Midcard?

[The Rogue]

Friday March 30th
Spring Breakage Supershow:

Backstage in one of the corridors, the camera cuts back to Timmy Brown who is wearing a black top, with “Electric: written in a lightning bolt design, yellow in color. Justice Young is standing with him, with the mic in hand, ready to interview him after the reveal of his new protégé, Micky O’Reilly.

Young: Timmy Brown, mo…

Brown: Mr. Brown, to you.

Young: My apologies. Mr. Brown. Mom…

Brown: As in former ASW Canadian Heavyweight Champion. World Tag Team Champion. Hardcore Champion. Stables Champion. And former OWF PDA Champion. Legend. Future Hall of Famer. Mr Timmy “The Electric” Brown.

Young: I am humbled, sir. Moments ago, you shocked the world by announcing that you were the secret sponsor or one, Micky O’Reilly. May I ask for your….

Jessica: Uncle Tim.

Brown: Jess, what are you doing here?

Jessica: I have a bone to pick with you.

Brown: Can’t you see I am busy.

Young: I can come back.

Brown: You stay there. This wont take long.

Jessica: How could you? He’s looked up to you for four years and now all of a sudden you’re behind the person making his life a living hell for over a month? How dare you?

Brown: How dare I? Hold your tongue, Jess. First off he turned his back on me. After everything I had done for him. He would not be where he is now if it weren’t for me.

Jessica: You’re right. If O’Reilly hadn’t gotten into his head he’d still be the Champion.

Brown: That’s neither here nor there. I taught him to never look passed the opponent in front of him.

Jessica: And what about the New York incident?

Brown: I have no idea about that.

Jessica: And tonight? The secret? Airing my personal business on camera for any FGA fan to see?

Brown: I didn’t think of it like that. Either way it was on him. He got you pregnant and he made you abort it.

Jessica: He wore protection! And as for making me? We were 16! We both had our whole lives in front of us and weren’t ready. Yet he said he would find a normal job and support me. It was my choice. Mine!

Brown: Jess, I….

Jessica: Now you owe me and you owe him. So here’s what we are going to do.

Brown: I am listening.

Jessica: You will resume your position of being Mike’s mentor.

Brown: Alright but what about tonight? He needs to know that I…

Jessica: Tonight is his problem. He knew what he was getting into when he asked for this. He had to do it, despite my begging because the world needed to see he wasn’t afraid.

Brown: He has to do it on his own then.

Jessica: Yes. He won’t win. He knows that. Off camera he told me. Micky is the most dangerous man in the FGA. They will not ever have another like him. Street Fight means he can get away with being as dangerous as he wants and it will all be legal. Mikey is the best wrestler in this company. A lot of that is credit to you. But something else. Love him or hate him, he has the iron will of a champion. There will never be another like him either. He will not win. But tonight the world will see just how much heart he has. I myself won’t be able to watch and it will be dangerous for me to be at ring side. But after the match you go out there, and you help him. Make sure he doesn’t suffer any more damage than he does in the match. And then put the rabid dog down.

Brown: You have my word.

Jessica: I was never here. I never said any of this. You, Justice can not put this up until after the Supershow is released. Put it on the website. But not yet.

Brown: You heard her?

Young: Sure thing, sir.

Brown: Good. Now get lost!

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His concussion is quite severe. It’s good that you brought him in. He’ll be in and out of consciousness for the next few days. Also, we’ve looked at his ribs on the x-ray and two of them are cracked. It may take some time to heal, so I suggest he take the next month of two off. No, absolutely not. That’s out of the question. I understand that but… No, you don’t. The next few months are vital. There’s a bigger picture. Do not give any medical advice aside from making him better with this. I will deal with the rest.

I think you caught me in a coma. And no one’s ever gunna. Make me come back to this. World again.

Mikey. I love you. I wish you hadn’t have asked for that stupid match. When you wake up you better be alright. Your ribs and head… Oh, Mikey. Why? Why did you have to prove anything? You’d already proven everything by being the first ever Champion. All because of this you lost your Title and now you’re battling a serious concussion. Please be ok. Don’t let the doctor be wrong. He said you will be fine, so be fine. Be better than fine. I love you.

I kinda like it in a coma. Cos no one’s ever gunna. Oh. Make me come back to this. World again.

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^{Some dreams are good. Like, I remember a dream I had when I was young. Combat was always something I enjoyed. Something I could succeed with, despite the odds stacked up against me. I used to watch karate kid just wanting to be Daniel Larusso. The skinny kid who went from zero to hero and defied the odds, winning the tournament. I did that. I lived it. Some dreams are not. Certain things in life create a demon inside you. Odds that realistically cannot be overcome. They make every move you make labored. You can’t concentrate. You know you cannot defy these odds yet you find you cannot surrender. If you lose you must lose like a man. This too, I have lived. The nightmare is only half over. After any great war, we suffer casualties. Some physical. Some mental. This part of the nightmare must still be endured. But still I fight. With everything inside of me, I fight. Any obstacle that can be overcome will be.}

Slipping farther and farther away, it’s a miracle how long we can stay in a world our minds created in a world that’s full of shit……..

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April 4th blog taken from MichaelTomkins.rtbs.com:

Finally been discharged from the hospital. I don’t know what is hurting me more at this point, my ribs or my ego. Let’s face the brutal honesty of my situation for a second. There was no way in hell I was ever going to defeat Micky “The Slammer” O’Reilly in a Street Fight. I don’t know why I asked for the match in the first place. That’s a lie, I do. Michael Tomkins does not hide. He may be the company’s favorite employee because he is better than anyone else on the roster and fills those arena seats every week, but that doesn’t mean he has to hide behind them. You question his balls and he will not back down, even if he can’t win. Michael Tomkins is a man that everyone can look up to because he will go down with the sinking ship every time. Now, however, he has proven that, so he won’t have to get into another unviable situation. The odds are now in his favor. Normal matches and no Achilles heel means that the best damn wrestler in the FGA can go back to doing what he does best. And if everyone thinks that a two month winning streak was impressive, just you wait for the next one. Micky O’Reilly was responsible for both of my losses. Blaine Harrison knows that better than anyone. But the issue behind Micky and I is resolved. He beat me. And then Timmy and I kicked the shit out of him. Simple. And now everyone knows what it takes to beat me. How many chair shots did I endure and still manage to kick out from? That takes fortitude that no one else has. One man comes close though. Anyone who thinks they have a chance at defeating Blaine at the moment is clearly mistaken. Jacques Mercier is a tough opponent but he will not dethrone Blaine. The “Metal Heart” is in his own world, living off the high of being on top. He will be impossible for any normal man to put down. This is why I find it a personal insult that I have not yet received my Title shot. Who else deserves it? No one, not more than me. And I am the only person on that wrestling level. O’Reilly may have beaten me in a Street Fight but in a wrestling match things would have been a lot different. Blaine Harrison and I have a score to settle and in time it will be settled. Mark my words. But now I have a new opponent. One I have never fought before. Mr. Brave. However now he will be simply number one, as in the first victim of my new streak. Until next time.

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Lying to Jessica was the hardest thing I have ever had to do, but Tim said it was essential. Things were back how they started, and so Tim’s word was law. I had proved that after time, without him I would fail. Not in the ring but with my managerial mistakes. Getting into it with O’Reilly was the worst mistake. Not concentrating on my match with Blaine was my second. But with all that aside, I was not prepared to make those same mistakes. If Micky wanted any retribution for the attack we made, then it would be on my terms. In the ring. Standard rules. That’s where I wield home field advantage. Wrestling is my forte and I cannot be beaten fairly. I proved that. Three times in one night, that was proven. So Tim telling me to lie about my ribs was the way we would go. I was cleared as far as he was concerned and the FGA need not even know about any of it. Tim said he would make sure I didn’t suffer so he’d come out with a towel for professional purposes. Still, I didn’t sweat any of it. I knew my opponent coming up sounded like a Native American crossed with a condom. I had seen him in the ring and I had heard him chat. Confident in his abilities, yes. But now he had his biggest challenge to date and all I saw was a bug waiting to be squashed.

Jessica was on her way out accompanied by her Aunt Grace, patting me softly on the back as she was in a hurry. She didn’t see my grimace of pain which was good. I saw Tim shoot me a scowl as the girls left us alone.

Tim: You’ll be fine for Next Wednesday but for now can you please control your facial expressions. If she knows you are hurt you will never hear the end of it.

Mike: Sorry, Tim. It just smarts a little. I can keep it under control. But if any of this leaks out, Brave might have a slight advantage going in to our match.

Tim: You will be fine. It’s a squash match, kid. It will be over in five minutes. Easy.

Mike: I hope you are right, boss.

Tim: As I said. Don’t sweat it. Things are finally back to how they should have been. With me in your corner, you can’t lose. Your debut winning streak will seem like nothing in comparison to what you have in store for the FGA.

Mike: Back to normal. And Grace and you?

Tim: It’s as it was. I am clean now. That was just a reaction to everything going sour. Grace brought me back to the light and her and Jessica together talked me round. We’re a family. Grace loves Jess and respects her choice. She was a little envious of the fact that you managed to give me hope where she failed before, but the timing wasn’t right with her back then. I wasn’t coping too well. You reminded me of me. The world in front of you. Talent. Drive. Together, we will go far.

Mike: Alright, so long as she doesn’t try and poison me while I sleep or anything.

Tim: Won’t happen.

Mike: New York?

Tim: It’s safe to say it was her, yes. But she was punishing you for turning on me. Misunderstanding, kid. We’re all good now.

Mike: Alright, Tim. Water under the bridge then. The road to my Title is ahead of us. Walk it with me.

Tim: Deep. I like it.

Mike: You have no idea. It’s mine. I will get it back.

Tim: Keep thinking like that and you will.

Mike: Now, I guess I will cut a promo.

Tim: I have the old camera set up, just as before and your flights booked for Tuesday along with a hotel just for two nights.

Mike: Things are simple again. Though you know it’s in Jersey, right?

Tim: I was just making sure your concussion wasn’t lingering. Alright, let’s do this then?

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The scene opens to the original room of Michael Tomkins’ promotional shoots. Colorful room. FGA logo printed on the wall. It stays like this for a few moments, before Michael Tomkins walks into view, wearing a black Dolce and Gabana suit. An arrogant smile highlights his face, as he struts into the shoot. He turns slowly, so that the camera takes in all 360 degrees of him.

Mike: Absolute perfection. And damn it looks good. For those of you who recognize the guy before you, yes, it is the first ever FGA Heavyweight Champion, Michael Tomkins. The Raise-The-Bar-Superstar himself. Only guy to win three matches in one night in the company. That guy. The best wrestler in Frontier. And he is reeling from the other kind of streak after his phenomenal seven match winning streak. But clearly my attitude change hasn’t affected how the company sees me. I am the guy that carried the whole company on my shoulders for two months to build its reputation so we could tour. The highlight of every show. The most feared and respected man on the roster. Why? Well they want me to resume my winning ways so that by the time they see it fit, I will get my shot at the Champion. The fist step in this is beginning my second winning streak. A longer and more respectable one. Seven is a good number. No one had yet replicated it, and I am sure they won’t. Such things are only done by the highest caliber of performers. And there are only two people on the roster who qualify in that category. Both of them have held the FGA Gold. Blaine knows I respect him more than anyone else on the roster. He knows he did what no one, even himself, thought that he could do. Blaine rose to the challenge of challenges and defeated me in a wrestling match. What Micky did, that wasn’t exactly an achievement. And anyone that saw the match saw what lengths he had to go to just to beat me. All the stuff outside the ring. The multiple chair shots. 1...2... Shoulder up. It took Murphy’s Law onto a chair, a move that has already claimed victims on its own, to put me away. That’s something in my world, you can not utilize to your advantage. There is no other way of doing it. Next Time “The Slammer” and I meet, I will be the one with my hand raised.

A moments pause. His eyebrows raise. A half smile spreads up his left cheek.

Mike: So, Jonny Brave. How you feeling? After your good friend Tony Jones told you that you had no road blocks ahead of you in your goal of being a future FGA Champion, you run straight into a barricade. No way around it. No door. It’s too high. So what do you do? My suggestion is to turn on your heel and walk back the way you came. Go home. Since the FGA started it has become clear from the get go that some people that thought they were good elsewhere just didn’t make the grade here. Scott Reave. Jack Flener. Just to name a few. Frontier is where the real warriors fight. It’s not a game. It’s not a playground. It’s the thunder dome. But Mad Max himself couldn’t carry his own against the likes of us. Look around you at the guys who have made it and held on. The Harvard Connection. All American athletes who know exactly how to execute an attack. Jared James. The ultimate underdog who came up against the highest of odds and nine times out of ten came out on top. The Slammer. Love him or hate him. He’s the most dangerous man in wrestling. He had the bollocks to go straight to the top and come out looking ten times the man he would have been otherwise. Jacques Mercier. The true wild card. If you can beat him, odds are on your day you could beat anybody. And then… Blaine Harrison. The only man who can, and will, ever say that they defeated me in a WRESTLING match. The man on top. If you somehow manage to smuggle yourself off your gaming reservation and receive a shot at him, you will not take the FGA gold home. No chance. Blaine is better than you. That’s why he’s the Champion. You might come out and say the same in regards to me, but we all know that isn’t entirely true. I have been a pro for three months and am already the most talked about and most celebrated man in the company. And given my shot, I will take the Title back and be a two time Champion. And that’s how it will stay. The Rogue will keep the Title until he retires, dies, or the company merges with another to create a national circuit. Hang on one second.

Michael pauses to loosen his tie, before readjusting his suit jacket, neatly. When he is satisfied, he resumes.

Mike: I realize you aren’t Native American. I was merely mocking your stupid name. Chicago, huh? Not had the misfortune of going there. Don’t like wind too much and as ol’ Dorris Day sang, it ain’t got what we got. And until the FGA graces the presence of that horrid state, I have no plans of ever going. I’m a NJ kinda guy, so the territory is good here. Where else can I find the very best in competition? No where. Ask Jack Flener. Frontier is my domain. And as such, you will see despite my recent setbacks, I will still be sat firmly at the top of the power rankings, only being short one Championship Belt to put a bold dot on my exclamation point. And that will come in time. All I have to do is swat away all the flies in the mean time. Starting with you. You may be fresh and willing to prove yourself, with nothing real to lose and everything to gain, but realistically, Brave, you have no real chance. I am better than you. I’m better than everyone. But if you take the fight to me, you’ll see what many other men before you have seen. You’ll get a firm introduction to my left boot as you get a true taste of greatness. I won’t waste time with pleasantries. You’re in my way. So I will use full force to correct this. And right now, aside from having just been defeated in the most painful night of my life, I have bigger beef. The FGA has basically spat in my face after everything I have done for them. There first ever Champion is fighting Johnny Nobody in the second match of the evening. The tried and tested Main Eventer is cruising with the under card. What sort of unjust joke is that? I’m grade A hanging around with the remedial class here. Are they trying to be funny or get my blood boiling in frustration before they put me in the ring with Blaine again. Either they want me to kill him or get some hot tempered that I lose again. The first is the only viable option for me. Still. I guess I will take it as a hand out as I feed off of their scraps. I will take the easy victory, Brave. And then any early momentum you gained so far will have its own Lights turned Out. You catch my drift? You are out of you depth. Regardless of how you look at things. When all is said and done, it takes just three seconds to win a match, just three. And they belong to me. Always…. From this point forwards. So. When you are dazed and confused, out on your back, staring up at the lights; make no mistake in knowing that the man standing above you as you faintly hear “Hey Ho Let’s Go” playing off in the distance, with his arms raised in victory is only the first ever FGA Heavyweight Champion, legend in the now, Michael “The Rogue” Tomkins…. Maybe I will sign an autograph at the end of the night. Hey, sell it on eBay, it might buy your ticket home.

Tomkins flashes one cheesy grin, as the scene fades into nothingness…