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Champion
Champion
copyright 2010: OT3
Author:ZhunterD
Status:Unfinished
Rated:R
The muffled noise outside the room wakes him with a jolt. For a second he doesn't know where he is, then he remembers. He laughs at himself a bit, thinking it's getting easier to sleep. He looks at his watch, thinking it's was a whole 20 minutes this time. "Maybe one day, I'll get up to a hour at a time of sleep." he thinks, half jokingly.
He sits up on the table, trying to clear the dregs of the fog of sleep from his head. He instinctively reaches for the small silver medallion against his shirtless chest, feeling it's rough edge, and the crease in it. He looks at the contrast of the silver against his dark skin, and seeing the scars on his hands, and forearms. The muffled noise outside rises and falls in intensity.
"It's been a long time", he thinks to himself, as he gets off the table, and goes over to the counter in front of the wall length mirror. The shoulder length black dreadlocks fall over his shoulders, as he splashes water on his face. He turns and walks over to another table filled with food, and he grabs a apple. "They got it right this time, for a change." he mumbles under his breath. He takes and bite and savors the sweetness of the juice as he lets in drain into his throat. He begins to chew, and reaches over to turn on the laptop. Just as the laptop finishes booting, there is a knock on the door.
"What is it?!" He shouts
"It's me, your guy, Joe!", replies a muffled voice semi-drowned out from the noise outside. "Let me in, you bastard! I got something for you!!!"
With a long sigh, he crosses the room, and opens the door. The noise from outside is deafening as a crowd cheers, invading the room with sound. Standing in the dimly lit hallway is a tall thin guy wearing a very expensive suit, and sunglasses. Behind him are a stunning blonde haired, Asian woman with a low cut, shimmering gold lame dress that is so tight that looks like it was sprayed painted onto her obviously fake breasts, and a Brunette whose head is the only thing he can see, because she is hugging Joe from behind. He can tell she has been drinking, or had been taking something, because her eyes are half closed, and she is using Joe more for physical support, than for her attraction to him.
"Look, I got a few party favors for you before you go out!" Joe shouts over the roar of the crowd down the hall. "Where's the booze and stuff I ordered?" he says as he slides his way into the room. The brunette holds onto Joe as he is the only way she could make it more than two feet, without falling down. The Asian woman follows them, eyeing him like he is a piece of prime steak from the finest restaurant in the country.
He closes the door behind them as Joe turns with the brunette still connected as if she is a growth like the refugees from Mexico city developed after leaving that massively bombed city. The blonde slides up to him, and begins to feel his chest, and arms.
"OOOOHHHH! He is just like you told he was." She coos, as she presses her body up to his. "Do you want to play a little before you go out? I will make you feel like a winner!!" she whispers as she licks his ear.
"Joe, How many time I told you not to bring your ******* skanks in before I have to go on?!!!!" he says as he easily pushes her away with one hand. "After I am finished, yeah, but not before!!!!!! Get them the **** out!!!!!"
“Allright, Allright,” Joe says, as he begins to herd the two women out. “You heard him. Wait for me in the suite. There should be plenty of blow and Z there.”
Joe opens the door, and again the crowd noise fills the room as the two women leave. The Asian woman turns and winks at him as Joe closes the door.
“So what do you think?” Joe asks as he turns, “She looks just like Her!! Same **** and everything.”
“Yeah she does” he mutters, “Where do you keep finding them?”
“They are a dime a dozen! In any major city, there are hundreds of them walking down the street. Some of them are even real blondes.” Joe sneers as he sidles up to the food table, and begins eating grapes.
“So what are the numbers like tonight?” He yawns back as he moves over to the locker.
He opens the locker, and pulls out a set of shiny white leather forearm pads with four, six inch long, chrome spikes on the elbow, blue leather padded gloves with long, chrome, polished spikes jutting from the knuckles, a thin mesh like, red turtle neck shirt with small glints of metal peaking through the fabric, a matching pair of red mesh like pants, a pair of blue leather lace up knee high boots with spikes on the toes, a pair of white knee pads with chrome plates riveted to them, and a blue full face, motorcycle type helmet with “BUBBLES KILL” painted around the sides in red, and small pen cameras molded into the each side of the helmet. He starts putting these on as Joe mumbles through a mouth full of food, and turns to the laptop.
“Odds were 2-1 against you before the night started, but now they are up to 6-1 after the field was announced. They had to keep the gates open for a full hour for tonight.”
“Put everything we have on me, and don’t try to **** me over!!!” He says as he pulls up the tightly fitting spandex like red pants. “…and make sure the promoter gives us our full pay this time. None of that “incidentals” ****!”
“OK, OK… ” say Joe as he finishes a banana, and types on the laptop at the same time. “Goddam it, when are you gonna ask for real food! I would like a filet, or ribs, or something one of these times!’
“I will ask for that when you get your punk ass out there, and risk everything, and I get to sit in the box with the *******.” As he pulls on the shirt, which is just as tight as the pants. “Also, you cowardly piece of ****! Why haven’t you ever tried to? You are twice as big as I am!!!”
“But I am no where as good as you are, and I make the money, you make the action!” Joe retorted “anyway, why do you still use that old leather ****! Nobody uses that anymore, its too heavy for most of the others, and most of the others are bigger than you.”
“I use it cause I like it.” As he puts on the forearm pads, gloves and the boots. “**** all the other *************.”
Joe looks up at him, and gets serious, “I am serious! Two of the warm ups didn’t make it tonight, and they had the newest gear. One day….I gonna have to make that call to Momma! And I don’t want to do that!”
“Just a few more matches, and I will think about quitting.” He says, as he finishes getting dressed, and picks up the helmet in one hand. He turns to the locker, and pulls out a old 1967 German entrenching tool.
“And that old piece of ****!!!! When are you gonna get rid of that! I have sponsors who want to put your name on a new type of BOLO! They are willing to pay big money for you to sign with them! But you want to use that ancient, 150 year old ****! ” Joe exclaims when he see it.
“Because of this 150 year ****, we are where we are now.” He says. “Tell those ******** I am ready.” As he extends the blade, and pick, of the entrenching tool.
Joe reaches over to a phone, and punches a button. “He is ready.” Joe says quickly into the phone.
They both stand, and he stops to look in the mirror, checking to see if everything is on correctly. Joe comes up besides him.
“Be careful tonight.” Joe says very seriously, “I am serious about having to call momma!”
“ It is gonna be as easy as all the other times.” He says, “Just have the syringes ready.”
He turns towards the door, and Joe goes to open it. As the door opens, the deafening noise of the crowd floods the room. He steps into the hallway, and finally hears that the crowd is chanting,
“BUBBLES!!!!! BUBBLES!!!!! BUBBLES!!!!! BUBBLES!!!!! BUBBLES!!!!! “
They walk down the hallway, past a gurney with what looks like a body on it, completely covered as he had just died, and head towards four large men in black suits. The four men form a perimeter around him, and they all turn a corner. He and Joe are immediately swarmed by reporters thrusting cameras in his face and peppering him with questions, held back only by numerous guards. They proceed to walk though a door, into a brightly lit, double door vestibule. The crowd noise is literally shaking the doors. Waiting for him is a weasely looking guy, flanked by two large men holding new AK-X35s at the ready.
“How you feeling tonight Champ?” the weasely guy nervously asks loudly, ” Ready to make us some money?”
“ I am ready to make ME some money.” He growls back, “Just make sure it is all there.”
“Sounds like you are ready.” The weasely guys says as he sheepishly shies away.
“Let’s get this started.” He replies
The weasely guy nods to the big armed guard to the left, and he pushes a red button on the wall.
Suddenly a announcer’s voice booms over the ear splitting crowd noise, as a pulsating rap beat begins to thump.
“IT HAS BEEN A WILD RIDE TONIGHT!!!!!!!!!! TWO WENT DOWN, AND WE MAY SEE THEM AGAIN!!!!!!”
The crowd roars as if each person in the crowd had been given a million dollars in cash.
“WELL, THEY GOT YOU GOOD A READY FOR WHAT IS NEXT!!!!! ARE YOU READY!!!!!!!!!!!” , screams the announcer
The crowd roars back, “HELL YES!!!!”
“ARE YOU READY!!!!!!!!!!!” , screams the announcer again
The crowd roars back, “HELL YES!!!!”
The Weasely guy leans in and shouts into Bubble’s ear as he stands in front of double doors , “We have a record crowd tonight! We also have prime coverage by 6 networks! The pay-per-veiw money is gonna be huge. I still can’t believe you are going through with this!”
The announcer screams, “WHAT DO YOU WANT!!!!!!”
The crowd roars back, “TO SEE BUBBLES POP!”
The announcer screams, “ LETS POP SOME BUBBLES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
The double doors fly open, and a blinding spot light blocks out anything else. He out with his helmet under his arm, and the entrenching tool in the other hand. As he walks out the noise becomes earsplitting as the frenzied crowd becomes insane at the sight of him. He walks to the center of a large stage, as spotlights follow him, the chrome spikes of his costume sending laser beam like reflections into the crowd.
The crowd screams, “BUBBLES!!!!!! BUBBLES!!!!! BUBBLES!!!!!! BUBBLES!!!!! BUBBLES!!!!!! BUBBLES!!!!!”
He holds up the entrenching tool in one hand, pumping it up and down, working the crowd into a seething mass of crazed mindless psychosis. He points the etool at one of a number of giant Balloons hovering over the crowd, and it explodes, sending metallic silver, red, white, and blue confetti all over the ecstatic, pulsating crowd. He points at another, and it explodes, sending more metallic silver, red, white and blue shards into the crowd.
The crowd is totally out of control with excitement, and people begin to push against the security partition holding them back from him. Guards try to hold them back, and seemed about to fail in doing so.
He takes a wireless microphone, that is brought to him buy a tall, giant breasted, blonde.
“I AM GONNA DO WHAT!” he screams into the mic
“POP SOME BUBBLES!!!!!!” screams the crowd
“I AM GONNA DO WHAT!” he again screams into the mic
“POP SOME BUBBLES!!!!!!” again screams the crowd
“LET'S GET SOME!!!!!!” He screams into the mic
The crowd roars again, as powerful lights illuminate a large 150 yard long field below the stage. On the field are over 10000 zombies roaming around, trying to climb up 20 feet tall walls that separate them from the crowd. Intermixed with the zombies are platforms, and ramps that rise up from the zombie horde, giving the mass a look of a giant undulating sea of undead.
He puts on his helmet, and adjusts the fittings. It fits snugly to the top of the red shirt, leaving no seam. Immediately he hears Joes voice shouting in his ear.
“That’s a lot more than 1000 ZED that we told them to let in!!!!! This is ****** up!!!!!! I am gonna kill that weasel faced, piece of ****.”
“I told them to up the ZED count.” He calmly replies back as he walks towards gated stairs that lead down to the field.
“WHAT!!!!!!!! You have never done more 700 at a time!!!!!!! How the **** are you going to handle this many !!!!!!!!!!!!! I am going to call this off, you crazy son of a *****!!!!!!!!!!!!” Joe screams frantically over the radio
“I told them not to stop for anything. He isn’t going to listen to you.” He says as he opens the gate and begins walking down the stairs.
The crowd roars even louder, shaking the glass of the arena in their excitement.
In front of him, down another set of stairs, is a enclosed glass booth with a door on each side. One door opens to where he is standing, and the other opens out onto the field. He stops, and holds up the etool again. Giant monitors around the arena show him pumping it up, and down, to the chant of the wild eyed crowd. He then turns and enters the booth. Again he hears Joe’s voice pleading over the radio.
“Don’t do this!!!! You’re my brother, and I don’t want to lose you to some stupid ****!! We can stop this now!!!!”
He calmly replies, “I need you to be me eyes in the sky again. Can you do that? If you stay calm, and help me out like always, this will be the biggest we have ever done. I can do this.”
He steps into the booth, and closes the door. The crowd goes crazy, as the announcer pumps them up for what is about to happen.
Inside the booth is a row of lights, a spay head, and a button. He presses the button, and a clear liquid is sprayed on him for a few seconds. It stops, and then one of the lights flash red, then the second one flashes yellow, then the last two flash green, and the door opens to the field with a horn sounding off behind the booth. The zombies closest to the booth turn towards him as he steps out, both hands on his etool.
The zombies start moaning a moan that rivals the earsplitting blast of the crowd, and start shambling towards him.
copyright 2010: OT3
Author:ZhunterD
Status:Unfinished
Rated:R
The muffled noise outside the room wakes him with a jolt. For a second he doesn't know where he is, then he remembers. He laughs at himself a bit, thinking it's getting easier to sleep. He looks at his watch, thinking it's was a whole 20 minutes this time. "Maybe one day, I'll get up to a hour at a time of sleep." he thinks, half jokingly.
He sits up on the table, trying to clear the dregs of the fog of sleep from his head. He instinctively reaches for the small silver medallion against his shirtless chest, feeling it's rough edge, and the crease in it. He looks at the contrast of the silver against his dark skin, and seeing the scars on his hands, and forearms. The muffled noise outside rises and falls in intensity.
"It's been a long time", he thinks to himself, as he gets off the table, and goes over to the counter in front of the wall length mirror. The shoulder length black dreadlocks fall over his shoulders, as he splashes water on his face. He turns and walks over to another table filled with food, and he grabs a apple. "They got it right this time, for a change." he mumbles under his breath. He takes and bite and savors the sweetness of the juice as he lets in drain into his throat. He begins to chew, and reaches over to turn on the laptop. Just as the laptop finishes booting, there is a knock on the door.
"What is it?!" He shouts
"It's me, your guy, Joe!", replies a muffled voice semi-drowned out from the noise outside. "Let me in, you bastard! I got something for you!!!"
With a long sigh, he crosses the room, and opens the door. The noise from outside is deafening as a crowd cheers, invading the room with sound. Standing in the dimly lit hallway is a tall thin guy wearing a very expensive suit, and sunglasses. Behind him are a stunning blonde haired, Asian woman with a low cut, shimmering gold lame dress that is so tight that looks like it was sprayed painted onto her obviously fake breasts, and a Brunette whose head is the only thing he can see, because she is hugging Joe from behind. He can tell she has been drinking, or had been taking something, because her eyes are half closed, and she is using Joe more for physical support, than for her attraction to him.
"Look, I got a few party favors for you before you go out!" Joe shouts over the roar of the crowd down the hall. "Where's the booze and stuff I ordered?" he says as he slides his way into the room. The brunette holds onto Joe as he is the only way she could make it more than two feet, without falling down. The Asian woman follows them, eyeing him like he is a piece of prime steak from the finest restaurant in the country.
He closes the door behind them as Joe turns with the brunette still connected as if she is a growth like the refugees from Mexico city developed after leaving that massively bombed city. The blonde slides up to him, and begins to feel his chest, and arms.
"OOOOHHHH! He is just like you told he was." She coos, as she presses her body up to his. "Do you want to play a little before you go out? I will make you feel like a winner!!" she whispers as she licks his ear.
"Joe, How many time I told you not to bring your ******* skanks in before I have to go on?!!!!" he says as he easily pushes her away with one hand. "After I am finished, yeah, but not before!!!!!! Get them the **** out!!!!!"
“Allright, Allright,” Joe says, as he begins to herd the two women out. “You heard him. Wait for me in the suite. There should be plenty of blow and Z there.”
Joe opens the door, and again the crowd noise fills the room as the two women leave. The Asian woman turns and winks at him as Joe closes the door.
“So what do you think?” Joe asks as he turns, “She looks just like Her!! Same **** and everything.”
“Yeah she does” he mutters, “Where do you keep finding them?”
“They are a dime a dozen! In any major city, there are hundreds of them walking down the street. Some of them are even real blondes.” Joe sneers as he sidles up to the food table, and begins eating grapes.
“So what are the numbers like tonight?” He yawns back as he moves over to the locker.
He opens the locker, and pulls out a set of shiny white leather forearm pads with four, six inch long, chrome spikes on the elbow, blue leather padded gloves with long, chrome, polished spikes jutting from the knuckles, a thin mesh like, red turtle neck shirt with small glints of metal peaking through the fabric, a matching pair of red mesh like pants, a pair of blue leather lace up knee high boots with spikes on the toes, a pair of white knee pads with chrome plates riveted to them, and a blue full face, motorcycle type helmet with “BUBBLES KILL” painted around the sides in red, and small pen cameras molded into the each side of the helmet. He starts putting these on as Joe mumbles through a mouth full of food, and turns to the laptop.
“Odds were 2-1 against you before the night started, but now they are up to 6-1 after the field was announced. They had to keep the gates open for a full hour for tonight.”
“Put everything we have on me, and don’t try to **** me over!!!” He says as he pulls up the tightly fitting spandex like red pants. “…and make sure the promoter gives us our full pay this time. None of that “incidentals” ****!”
“OK, OK… ” say Joe as he finishes a banana, and types on the laptop at the same time. “Goddam it, when are you gonna ask for real food! I would like a filet, or ribs, or something one of these times!’
“I will ask for that when you get your punk ass out there, and risk everything, and I get to sit in the box with the *******.” As he pulls on the shirt, which is just as tight as the pants. “Also, you cowardly piece of ****! Why haven’t you ever tried to? You are twice as big as I am!!!”
“But I am no where as good as you are, and I make the money, you make the action!” Joe retorted “anyway, why do you still use that old leather ****! Nobody uses that anymore, its too heavy for most of the others, and most of the others are bigger than you.”
“I use it cause I like it.” As he puts on the forearm pads, gloves and the boots. “**** all the other *************.”
Joe looks up at him, and gets serious, “I am serious! Two of the warm ups didn’t make it tonight, and they had the newest gear. One day….I gonna have to make that call to Momma! And I don’t want to do that!”
“Just a few more matches, and I will think about quitting.” He says, as he finishes getting dressed, and picks up the helmet in one hand. He turns to the locker, and pulls out a old 1967 German entrenching tool.
“And that old piece of ****!!!! When are you gonna get rid of that! I have sponsors who want to put your name on a new type of BOLO! They are willing to pay big money for you to sign with them! But you want to use that ancient, 150 year old ****! ” Joe exclaims when he see it.
“Because of this 150 year ****, we are where we are now.” He says. “Tell those ******** I am ready.” As he extends the blade, and pick, of the entrenching tool.
Joe reaches over to a phone, and punches a button. “He is ready.” Joe says quickly into the phone.
They both stand, and he stops to look in the mirror, checking to see if everything is on correctly. Joe comes up besides him.
“Be careful tonight.” Joe says very seriously, “I am serious about having to call momma!”
“ It is gonna be as easy as all the other times.” He says, “Just have the syringes ready.”
He turns towards the door, and Joe goes to open it. As the door opens, the deafening noise of the crowd floods the room. He steps into the hallway, and finally hears that the crowd is chanting,
“BUBBLES!!!!! BUBBLES!!!!! BUBBLES!!!!! BUBBLES!!!!! BUBBLES!!!!! “
They walk down the hallway, past a gurney with what looks like a body on it, completely covered as he had just died, and head towards four large men in black suits. The four men form a perimeter around him, and they all turn a corner. He and Joe are immediately swarmed by reporters thrusting cameras in his face and peppering him with questions, held back only by numerous guards. They proceed to walk though a door, into a brightly lit, double door vestibule. The crowd noise is literally shaking the doors. Waiting for him is a weasely looking guy, flanked by two large men holding new AK-X35s at the ready.
“How you feeling tonight Champ?” the weasely guy nervously asks loudly, ” Ready to make us some money?”
“ I am ready to make ME some money.” He growls back, “Just make sure it is all there.”
“Sounds like you are ready.” The weasely guys says as he sheepishly shies away.
“Let’s get this started.” He replies
The weasely guy nods to the big armed guard to the left, and he pushes a red button on the wall.
Suddenly a announcer’s voice booms over the ear splitting crowd noise, as a pulsating rap beat begins to thump.
“IT HAS BEEN A WILD RIDE TONIGHT!!!!!!!!!! TWO WENT DOWN, AND WE MAY SEE THEM AGAIN!!!!!!”
The crowd roars as if each person in the crowd had been given a million dollars in cash.
“WELL, THEY GOT YOU GOOD A READY FOR WHAT IS NEXT!!!!! ARE YOU READY!!!!!!!!!!!” , screams the announcer
The crowd roars back, “HELL YES!!!!”
“ARE YOU READY!!!!!!!!!!!” , screams the announcer again
The crowd roars back, “HELL YES!!!!”
The Weasely guy leans in and shouts into Bubble’s ear as he stands in front of double doors , “We have a record crowd tonight! We also have prime coverage by 6 networks! The pay-per-veiw money is gonna be huge. I still can’t believe you are going through with this!”
The announcer screams, “WHAT DO YOU WANT!!!!!!”
The crowd roars back, “TO SEE BUBBLES POP!”
The announcer screams, “ LETS POP SOME BUBBLES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
The double doors fly open, and a blinding spot light blocks out anything else. He out with his helmet under his arm, and the entrenching tool in the other hand. As he walks out the noise becomes earsplitting as the frenzied crowd becomes insane at the sight of him. He walks to the center of a large stage, as spotlights follow him, the chrome spikes of his costume sending laser beam like reflections into the crowd.
The crowd screams, “BUBBLES!!!!!! BUBBLES!!!!! BUBBLES!!!!!! BUBBLES!!!!! BUBBLES!!!!!! BUBBLES!!!!!”
He holds up the entrenching tool in one hand, pumping it up and down, working the crowd into a seething mass of crazed mindless psychosis. He points the etool at one of a number of giant Balloons hovering over the crowd, and it explodes, sending metallic silver, red, white, and blue confetti all over the ecstatic, pulsating crowd. He points at another, and it explodes, sending more metallic silver, red, white and blue shards into the crowd.
The crowd is totally out of control with excitement, and people begin to push against the security partition holding them back from him. Guards try to hold them back, and seemed about to fail in doing so.
He takes a wireless microphone, that is brought to him buy a tall, giant breasted, blonde.
“I AM GONNA DO WHAT!” he screams into the mic
“POP SOME BUBBLES!!!!!!” screams the crowd
“I AM GONNA DO WHAT!” he again screams into the mic
“POP SOME BUBBLES!!!!!!” again screams the crowd
“LET'S GET SOME!!!!!!” He screams into the mic
The crowd roars again, as powerful lights illuminate a large 150 yard long field below the stage. On the field are over 10000 zombies roaming around, trying to climb up 20 feet tall walls that separate them from the crowd. Intermixed with the zombies are platforms, and ramps that rise up from the zombie horde, giving the mass a look of a giant undulating sea of undead.
He puts on his helmet, and adjusts the fittings. It fits snugly to the top of the red shirt, leaving no seam. Immediately he hears Joes voice shouting in his ear.
“That’s a lot more than 1000 ZED that we told them to let in!!!!! This is ****** up!!!!!! I am gonna kill that weasel faced, piece of ****.”
“I told them to up the ZED count.” He calmly replies back as he walks towards gated stairs that lead down to the field.
“WHAT!!!!!!!! You have never done more 700 at a time!!!!!!! How the **** are you going to handle this many !!!!!!!!!!!!! I am going to call this off, you crazy son of a *****!!!!!!!!!!!!” Joe screams frantically over the radio
“I told them not to stop for anything. He isn’t going to listen to you.” He says as he opens the gate and begins walking down the stairs.
The crowd roars even louder, shaking the glass of the arena in their excitement.
In front of him, down another set of stairs, is a enclosed glass booth with a door on each side. One door opens to where he is standing, and the other opens out onto the field. He stops, and holds up the etool again. Giant monitors around the arena show him pumping it up, and down, to the chant of the wild eyed crowd. He then turns and enters the booth. Again he hears Joe’s voice pleading over the radio.
“Don’t do this!!!! You’re my brother, and I don’t want to lose you to some stupid ****!! We can stop this now!!!!”
He calmly replies, “I need you to be me eyes in the sky again. Can you do that? If you stay calm, and help me out like always, this will be the biggest we have ever done. I can do this.”
He steps into the booth, and closes the door. The crowd goes crazy, as the announcer pumps them up for what is about to happen.
Inside the booth is a row of lights, a spay head, and a button. He presses the button, and a clear liquid is sprayed on him for a few seconds. It stops, and then one of the lights flash red, then the second one flashes yellow, then the last two flash green, and the door opens to the field with a horn sounding off behind the booth. The zombies closest to the booth turn towards him as he steps out, both hands on his etool.
The zombies start moaning a moan that rivals the earsplitting blast of the crowd, and start shambling towards him.
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Latest page update: made by zhunterd
, Dec 11 2010, 3:41 AM EST
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