Staying the course, no matter the stakes.

A weight room is possibly the most overplayed room used by wrestlers. I’ve seen them used as the setting for an obnoxious amount of promos; and have been guilty of taking the lazy way out to cut my share of them back in the day. These days, I haven’t pulled my phone out to cut promos on opponents nearly as much, since I invested in a drone cam startup that has blossomed nicely – it doesn’t hurt to have them at your disposal, either, in case inspiration strikes. As I sat in a private training studio in my home of Manhattan, though, I was suddenly struck by the simplicity of the gym promo. There was something primal and raw about it that must appeal to most wrestlers. It’s you on a bench, or mat, or maybe even an exercise bike – I’ve heard horror stories of treadmill promos gone terribly awry. The way I began them was after a workout, the preparation for my mind to shift into a gear befitting the squared circle. I was focused on my upcoming match, or matches, during my workout, ran through different scenarios as I honed specific muscle groups. When I completed the session, I’d take out my phone and the red light of the camera became my center. From there, it was a simple matter of speaking the truth that many have learned to respect, if not trust, over twenty years. Parts of three decades, I realized just recently.



I haven’t missed the setting of these spots, but I had a pang of nostalgia for what they evoked from within me. For all that I’ve achieved since my return, and for all the strides the Game Changers have made in Level Up Wrestling? I know there’s another gear in me. I can feel it in my core, and in my mind. With the return of my brother, Lazarus, I’ve found myself peering into the past for something I’ve left behind, and can reclaim with fervor and an evolved perspective. I’m searching for what that is…



Once I find it, may the gods show mercy on my opponents.



For I will not.

---

Following Super Adventure Island, I was a mix of jubilation and anticipation as the medical team evaluated me. This wasn’t my idea, by the way – I would never trust these mooks to give me a tactful checkup. It was that damaged bastard, Trent Steel, who forced my hand. He insisted I allow the Level Up medical team to do an evaluation, or he wouldn’t clear me to compete. I was going to have my own doctors do the real checkup during the week, anyway, as was my custom by now. In short, Trent was flexing his power, and wasted my time as I sat on the table with lights flashed at me and questions that should be on Are You Smarter Than A Fifth Grader being administered to ‘test’ my cognition.



The only way I benefitted was in being afforded time to reflect in the moment on what had transpired.

As far as the jubilation? I had risen to the latest challenger to my Power Championship, Kat Jones. For all my confidence in my abilities, it would have been foolhardy to think that match would have been any easier than the prior defenses I had made. Lord Raab, with whom Kat and I had crossed paths – also to her detriment, heh… – had been a raging monster. For gods’ sake, I had thrown him off the second floor balcony and the man kicked out! It was obscene, and obscenely impressive to tangle with the first of the Raabs who had ever crossed me. When you’ve been in this industry as long as I have, though, you don’t shrink in the face of even a lethal monster. If I did, then I wouldn’t have made it this long in professional wrestling. I would have been the conquest of others, rather than be enacting the conquests.



Then there was Ziggy Morgan, who ironically was now the latest member of the Game Changers. That was another matter to be addressed, and one Mister Blizzard, ISAAC, Drake, and myself fully intended on prioritizing at EXP 28. However, Ziggy did give me a test, being a different type of opponent than I had been accustomed to facing in Level Up. For the gamut of personalities the wrestlers of this company possessed – in some cases, multiple within the same damned person! – my path wouldn’t take me through them all. My position as Power Champion, of course, brought along a certain mentality in the opposition I faced. With Ziggy, however, I found his wrestling to be a little more sound, and his psychology, in certain aspects, a little too close to my own. It was a test I passed, mainly through winning the mind over muscle competition. I mean, who am I kidding? I muscle-busted his cowpoke ass, too, but that wasn’t the primary battle.



“Larry, we’re going to have to clean this wound to patch up tonight. There’s too much blood loss to allow you to leave it vulnerable to infection,” one of the doctors proclaimed to me.



Perfect, I have to trust these Resident Idiots to stitch me up. I quietly nodded in consent, as if Trent left me a choice, and considered how many of them played The Medic in Team Fortress 2, and were subsequently killed by me.



Wait, before I was so rudely interrupted I had been mid-thought. Anyway, those defenses had all been painful. I left them bloodied, tested in different ways, pushed towards my limit – and, ultimately, with my hand raised and the Power Championship in lockstep.



Kat Jones had still been the one that pushed me nearest to my limit. She was known as the WildKat and showed it, most glaringly on my face. On top of yet another different wrestling methodology, she presented an angstful fury that she wrongfully placed blame of me for having created. I’ll take credit for setting a fire under her ass, drawing out a version of her that no one in Level Up had seen, nor been able to procure from within her. I didn’t mind doing so, even knowingly, because I bring the fire of a thousand vengeful suns. I’ve simply gathered a more prudent awareness of how to best channel that level of cosmic fire – you don’t learn some valuable things from years upon decades of brutal experience. Unfortunately, that hadn’t helped me with the weapons backed with the force I had wrought from Kat Jones…




“All done, you’re good to go, Larry. Next month, maybe we should schedule this in advance? We’ve got a group of WaLuigis waiting behind you.”





It was to the point I knew I’d require a bandage to cover the amount of stitches coming. I must have not heard them mention the STAPLES!



“Sure, let’s say, the day after I find a legal way of preventing your boss from forcing me to tolerate your incompentence,” I told that fool, and brushed off the insinuation.



Which brings me to the anticipation. I know that coming back to Cindy, the woman I married and promised I would take good care of myself. The one whose condition for my return – the only one she really held firm on to the end – was that I didn’t come home to our children, and to her…



“Bandaged and bruised all over! That’s the way you went out of the ring when you first left,” she would remind me. “For the better part of a year, you would come home from the road every few weeks, and look like you were auditioning for a punching bag. I don’t mean that lightly, either, Larry. When you look that way, to me? It said you were at the end of your rope, and if I couldn’t stop you, then Logan, and now Morgan, may not have a father that I even recognize – physically and mentally.”



She began to wipe tears from her eyes, and at the time, I was assured she would never consent to my leaving if I didn’t make it genuine and upfront that I was ready to handle my body with care.



“Here we go, Cindy, more of this trying to throw your emotional weight around to influence my decision,” I scoffed and stood up from one of our plush sofas, and shot her a glare. “Cut the shit, Cindy! Don’t you think I know how to handle my body?! I’ve been training my ass off to make sure I could keep up, and then some. So unless you think my mind is fading fast, I’m going to need you to trust me.”



Hey, I said genuine and upfront. We did manage to hash thing out, of course, in a more tactful conversation. Nonetheless, this wasn’t exactly keeping to my word, and it was tough to see the follow-up conversation going real far in my favor. As I pushed off the table and took the Power Championship in hand, I exited the room. The anticipation of seeing my family wasn’t all for gleeful adulations of a successful title defense. Unfortunately for them, they would need to accept my direction is not changing its trajectory. Not yet, not until I made it to TriForce Heroes as Power Champion. Then, and only then, may I shed the title that I had taken to a next level of stardom, pulling it up to the higher elevation of rankings, where I sat on a throne of opponent conquests. From there, the Power Championship can be relieved of service in lieu of the incoming TriForce Championship, which will elevate me to the Main Event of Final Fantasy II. That is the path I remain on course, and no level of familial concern is going to nurture me away from my place as Power Champion.



For Cindy, after she sees this most recent damage, the melancholy of seeing the Power Championship still resting on our mantle, will be condemning. I already know it, and it will mark the beginning of the stretch run for my holding this title. It will be a threefold war…



I’ll be fighting opponents in the ring.

I’ll be defending from Trent Steel and his efforts to break my influence on Level Up Wrestling.

I’ll be warding off the concerns of my family, who believe I’m not aware of my limits, and therefore don’t respect where my limits truly reside.



Hard Mode Activated. Let’s fucking go!

---

On the Humble Throne I sit, with torches and pikes to either side of my regal seat. To my left, the spear of the pike has a finely-crafted molding of Lord Raab’s masked face and head. Next to it, a replication, except Kat Jones’ head is on the pike. To my right, a pike with the head of “El Caballo Diablo” Ziggy Morgan. Fitting, a couple of devious and foiled collaborators on one side. On the other, a lone gunmen who couldn’t place his bullets accurately enough. All were humbled as I stood, still the Power Champion, above them. I look to the camera and realize with a smirk, none of these dense Level Updogs will understand the significance, or the psychology of what makes people truly tick. I possess that expertise, and as the drone cam’s record light went on, I filled that headspace.



“So, Super Adventure Island was an unnecessarily gory, horror island trip for me. Except at the end of this humble story – Jason wins. It’s true, I didn’t come away without a donation of my own flesh and blood. But as we all know, my Power division plays no favorites. We only play for keeps.”



I frown, thinking back to the memory of Kat Jones coming at me with that grater, then push it out of mind.



“Interestingly, while I campaigned for Trent Steel to have ISAAC and Drake as our Game Changers’ representatives for this show, and highlight the team that will dominate the Multiplayer tournament. But of course, it figures Trent would take that to mean I was avoiding wrestling on EXP 28. Granted, I should have been given the night off, after successfully defending the hottest and hottest trending Level Up title after Super Adventure Island. NOT the Final Boss Champion, Duncan “Commando” Shephard, who Trent Steel tried to boost with the help of not one… not two… but THREE other participants in a match for the coveted Final Boss Championship. Then, he pilfered a stipulation that DEFINES the Power Championship – MY Championship – and turns it into a Final Boss Championship stipulation?”



My mouth curves into a smirk.



“I mean, Trent… acknowledge me as the most important, hottest Champion in Level Up without telling me you’re acknowledging me as the best title holder in this company. You don’t need to steal that particular match type, you lousy prick. Meanwhile, you put me against Kat Jones, who is every bit as good as any of those Final Boss contenders, and with Power Rules. We still went out there and put on the more scintillating, eyeball raking match. So you force me to compete at EXP 28. Thanks, Level Up The Medics.”



I scowl and look to one side, then the other, at the pikes. I find the camera again and feel the hate channeling.



“In fact, I’m amused that you somehow realized you would need to make it look fair that you have me compete at this show, and sacrificed one of the other champions to take the brunt of the blow. You actually went and gave Lord Raab an opportunity to maim Duncan Shepard, and on top of that, giving Buster Gloves back-to-back title defenses? That must be quite a bitter pill for him to swallow, I’d imagine. If Buster were smart, he’ll wake up to the realization that Trent isn’t the steady leader most of you want to, for some damn reason, is the case. Yet, I still draw a silver lining. For I’m facing Sloane Taylor, the Sky Queen herself. It’s quite a pleasant surprise, in fact, to find that was the best Trent could get me for this forced competition.”



I look wryly at the camera, running a hand through my hair, and laugh.



“I bet Trent has no clue, even, for what match he truly booked. This is the Sloane Taylor who happens to also be the PWV Disavowed Champion. The title that mirrors my own Power Championship. Yet, somehow and someway – because Trent is a dumbass – this is NOT a Power Rules match. How about that wrestling awareness from Trent Steel, folks. But regardless, Trent, I don’t anticipate Sloane nor I will hesitate to bend the rules on the fly, somehow evading the referee in the process. That cracked… out staff.”



I put my hands together and steeple the fingers.



“Sloane, plain and simple, this will be another battle for me, after Super Adventure Island. After Kat Jones, though, I’m hard pressed to believe you can throw much more fire at me than the WildKat already slung. If this were a game of Team Fortress Two, you would be a Scout… speed, agility, hitting quick and evading. But you would be targeted accordingly, accounting for the abilities you possess, and taken by a grand explosion of epic proportions. You would be taken out by the Tactilizing Demoman, who would adjust and adapt just as he has to the most wretched of this company’s offerings. I’ve survived them all, humbled them all, and there is no way I’m going to allow you to change that. Why would I have anything less than confidence in the strength of knowledge I possess on you. From UGWC to PWV and now here, I’ve been watching you, the better half of Sloane & Sebastian, the pop duo. Truthfully, I understand the potential threat and the real acts of violence you’ve demonstrated. I know you’re here to play hard ball, and no gear.”



“Unfortunately, I’m not about to let you derail the Game Changers, riding a wave led by the TactWagon, and we are sailing on course to our Combat Evolved. So no, Sloane, I don’t underestimate you…”



“But I don’t underestimate myself, nor the Game Changers. We still stand, and will still command respect. By blood or by wrestling, I’ll show you that.”



“Stay Humble, Sloane.”