Post by Deleted on Mar 3, 2013 16:31:26 GMT -6
If someone told you the man sitting outside the RIMAC Arena (located on the campus of the University of California at San Diego) was nothing more than a student, you'd likely keep walking. Same if he was a hobo, though he was a little too well-dressed for that description. Instead of dusty, dirty t-shirts and worn out jeans, this man sat in khaki slacks and a polo shirt; light blue.
No, this unlucky soul is – was, rather, the head road agent of EXODUS Pro Wrestling, Jimmy Riley. Riley had spent the second half of 2012 wrestling in Tennessee for the Universal Wrestling League, before leaving with several others (Iron King competitor Jonathan Collins included) to help form EXODUS. But...instead of simply resuming his in ring career, Riley was relegated to road agent duty. The main drawback to that? A rule instituted by EXODUS owner Rufus Frost; no staff can lay an offensive hand on a roster member. That...would be the reason Jimmy Riley was sitting outside the RIMAC; minutes earlier he charged the ring to help save one of his best friends, new EXODUS Champion Fiona Rourke.
He glanced down at the baseball bat on the ground next to him, making a mental note to get it returned to Tiami Tyler.
In the ring, he traded punches with LEGION's charismatic mouthpiece, Kliff Ulysses. That proved to be too much for Frost to ignore, resulting in the firing of Jimmy Riley...and the scene before us. Jimmy sighed to...himself, seeing as nobody was around, and glanced at his phone. Twitter had lit up at his firing, with roster members pouring out support for him. His eyebrows arched; Jimmy didn't expect this kind of reaction. The only other notification came from his new girlfriend; Maggie Rourke, the cousin of Fiona, who was backstage checking on her cousin. She assured Jimmy that as soon as she could, the two would be together.
At this point, Jimmy would take any company other than the baseball bat.
Lost in all of the hoopla that was both his job with EXODUS and his travels around the world (carrying the banner of EXODUS despite not being a contracted wrestler) was another search Jimmy Riley was eager to continue. Since last fall, Jim Riley Sr. had been declared missing. This wouldn't be a big deal to Jimmy, who was estranged from his father after discovering him cheating on his mother Alexis, except for one little hangup.
A hangup named Alistair Moore.
Moore, a businessman in the LEGION stronghold of Deep Ellum, Texas, had entered into a deal with the elder Riley several years ago. Unfortunately for both men, the deal (which Jimmy was still in the dark on) went south, and Jim Riley left Ellum, never planning to return. This was a matter between the two of them until Jimmy ventured into Ellum with Jonathan Collins and Fiona Rourke. There he was confronted with Alistair Moore's lawyer, an Everett Williams. Williams was the person who informed Jimmy of the deal, and warned him to leave and never return.
...He never really planned on going back to that hell hole.
But only a few weeks ago, when Jimmy prepared to head to England for the pro wrestling FRONTIER Open House battle royal, he was confronted with two...ah, “associates” of Moore and Williams, sent to inform him. Specifically to inform him of his new duty; the debt owed by his father was now transferred to him in absence. That reignited his search; Jimmy Riley may not want to speak to his father, but he doesn't want to be responsible for his father's mistakes and debts.
That is why he was, again, in Cleveland, his hometown. Jim Riley was the owner of a used car lot, one which Jimmy had been to before, finding the office an utter mess. Today, upon his return...
“...It's all exactly the same.”
The office was the same mess. Exact same. Every paper exactly where it was when he left. The business had shut down clearly, but the lot remained vacant. Jimmy sat down at the computer, logging on to see if there was any sign of his father's whereabouts there. While it booted up, he shuffled through the papers on the desk, straightening them up. One in particular caught his eye.
“Moore...alright, let's see if we can find anything out about this deal.”
The computer turned up little; the last e-mail sent from the computer was back in July, just when Jimmy was going back into wrestling...and the last time he was regularly in Cleveland. The paper, on the other hand, gave a bit more insight.
Alistair Moore was more than just some executive; according to what Jimmy was able to dig up, Moore was the second most powerful man in Ellum, behind Hal Snyder. Hal's name stood out like a beacon to Riley, with his followers terrorizing EXODUS Pro as the group LEGION. Snyder and Moore essentially ran Ellum with two iron fists, controlling all they could see (and most of what they couldn't). That power made much more information hard to come by.
Unfortunately...it looked like Jimmy Riley would soon be returning to Deep Ellum. In the meantime, however, a trip to Tonga lay in his future.
“The Isle of Tonga. You know an interesting fact? The King of Tonga sent some of his strongest warriors to Japan back in the 70's to learn the art of sumo wrestling.”
Jimmy Riley was sitting in his current home; Anaheim, California, specifically the house belonging to Jonathan Collins. That...was not who he was across from, however.
“Yeah? How did they do?”
Madison Collins is the daughter of Jonathan and his late wife, Helena Benes-Collins. Jimmy was tasked with looking after her while Jon went on a brief trip out of the house; he hadn't told either of them where he was going.
“A couple ended up becoming pro wrestlers over there instead. Not really anyone notable, just something I found out while looking up info on it.”
“Oh, that's pretty cool. So you're going to Tonga to wrestle, Mr. Jimmy?”
Jimmy nodded, shoveling a spoonful of cereal into his mouth. As he chewed, he contemplated exactly how to address his Iron King opponents. Sure there were some Phoenix Wrestling regulars; Michael Norcia, Juan Ramirez, and Natalie Burrows...not to mention his first round opponent, Santana. There were also outsiders like him; Orphan of ACW, and two APW competitors in The Guv'Nor and Buckson Gooch.
Truth be told, Jimmy felt a little undermatched for some of them; he's not an expert in a martial art like Burrows, and he doesn't carry the immense size and power that Gooch wields. All he brought to the table was a wrestling style that, thankfully, now emphasized his striking over his original skill set of slow, semi-power based wrestling. Well...that and a little bit of desperation. Being out of a job meant finding a new way to put money and food on the table, no matter how much Jonathan was providing him.
“Who are you wrestling?”
Madison's words jolted Jimmy out of his thoughts, and he loudly swallowed what was left of his bite.
“Ah...Santana. He's a Phoenix Wrestling guy; little, but dangerous. High tolerance for pain, and a wrestling style that, if he chooses to use it, is painful. Worse yet, it's special rules.”
“Yeah, daddy mentioned that. He can only use submissions!”
Madison was intelligent beyond her years, particularly in wrestling. Using her dad's vast tape library, she had become versed in multiple promotions, styles, and cultures.
“That might work well for him, but I'm only able to use strikes. Santana's not above using his fists. I don't imagine your dad's ever let you watch a Taipei Death Match, has he?”
Madison shook her head vigorously.
“I don't even know what that is!”
“That's probably for the best, but it involves gluing broken glass to your hands. It's the kind of match Santana probably dreams about, and he got to live it out.”
The little girl winced at the thought of what even that brief description put in her mind.
“Yeah. So he gets free reign to use his fists against me next week. But they put me in this bracket for a reason.”
Madison nodded as she picked up her bowl to finish off the milk left inside.
“Your elbow's really good! It'll knock him out for sure!”
Jimmy's nod was nearly imperceptible.
“I sure hope so, kiddo.”
“I won't lie, I kinda wanted to throw up a little bit when you did that.”
It's later in the day; Jonathan had returned and taken his daughter out for the afternoon, along with Fiona. Jimmy was left alone for a few hours as he waited on Maggie to show up. He figured this time was best spent addressing his primary concern.
“Shouldn't be surprised, though. You seem like the kind of guy that'd glue glass to your fists and then punch a guy in the privates. Stand-up character there, Santana.”
He did make the effort to change into some regular clothes, rather than the pajamas he had worn for the better part of the day. The old “Hudson River Wrestling” t-shirt had seen better days, but Jimmy decided it was better than the EXODUS Pro shirts he had lining the closet.
“I'll admit, I'm not one for that kind of violence. At least, not the kind with extra accoutrements. That's equipment for the slow folks out there; glass, light tubes, barbed wire. None of it fits me. Me? I prefer these.”
With his left hand, Jimmy carries only a balled fist. His right arm, however, is cocked to show his elbow; the crux of his Six Hour Shift corkscrew elbow.
“Bare hands. I know you're familiar with using them, Santana. You've spent plenty of time in a place where hands are all you could have, no matter how many items you turned into weapons. You're prepared for this kind of match...this fight. Let's not mince words, because you're going to make sure this is a fight. I have to get into that mentality, because I know you're not going to have any problem seeing it as one.”
Riley shifts his weight, his arms dropping back down to his sides before coming up in front of him, hands meeting around his sternum.
“There's no denying how dangerous you are, Santana. You'll take any risks, fight any battle that you think you can win, and with the power that EMPIRE has granted you, there's few you won't be able to win. Me? I'm a man with nothing, career wise.”
Jimmy looks down, his face showing signs of past disappointments.
“I've been in big tournaments before. I've gone through the gauntlet, I've reached that pinnacle...only to fall short. More than once. But that was a long time ago. Now? I'm...virtually nobody. I travel from show to show, looking for victory but finding only defeat. Frontier in England. Warped in Phoenix. Now I've even been fired from a position that never called for me to be in a ring. Where does that leave me when we step inside a ring in Tonga?”
Now Riley's face rises, a steely determination in his green eyes as he looks at the camera.
“It leaves me with nothing to lose. For you? You have the possibility of losing again. Of falling short on your home turf. Being the weak link of EMPIRE. Having this big success, winning the Taipei Death Match only to turn around and squander the momentum handed to you. For me? If I lose? I move on to the next stop. On to the next chance at victory. You, Santana? You have everything to lose in this match.”
Jimmy can't help but smile just a little bit.
“Me? I've got everything to gain. An opportunity to advance in a tournament. To begin righting the wrongs I made against myself years ago. To reach that pinnacle once more and win that big match. This is the epitome of redemption, a mission I started months ago in a tiny building in Knoxville, Tennessee. To travel the world, to face new challenges, and rely on my skills and my skills alone to achieve victory.”
His eyes close, and Jimmy begins hitting his open left palm with that right elbow...over...and over again.
“The idea is sweet. The mere thought of it makes me delighted, Santana. You're tough, and to win, I'll have to be tougher. You're a fighter, and I'll have to fight harder. You're a representative of all things dark in Phoenix Wrestling...and me?”
The hitting stops. His eyes open. The resolve has returned.
“I'm the one who gets to light 'em up.”
A pause, the stare continuing before he walks off, stage left. The camera holds on the empty bedroom before fading to black.
No, this unlucky soul is – was, rather, the head road agent of EXODUS Pro Wrestling, Jimmy Riley. Riley had spent the second half of 2012 wrestling in Tennessee for the Universal Wrestling League, before leaving with several others (Iron King competitor Jonathan Collins included) to help form EXODUS. But...instead of simply resuming his in ring career, Riley was relegated to road agent duty. The main drawback to that? A rule instituted by EXODUS owner Rufus Frost; no staff can lay an offensive hand on a roster member. That...would be the reason Jimmy Riley was sitting outside the RIMAC; minutes earlier he charged the ring to help save one of his best friends, new EXODUS Champion Fiona Rourke.
He glanced down at the baseball bat on the ground next to him, making a mental note to get it returned to Tiami Tyler.
In the ring, he traded punches with LEGION's charismatic mouthpiece, Kliff Ulysses. That proved to be too much for Frost to ignore, resulting in the firing of Jimmy Riley...and the scene before us. Jimmy sighed to...himself, seeing as nobody was around, and glanced at his phone. Twitter had lit up at his firing, with roster members pouring out support for him. His eyebrows arched; Jimmy didn't expect this kind of reaction. The only other notification came from his new girlfriend; Maggie Rourke, the cousin of Fiona, who was backstage checking on her cousin. She assured Jimmy that as soon as she could, the two would be together.
At this point, Jimmy would take any company other than the baseball bat.
~~~~~
Lost in all of the hoopla that was both his job with EXODUS and his travels around the world (carrying the banner of EXODUS despite not being a contracted wrestler) was another search Jimmy Riley was eager to continue. Since last fall, Jim Riley Sr. had been declared missing. This wouldn't be a big deal to Jimmy, who was estranged from his father after discovering him cheating on his mother Alexis, except for one little hangup.
A hangup named Alistair Moore.
Moore, a businessman in the LEGION stronghold of Deep Ellum, Texas, had entered into a deal with the elder Riley several years ago. Unfortunately for both men, the deal (which Jimmy was still in the dark on) went south, and Jim Riley left Ellum, never planning to return. This was a matter between the two of them until Jimmy ventured into Ellum with Jonathan Collins and Fiona Rourke. There he was confronted with Alistair Moore's lawyer, an Everett Williams. Williams was the person who informed Jimmy of the deal, and warned him to leave and never return.
...He never really planned on going back to that hell hole.
But only a few weeks ago, when Jimmy prepared to head to England for the pro wrestling FRONTIER Open House battle royal, he was confronted with two...ah, “associates” of Moore and Williams, sent to inform him. Specifically to inform him of his new duty; the debt owed by his father was now transferred to him in absence. That reignited his search; Jimmy Riley may not want to speak to his father, but he doesn't want to be responsible for his father's mistakes and debts.
That is why he was, again, in Cleveland, his hometown. Jim Riley was the owner of a used car lot, one which Jimmy had been to before, finding the office an utter mess. Today, upon his return...
“...It's all exactly the same.”
The office was the same mess. Exact same. Every paper exactly where it was when he left. The business had shut down clearly, but the lot remained vacant. Jimmy sat down at the computer, logging on to see if there was any sign of his father's whereabouts there. While it booted up, he shuffled through the papers on the desk, straightening them up. One in particular caught his eye.
“Moore...alright, let's see if we can find anything out about this deal.”
~~~~~
The computer turned up little; the last e-mail sent from the computer was back in July, just when Jimmy was going back into wrestling...and the last time he was regularly in Cleveland. The paper, on the other hand, gave a bit more insight.
Alistair Moore was more than just some executive; according to what Jimmy was able to dig up, Moore was the second most powerful man in Ellum, behind Hal Snyder. Hal's name stood out like a beacon to Riley, with his followers terrorizing EXODUS Pro as the group LEGION. Snyder and Moore essentially ran Ellum with two iron fists, controlling all they could see (and most of what they couldn't). That power made much more information hard to come by.
Unfortunately...it looked like Jimmy Riley would soon be returning to Deep Ellum. In the meantime, however, a trip to Tonga lay in his future.
~~~~~
“The Isle of Tonga. You know an interesting fact? The King of Tonga sent some of his strongest warriors to Japan back in the 70's to learn the art of sumo wrestling.”
Jimmy Riley was sitting in his current home; Anaheim, California, specifically the house belonging to Jonathan Collins. That...was not who he was across from, however.
“Yeah? How did they do?”
Madison Collins is the daughter of Jonathan and his late wife, Helena Benes-Collins. Jimmy was tasked with looking after her while Jon went on a brief trip out of the house; he hadn't told either of them where he was going.
“A couple ended up becoming pro wrestlers over there instead. Not really anyone notable, just something I found out while looking up info on it.”
“Oh, that's pretty cool. So you're going to Tonga to wrestle, Mr. Jimmy?”
Jimmy nodded, shoveling a spoonful of cereal into his mouth. As he chewed, he contemplated exactly how to address his Iron King opponents. Sure there were some Phoenix Wrestling regulars; Michael Norcia, Juan Ramirez, and Natalie Burrows...not to mention his first round opponent, Santana. There were also outsiders like him; Orphan of ACW, and two APW competitors in The Guv'Nor and Buckson Gooch.
Truth be told, Jimmy felt a little undermatched for some of them; he's not an expert in a martial art like Burrows, and he doesn't carry the immense size and power that Gooch wields. All he brought to the table was a wrestling style that, thankfully, now emphasized his striking over his original skill set of slow, semi-power based wrestling. Well...that and a little bit of desperation. Being out of a job meant finding a new way to put money and food on the table, no matter how much Jonathan was providing him.
“Who are you wrestling?”
Madison's words jolted Jimmy out of his thoughts, and he loudly swallowed what was left of his bite.
“Ah...Santana. He's a Phoenix Wrestling guy; little, but dangerous. High tolerance for pain, and a wrestling style that, if he chooses to use it, is painful. Worse yet, it's special rules.”
“Yeah, daddy mentioned that. He can only use submissions!”
Madison was intelligent beyond her years, particularly in wrestling. Using her dad's vast tape library, she had become versed in multiple promotions, styles, and cultures.
“That might work well for him, but I'm only able to use strikes. Santana's not above using his fists. I don't imagine your dad's ever let you watch a Taipei Death Match, has he?”
Madison shook her head vigorously.
“I don't even know what that is!”
“That's probably for the best, but it involves gluing broken glass to your hands. It's the kind of match Santana probably dreams about, and he got to live it out.”
The little girl winced at the thought of what even that brief description put in her mind.
“Yeah. So he gets free reign to use his fists against me next week. But they put me in this bracket for a reason.”
Madison nodded as she picked up her bowl to finish off the milk left inside.
“Your elbow's really good! It'll knock him out for sure!”
Jimmy's nod was nearly imperceptible.
“I sure hope so, kiddo.”
~~~~~
“I won't lie, I kinda wanted to throw up a little bit when you did that.”
It's later in the day; Jonathan had returned and taken his daughter out for the afternoon, along with Fiona. Jimmy was left alone for a few hours as he waited on Maggie to show up. He figured this time was best spent addressing his primary concern.
“Shouldn't be surprised, though. You seem like the kind of guy that'd glue glass to your fists and then punch a guy in the privates. Stand-up character there, Santana.”
He did make the effort to change into some regular clothes, rather than the pajamas he had worn for the better part of the day. The old “Hudson River Wrestling” t-shirt had seen better days, but Jimmy decided it was better than the EXODUS Pro shirts he had lining the closet.
“I'll admit, I'm not one for that kind of violence. At least, not the kind with extra accoutrements. That's equipment for the slow folks out there; glass, light tubes, barbed wire. None of it fits me. Me? I prefer these.”
With his left hand, Jimmy carries only a balled fist. His right arm, however, is cocked to show his elbow; the crux of his Six Hour Shift corkscrew elbow.
“Bare hands. I know you're familiar with using them, Santana. You've spent plenty of time in a place where hands are all you could have, no matter how many items you turned into weapons. You're prepared for this kind of match...this fight. Let's not mince words, because you're going to make sure this is a fight. I have to get into that mentality, because I know you're not going to have any problem seeing it as one.”
Riley shifts his weight, his arms dropping back down to his sides before coming up in front of him, hands meeting around his sternum.
“There's no denying how dangerous you are, Santana. You'll take any risks, fight any battle that you think you can win, and with the power that EMPIRE has granted you, there's few you won't be able to win. Me? I'm a man with nothing, career wise.”
Jimmy looks down, his face showing signs of past disappointments.
“I've been in big tournaments before. I've gone through the gauntlet, I've reached that pinnacle...only to fall short. More than once. But that was a long time ago. Now? I'm...virtually nobody. I travel from show to show, looking for victory but finding only defeat. Frontier in England. Warped in Phoenix. Now I've even been fired from a position that never called for me to be in a ring. Where does that leave me when we step inside a ring in Tonga?”
Now Riley's face rises, a steely determination in his green eyes as he looks at the camera.
“It leaves me with nothing to lose. For you? You have the possibility of losing again. Of falling short on your home turf. Being the weak link of EMPIRE. Having this big success, winning the Taipei Death Match only to turn around and squander the momentum handed to you. For me? If I lose? I move on to the next stop. On to the next chance at victory. You, Santana? You have everything to lose in this match.”
Jimmy can't help but smile just a little bit.
“Me? I've got everything to gain. An opportunity to advance in a tournament. To begin righting the wrongs I made against myself years ago. To reach that pinnacle once more and win that big match. This is the epitome of redemption, a mission I started months ago in a tiny building in Knoxville, Tennessee. To travel the world, to face new challenges, and rely on my skills and my skills alone to achieve victory.”
His eyes close, and Jimmy begins hitting his open left palm with that right elbow...over...and over again.
“The idea is sweet. The mere thought of it makes me delighted, Santana. You're tough, and to win, I'll have to be tougher. You're a fighter, and I'll have to fight harder. You're a representative of all things dark in Phoenix Wrestling...and me?”
The hitting stops. His eyes open. The resolve has returned.
“I'm the one who gets to light 'em up.”
A pause, the stare continuing before he walks off, stage left. The camera holds on the empty bedroom before fading to black.