
Now was nearly time to cook some dinner. Eggs, lean chicken, vegetables.
Same as he had for dinner yesterday, same as the day before. It was good for him.
Nothing interesting had happened all day which was ideal.
Same as yesterday, same as the day before. Full focus on continuing his climb in Action Wrestling. No distractions like he’d had.
He liked it that way… he was pretty sure.
Sure, it was a little dull. But this is what he wanted and he knew it.
This was definitely better than spending most of every day with that absolute fucking idiot NATE anyway! Matthias cringes as he imagines the energy he expended on that clown. Hours and hours in the gym to train him, he’d have had more success training a lump of lard and for what? NATE froze every time he got in the ring, a few improved performances followed by nothing.
Matthias had had success despite him, but he wasn’t helping the situation. He’d been Hardcore champion, teamed succesfully with James Nightingale in spite of having to waste so much time with NATE, not because of having him nearby.
NATE was an embarrassment. Matthias was a star, people were scared of Matthias Mintzel NATE was a comedy act. Obviously, Matthias didn’t give a shit what anyone thought of him, but letting that joke tag along with him for so long was ruining his image. At this level, one soft edge could be exploited and NATE was a risk who contributed nothing positive.
He couldn’t waste his time with him any more.
This, today, the last 24 hours, this lifestyle.
This was the lifestyle of a top star in Action Wrestling, right? Nothing but himself and his thoughts and time to focus.
Right?
“Of course it is”.
Matthias tells himself.
------
At first glance someone might not think you and I have much in common Max.
For example, you’re a midget who a stiff breeze would knock over and I’m a fucking monster of a man.
You think of yourself as a Pure wrestler, acrobatic when you need to be and your moves look like they come out of a coaching manual, whilst I just stand there and knock people out.
We seem nothing alike, do we?
But we do have some things that connect us both.
We were both Pure Champion. I mean, I held that belt with pride and honour as the first champion, a reign that will go down in history and never be forgotten, whilst people have already forgotten you had that title for a bit, but it’s still something for your résumé.
We’ve both had some fun with the boi Zmac. Again, not quite the same, I battered him and he stopped bothering me whereas you got battered by him, but it’s nice to find at least some common ground right?
And we both have painful memories of Revolution. We both lost our titles. No caveats, no snarky comments on that one, I bet it hurts you like it hurts me.
But one thing we don’t have in common is how we bounced back from losing.
In that time I’ve been in wars. I’ve beaten the likes of Der Metzger and Twiztid Insane, I’ve put a three time World Champion through tables, I’ve held my own with Dandy DiVito twice and Carter Shaw, I’ve destroyed newcomers like Bathory and Abraham, I was robbed against The Following. I faced my demons head on.
What have you done since you lost to Zombie?
Umm…
Er...
Apparently you were in the Battle Bowl first round, not sure anyone remembers. Fair enough I didn’t get there either, but I had a fucking anchor as a partner. If it was a league you guys would’ve come last place. I thought it was a cool booking idea to have you and Graeme Baker face off, the 2 who lost to ZMac, the 2 who went out first round with a whimper and you lost that one too, 32nd out of 32 people, nice one Max.
------
His film finishes.
The end credits play of “Christiane F. – Wir Kinder vom Bahnhof Zoo” - pretty much the most depressing film ever made. It follows an attractive, intelligent young girl from West Berlin before the unification of Germany who gets into the 70’s drug culture in the city, becomes addicted to heroin in the dark dingy underworld around Berlin Zoo Train Station, meets David Bowie briefly, has to prostitute herself to feed her habit out and then all her friends die grim deaths before they’ve seen out their teenage years.
It’s very much based on a true story.
Matthias has seen the film dozens of times, all Germans with a strong enough stomach have but he’s not really sure why he decided to watch it tonight. It’s a film he tends to watch when he’s feeling melancholy, but what’s he got to feel down about this evening?
Everything is going great. He’s free of NATE and has a big match against Max Daemon coming up. A real clash of styles against another hot shot who’s deservedly impressed everyone in Action Wrestling since joining The Havoc Rumble is in a few weeks, Matthias knows got to be one of the favourites this year. A big man, in great shape, a threat to literally anyone in the company with two great allies in the match as well.
Nothing to feel down about at all… just a strange urge to choose that film, he supposes.
He sighs a deep sigh without warning, and wonders where that came from as well.
He gets up and walks to his kitchen to cook his evening meal. A bit later in the day than he’d like but who cares, he’s not operating to any schedule now. To think, a few weeks ago he’d have cooked his evening meal and NATE’s at the same time, he laughs to himself disdainfully; as if he actually cut up NATE’s meat for him so he could chew it more easily! For fucks sake, that’s a grown man, technically. He would never have to do that again and he didn’t miss that at all…
Definitely…
He’s sure of it…
Completely sure…
As he turns on his oven he checks his phone. Yet another missed call from James Nightingale. Another long voicemail. He listens to it the whole way through but stops concentrating after the first few sentences, it’s much like the others. James is still angry but then again James is a fucking psycho who’s always angry. But fair enough, NATE had cost him a spot in the Battle Bowl so of course he’s furious, Matthias would be angry too in the circumstances! Matthias had to own this one, he’d let NATE tag along for too long and a catastrophe like this was inevitable, he should’ve cut NATE loose ages ago, he should’ve never got involved with him in the first place, if he’d done that none of this would’ve happened.
It should have been Matthias who NATE cost a match, James didn’t ask for NATE to be around, Matthias knew he owed James for this one.
Matthias wasn’t worried about Nightingale being angry. He’d calm down before Clash and besides, the answerphone messages were just detailing in graphic form what he was gonna do to NATE and Matthias couldn’t care less about that any more. James could do whatever the fuck he wanted to NATE and it wouldn’t matter to Matthias, he didn’t care at all…
Matthias cooks his meal, he goes for scrambled eggs tonight for a change and the chicken is pre prepared so it doesn’t take long. He eats it and looks at his clock again: 21:18, it felt like it was later.
--------
I’ve been here for a year now Max and I’ve seen so many others the same as you. You come in expecting to fly to the top of Action Wrestling straight away, and for a few weeks you can make yourself stand out. You beat the other newcomers who
You did better than most, you at least got your hands on a title, my title I’ll remind you.
I still don’t know what happened when I stepped into the ring with Noris Cranley. I still believe I beat that nobody 998 times out of 1000, and yet somehow the two times I don’t happen twice in a row? But you did what I couldn’t and beat him, then you couldn’t do what I did and got beat by ZMac, the demon who couldn’t scare me.
You probably learnt the same thing as me. Being champion is easy, losing is hard.
I suffered for a bit. Things got in my head, I lost matches I should’ve won. You want to pick apart my win loss record in that period and think it means anything? Go for it Max.
I bounced back stronger, I beat people no one expected me to beat, I won the hardcore title, I’m in a better place for it now. Same when I lost that Hardcore title, here I am every single fucking week, showing my face and working to get to the top.
I don’t hide. I don’t pretend I have a poorly shoulder just cos’ I need a few weeks off to repair my ego because I lost. I stand up to be counted and make no excuses. I watched you last week bleating about how you couldn’t beat Graeme Baker because you were hurt, Max I fight hurt every fucking week and I’ve never used it as an excuse, Graeme Baker beat you because he’s better than you, simple as that. You know it, and you know everyone knows it, why act like everyone’s a fool?
I fell 30 foot off some bleachers onto concrete at Revolution, I spent the next week in the hospital with broken ribs and discharged myself to carry the useless lump Frank Lowe to a win over the US champion and his clown prince friend ONE WEEK later. Cry my a fucking river that your arm hurt, nearly pulled out it’s socket? Max, if it was pulled out its socket, pop it back in and get the fuck on with it.
I’ll bet any money at all that when I beat your ass on Monday night you’ll be gone a few more weeks. That shoulder will have magically popped back out, or you’ll have tweaked a muscle in your leg, or you’ll have broken a toenail or something and we’ll see you in another month when you can go through, one by one, a list of all the titles you’re not good enough to hold again and hope someone takes pity on you and gives you a shot.
I’ve seen your matches, you’re athletic and technically excellent, more so than me by a long way but bounce around the ring as much as you want. I’ve seen better and I’ve sodomised bigger ragdolls than you. It takes more than that to win in this game, you should know that. One run of losses, one hurt body part, if that’s the beginning of the end for you you were in the wrong game the whole time.
You had your build up, you had your main event, you’ve proven the real you can’t handle the grind of this place, but it’s over.
-------
Matthias checks his phone again. No more answerphone messages from James Nightingale, no Facebook notifications, no WhatsApp chat going on. Half 9 feels a bit early to go to bed, but what else to do? The thought of watching more TV feels a bit depressing for some reason, last night he’d gone for a late evening walk around the block but he wasn’t really feeling it tonight, it was pissing it down with rain and it was blowing a gale.
“What the hell did I do last Friday night?” Matthias asks himself. He remember quickly- last Friday night NATE had tried to get in his suitcase to travel to Alabama with him and at first he’d got angry with him for breaking his only suitcase, then he’d had to help him out, then he’d had to tell him not to travel to Sayle, which NATE of course ignored, or forgot he’d been told.
At least he wasn’t doing that again. Spending his time with that fool and his Mom who just wanted a babysitter. At least now he’s got his freedom from that.
This evening is at least way better than that…
...right?
Matthias decides he is going to bed. He tells himself it’s a smart idea, he’ll be able to get up extra early tomorrow to train in the gym when it’s quiet. Again.
-----
To some extent you’re just unlucky Max, I honestly hope that makes you feel a bit better when your arm hurts again on Tuesday. You’ve caught me just at the wrong time. The Lost Breed is on fire, Downfall is an historically dominant TV champion, James just beat FPV with my help, if it hadn’t been for NATE being the biggest joke on the planet we, I mean he, would’ve been World Heavyweight Champion at Timebomb. The Havoc Rumble is coming up, that’s a match that’s built for me.
Your hiatus has killed your momentum dead, I’m on fire.
I’m in such a great place, I can’t even tell you. I’ve freed myself of the shackles of that lead weight NATE and now there’s no distractions. Every waking hour I’m focussed on my goals now, I’ve been climbing steadily for the last year and I’m hitting my stride right now and you are gonna feel the brunt of that.
Physically, this is the best shape of my life. I’m benching weights you couldn’t even get off the ground, you can do your fancy flips into my all you want and it’ll be like jumping into a brick wall.
Mentally, I’m in the perfect place, definitely. I’ve learnt from my hard times, and I’ve come back stronger. I now have a one track mind about what I’m going to achieve, The Lost Breed is my vehicle to success and the likes of NATE are passengers I can’t take along for the ride.
All this week I’ve been at home and I’ve been 100% focussed on you. You’re not the end goal but you’re the next step and I’m not stumbling at all, now only am I winning this Monday, I’m sending a message.
Matthias Mintzel of a few weeks ago would’ve beaten you easily Max, Matthias Mintzel right now will kill you.
You’re confused about what your future holds, you’ve made that clear. But I’m not, I’m winning the Havoc Rumble and becoming World Champion with The Lost Breed by my side. Whilst you’re nursing your hurt arm and trying to decide whether you want to flounder in the mid card of Clash or CruiserClash, we’re gonna be dominating all of Action Wrestling.
-----
Matthias lies in bed with his eyes wide open. Of course he can’t sleep, it’s not even 10PM, why would he be tired? From the street below he can hear a distant hum of people out enjoying their Friday night, not enough to keep him awake alone, but he’s weirdly conscious of if.
James Nightingale’s answerphone messages replay in his head. He doesn’t know why, he’s heard them plenty of times and they’re not exactly subtle, he’s got the message. NATE’s going to get badly hurt, which he’s fine with.
NATE’s stupid face is there too, weirdly. That stupid confused but sad look he had when he fired him. NATE was too dumb to get scared but he was definitely scared when Nightingale got in his face and stood up to him.
The big dumb idiot, thank god he’s gone for good. Honestly, Matthias hopes NATE doesn’t show his face in Action Wrestling ever again. It’s not like he can wrestle and he’s in big danger.
After half an hour or so of tossing and turning and not getting anywhere near to falling asleep, Matthias swears and gets back up. He grumbles as he frustratedly stomps through into his lounge, sits back down on his couch and puts on another film. He picks a French film he’s seen many times called “La Haine”, it’s about a group of friends in a run down neighbourhood of Paris who’s lives all get ruined in the space of 24 hours because the system is just fundamentally against them and they really have no chance to get out. Again, not a cheery topic but for some reason Matthias just feels like it tonight. It’s shot completely in black and white which is what he instinctively feels like looking at right now.
Distracted by the film, he at last falls asleep.
Matthias Mintzel lies awkwardly on his couch that’s obviously too small for him, staring at his TV screen. Day has turned to night over the last few hours but he’s not really noticed, his curtains stay open but the room is dark, only lit by the flickering glow of the screen he’s staring at.
He feels a little weird as he looks up at the clock, 20:32 PM it reads, not that late which is good as he hasn’t eaten yet. A year ago he’d have been on about his tenth beer and probably his second or third takeaway by now. Now it doesn’t appeal, he’s taken wrestling seriously as a career again for the best part of a year and he’s a pro these days. He’s been laying there for about 4 hours drinking nothing but water, he’s stone cold sober. He’d got up early this morning and trained at 7:30 for a few hours. Had a rest, lifted some more weights in the early afternoon and come back home. He’d earnt this chill out time, what else was he gonna do this evening?
Now was nearly time to cook some dinner. Eggs, lean chicken, vegetables.
Same as he had for dinner yesterday, same as the day before. It was good for him.
Nothing interesting had happened all day which was ideal.
Same as yesterday, same as the day before. Full focus on continuing his climb in Action Wrestling. No distractions like he’d had.
He liked it that way… he was pretty sure.
Sure, it was a little dull. But this is what he wanted and he knew it.
This was definitely better than spending most of every day with that absolute fucking idiot NATE anyway! Matthias cringes as he imagines the energy he expended on that clown. Hours and hours in the gym to train him, he’d have had more success training a lump of lard and for what? NATE froze every time he got in the ring, a few improved performances followed by nothing.
Matthias had had success despite him, but he wasn’t helping the situation. He’d been Hardcore champion, teamed succesfully with James Nightingale in spite of having to waste so much time with NATE, not because of having him nearby.
NATE was an embarrassment. Matthias was a star, people were scared of Matthias Mintzel NATE was a comedy act. Obviously, Matthias didn’t give a shit what anyone thought of him, but letting that joke tag along with him for so long was ruining his image. At this level, one soft edge could be exploited and NATE was a risk who contributed nothing positive.
He couldn’t waste his time with him any more.
This, today, the last 24 hours, this lifestyle.
This was the lifestyle of a top star in Action Wrestling, right? Nothing but himself and his thoughts and time to focus.
Right?
“Of course it is”.
Matthias tells himself.
------
At first glance someone might not think you and I have much in common Max.
For example, you’re a midget who a stiff breeze would knock over and I’m a fucking monster of a man.
You think of yourself as a Pure wrestler, acrobatic when you need to be and your moves look like they come out of a coaching manual, whilst I just stand there and knock people out.
We seem nothing alike, do we?
But we do have some things that connect us both.
We were both Pure Champion. I mean, I held that belt with pride and honour as the first champion, a reign that will go down in history and never be forgotten, whilst people have already forgotten you had that title for a bit, but it’s still something for your résumé.
We’ve both had some fun with the boi Zmac. Again, not quite the same, I battered him and he stopped bothering me whereas you got battered by him, but it’s nice to find at least some common ground right?
And we both have painful memories of Revolution. We both lost our titles. No caveats, no snarky comments on that one, I bet it hurts you like it hurts me.
But one thing we don’t have in common is how we bounced back from losing.
In that time I’ve been in wars. I’ve beaten the likes of Der Metzger and Twiztid Insane, I’ve put a three time World Champion through tables, I’ve held my own with Dandy DiVito twice and Carter Shaw, I’ve destroyed newcomers like Bathory and Abraham, I was robbed against The Following. I faced my demons head on.
What have you done since you lost to Zombie?
Umm…
Er...
Apparently you were in the Battle Bowl first round, not sure anyone remembers. Fair enough I didn’t get there either, but I had a fucking anchor as a partner. If it was a league you guys would’ve come last place. I thought it was a cool booking idea to have you and Graeme Baker face off, the 2 who lost to ZMac, the 2 who went out first round with a whimper and you lost that one too, 32nd out of 32 people, nice one Max.
------
His film finishes.
The end credits play of “Christiane F. – Wir Kinder vom Bahnhof Zoo” - pretty much the most depressing film ever made. It follows an attractive, intelligent young girl from West Berlin before the unification of Germany who gets into the 70’s drug culture in the city, becomes addicted to heroin in the dark dingy underworld around Berlin Zoo Train Station, meets David Bowie briefly, has to prostitute herself to feed her habit out and then all her friends die grim deaths before they’ve seen out their teenage years.
It’s very much based on a true story.
Matthias has seen the film dozens of times, all Germans with a strong enough stomach have but he’s not really sure why he decided to watch it tonight. It’s a film he tends to watch when he’s feeling melancholy, but what’s he got to feel down about this evening?
Everything is going great. He’s free of NATE and has a big match against Max Daemon coming up. A real clash of styles against another hot shot who’s deservedly impressed everyone in Action Wrestling since joining The Havoc Rumble is in a few weeks, Matthias knows got to be one of the favourites this year. A big man, in great shape, a threat to literally anyone in the company with two great allies in the match as well.
Nothing to feel down about at all… just a strange urge to choose that film, he supposes.
He sighs a deep sigh without warning, and wonders where that came from as well.
He gets up and walks to his kitchen to cook his evening meal. A bit later in the day than he’d like but who cares, he’s not operating to any schedule now. To think, a few weeks ago he’d have cooked his evening meal and NATE’s at the same time, he laughs to himself disdainfully; as if he actually cut up NATE’s meat for him so he could chew it more easily! For fucks sake, that’s a grown man, technically. He would never have to do that again and he didn’t miss that at all…
Definitely…
He’s sure of it…
Completely sure…
As he turns on his oven he checks his phone. Yet another missed call from James Nightingale. Another long voicemail. He listens to it the whole way through but stops concentrating after the first few sentences, it’s much like the others. James is still angry but then again James is a fucking psycho who’s always angry. But fair enough, NATE had cost him a spot in the Battle Bowl so of course he’s furious, Matthias would be angry too in the circumstances! Matthias had to own this one, he’d let NATE tag along for too long and a catastrophe like this was inevitable, he should’ve cut NATE loose ages ago, he should’ve never got involved with him in the first place, if he’d done that none of this would’ve happened.
It should have been Matthias who NATE cost a match, James didn’t ask for NATE to be around, Matthias knew he owed James for this one.
Matthias wasn’t worried about Nightingale being angry. He’d calm down before Clash and besides, the answerphone messages were just detailing in graphic form what he was gonna do to NATE and Matthias couldn’t care less about that any more. James could do whatever the fuck he wanted to NATE and it wouldn’t matter to Matthias, he didn’t care at all…
Matthias cooks his meal, he goes for scrambled eggs tonight for a change and the chicken is pre prepared so it doesn’t take long. He eats it and looks at his clock again: 21:18, it felt like it was later.
--------
I’ve been here for a year now Max and I’ve seen so many others the same as you. You come in expecting to fly to the top of Action Wrestling straight away, and for a few weeks you can make yourself stand out. You beat the other newcomers who
You did better than most, you at least got your hands on a title, my title I’ll remind you.
I still don’t know what happened when I stepped into the ring with Noris Cranley. I still believe I beat that nobody 998 times out of 1000, and yet somehow the two times I don’t happen twice in a row? But you did what I couldn’t and beat him, then you couldn’t do what I did and got beat by ZMac, the demon who couldn’t scare me.
You probably learnt the same thing as me. Being champion is easy, losing is hard.
I suffered for a bit. Things got in my head, I lost matches I should’ve won. You want to pick apart my win loss record in that period and think it means anything? Go for it Max.
I bounced back stronger, I beat people no one expected me to beat, I won the hardcore title, I’m in a better place for it now. Same when I lost that Hardcore title, here I am every single fucking week, showing my face and working to get to the top.
I don’t hide. I don’t pretend I have a poorly shoulder just cos’ I need a few weeks off to repair my ego because I lost. I stand up to be counted and make no excuses. I watched you last week bleating about how you couldn’t beat Graeme Baker because you were hurt, Max I fight hurt every fucking week and I’ve never used it as an excuse, Graeme Baker beat you because he’s better than you, simple as that. You know it, and you know everyone knows it, why act like everyone’s a fool?
I fell 30 foot off some bleachers onto concrete at Revolution, I spent the next week in the hospital with broken ribs and discharged myself to carry the useless lump Frank Lowe to a win over the US champion and his clown prince friend ONE WEEK later. Cry my a fucking river that your arm hurt, nearly pulled out it’s socket? Max, if it was pulled out its socket, pop it back in and get the fuck on with it.
I’ll bet any money at all that when I beat your ass on Monday night you’ll be gone a few more weeks. That shoulder will have magically popped back out, or you’ll have tweaked a muscle in your leg, or you’ll have broken a toenail or something and we’ll see you in another month when you can go through, one by one, a list of all the titles you’re not good enough to hold again and hope someone takes pity on you and gives you a shot.
I’ve seen your matches, you’re athletic and technically excellent, more so than me by a long way but bounce around the ring as much as you want. I’ve seen better and I’ve sodomised bigger ragdolls than you. It takes more than that to win in this game, you should know that. One run of losses, one hurt body part, if that’s the beginning of the end for you you were in the wrong game the whole time.
You had your build up, you had your main event, you’ve proven the real you can’t handle the grind of this place, but it’s over.
-------
Matthias checks his phone again. No more answerphone messages from James Nightingale, no Facebook notifications, no WhatsApp chat going on. Half 9 feels a bit early to go to bed, but what else to do? The thought of watching more TV feels a bit depressing for some reason, last night he’d gone for a late evening walk around the block but he wasn’t really feeling it tonight, it was pissing it down with rain and it was blowing a gale.
“What the hell did I do last Friday night?” Matthias asks himself. He remember quickly- last Friday night NATE had tried to get in his suitcase to travel to Alabama with him and at first he’d got angry with him for breaking his only suitcase, then he’d had to help him out, then he’d had to tell him not to travel to Sayle, which NATE of course ignored, or forgot he’d been told.
At least he wasn’t doing that again. Spending his time with that fool and his Mom who just wanted a babysitter. At least now he’s got his freedom from that.
This evening is at least way better than that…
...right?
Matthias decides he is going to bed. He tells himself it’s a smart idea, he’ll be able to get up extra early tomorrow to train in the gym when it’s quiet. Again.
-----
To some extent you’re just unlucky Max, I honestly hope that makes you feel a bit better when your arm hurts again on Tuesday. You’ve caught me just at the wrong time. The Lost Breed is on fire, Downfall is an historically dominant TV champion, James just beat FPV with my help, if it hadn’t been for NATE being the biggest joke on the planet we, I mean he, would’ve been World Heavyweight Champion at Timebomb. The Havoc Rumble is coming up, that’s a match that’s built for me.
Your hiatus has killed your momentum dead, I’m on fire.
I’m in such a great place, I can’t even tell you. I’ve freed myself of the shackles of that lead weight NATE and now there’s no distractions. Every waking hour I’m focussed on my goals now, I’ve been climbing steadily for the last year and I’m hitting my stride right now and you are gonna feel the brunt of that.
Physically, this is the best shape of my life. I’m benching weights you couldn’t even get off the ground, you can do your fancy flips into my all you want and it’ll be like jumping into a brick wall.
Mentally, I’m in the perfect place, definitely. I’ve learnt from my hard times, and I’ve come back stronger. I now have a one track mind about what I’m going to achieve, The Lost Breed is my vehicle to success and the likes of NATE are passengers I can’t take along for the ride.
All this week I’ve been at home and I’ve been 100% focussed on you. You’re not the end goal but you’re the next step and I’m not stumbling at all, now only am I winning this Monday, I’m sending a message.
Matthias Mintzel of a few weeks ago would’ve beaten you easily Max, Matthias Mintzel right now will kill you.
You’re confused about what your future holds, you’ve made that clear. But I’m not, I’m winning the Havoc Rumble and becoming World Champion with The Lost Breed by my side. Whilst you’re nursing your hurt arm and trying to decide whether you want to flounder in the mid card of Clash or CruiserClash, we’re gonna be dominating all of Action Wrestling.
-----
Matthias lies in bed with his eyes wide open. Of course he can’t sleep, it’s not even 10PM, why would he be tired? From the street below he can hear a distant hum of people out enjoying their Friday night, not enough to keep him awake alone, but he’s weirdly conscious of if.
James Nightingale’s answerphone messages replay in his head. He doesn’t know why, he’s heard them plenty of times and they’re not exactly subtle, he’s got the message. NATE’s going to get badly hurt, which he’s fine with.
NATE’s stupid face is there too, weirdly. That stupid confused but sad look he had when he fired him. NATE was too dumb to get scared but he was definitely scared when Nightingale got in his face and stood up to him.
The big dumb idiot, thank god he’s gone for good. Honestly, Matthias hopes NATE doesn’t show his face in Action Wrestling ever again. It’s not like he can wrestle and he’s in big danger.
After half an hour or so of tossing and turning and not getting anywhere near to falling asleep, Matthias swears and gets back up. He grumbles as he frustratedly stomps through into his lounge, sits back down on his couch and puts on another film. He picks a French film he’s seen many times called “La Haine”, it’s about a group of friends in a run down neighbourhood of Paris who’s lives all get ruined in the space of 24 hours because the system is just fundamentally against them and they really have no chance to get out. Again, not a cheery topic but for some reason Matthias just feels like it tonight. It’s shot completely in black and white which is what he instinctively feels like looking at right now.
Distracted by the film, he at last falls asleep.