Post by Press1269 on Dec 13, 2019 14:09:10 GMT
12/13/2019 [OFF CAMERA]
LOLO'S BAR AND GRILL
RAINBOW BOULEVARD, LAS VEGAS, NEVADA
LoLo's was a building surrounded by windows with a parking lot that stretched all around the building. This was typical of most chain restaurants, which gave Press the perfect vantage point from where he was parked to keep an eye on the front entrance and the bar area at the same time. Youth was inside at the bar, hamming it up with some of the other patrons, some of which were probably of the supernatural variety. More than likely they were harmless, lower denizens, but you could never be too sure, and he had to trust that his partner knew what he was doing.
After all, it was Youth's plan to split up to cover all their bases. LoLo had indicated that their mark, Otto Orpheus, in some circles known as 'The Broker', would appear every Friday for karaoke night. Youth would sit at the bar and identify the mark while Press remained outside the venue to cover the exit. If Otto didn't immediately recognize his partner, then he would make his way outside, and they'd tail and tackled the guy together. Unfortunately for them, it was already 10:30pm on a Friday and thus far, no Otto.
Suddenly the phone sitting in the center console lights up and begins to vibrate and his eyebrow raises as he looks down. He wasn't used to receiving phone calls unless it was from his partner, and he could see Youth still chumming it up inside the bar with the others. He reached down to check the number, and to his surprise saw 'Nin' displayed on the screen.
With a swipe of his thumb he lifted the phone to his ear and in a voice that sounded slightly questioning said, "Hello?"
The two conversed for a few moments, having a conversation that would eventually lead to the events of Chaos three days later before he hit the end button and placed the phone back on the console. (To see that conversation and find out more, refer to the Munin CD: Phone A Friend)
He sat there dumbfounded for just a moment, thinking to himself...'what did I just do.' But Munin had used the magic words. She needed them, and at the end of the day there wasn't much more that he required to spring into action. As much as he didn't believe it, he couldn't help but wonder if she didn't know that the phrase would yield those results. That it would be too easy to manipulate him because of how he felt about her.
The passengers side door opened abruptly ending the turmoil going on in his head, and his hand reflexively went for the Magnum in his jacket pocket when he glanced over to see Youth leaping into the seat beside him. The younger man looked over and caught Press' expression and his face froze in a comical way. Press rolled his eyes and let his hand leave the inside of his jacket to rest on the steering wheel as Youth got the rest of himself in the car and shut the door.
"What's up with you? Bit jumpy for a stakeout..."
"Nothing. What are you doing here?"
"Our query just showed up. Didn't you see him come in?"
Press looked a little embarrassed as he shook his head and brought his hand up to his chin to stroke his goatee. No. He hadn't seen it. He was too busy with his private monologue and had become distracted. The very type of thing that could lead to an early grave in this line of work. He sighed heavily before pushing his door open and letting one of his large boots slip out onto the pavement.
He looked over at his partner who was still regarding him with worry, and said, "Sorry, kid. Got distracted. Won't happen again.."
With that he hefted himself out of the car while Youth leaned over the center console with a shocked expression.
"Hey! What the hell are you doing? You know the rules of LoLo's! We'll wait til he leaves and then nab him!"
Press shook his head grimly before replying, "Our time tables have shifted. We need info, and we need it now." He grabbed hold of the door at the top, and just before throwing it shut, added, "Oh yeah...we're back in the wrestling business."
With that, the door closed, leaving Youth behind in stunned silence. The young man quickly recovered his senses and threw open his own door, exiting quickly. He trotted to catch up to his partner who was striding with purpose towards the door of the establishment.
"Wait! WHAT? When did that happen?"
"Nin called. She needs us."
"heh, heh, heh...That's all it took, eh?"
Press grabbed the front door handle and turned an irritated glance at his partner just before yanking it open.
"Shut up."
The automatic chime on the door signaled their arrival and several heads at the bar looked up from their drinks to see the two men enter. The big man and his gruff exterior were enough to cause anyone to blanch, but the reappearance of Youth at his side caused several to quickly drop bills on the counter and start making their way towards the exit. There was no way this was going to be a fun evening at LoLo's.
Press and Youth sidestepped to let the lower denizens pass by, keeping their eyes on Otto who was standing next to the karaoke stage with a book in his hand full of song choices. It was obvious that he hadn't noticed their entrance, nor the fact that everyone else was bailing out of the ship. The man was about five foot seven, 160 pounds, and was wearing a charcoal grey suit that looked like it jumped of the rack of a J.C. Penny. Under the jacket was a light blue button up with a black tie that brought out the color of his eyes. He apparently had come to a choice on the page as the two men approached from behind because he held the book up to the D.J. and noticed that she was looking past him anxiously.
Otto whipped around and flashed the two men a smile just as they reached him. "Gentlemen, I didn't realize you were back in town. Why don't you take a seat over by the bar while I do this number."
The men could hear the low hum of a charm in The Broker's voice, and despite recognizing it, their bodies began to shuffle away from Otto and back towards the bar. LoLo watched from behind the counter with a bemused expression as the two men approached and took a seat.
Press stared right at the woman, and in a seething voice mumbled, "Do something about this!"
LoLo's eyes narrowed as 'Hound Dog' by Elvis cued up behind them, and Otto launched into the opening lyrics of the song.
"Oh, i'm supposed to save your bacon. You know the rules of this place, and even then, you were going to just muscle in here and do what you do. Well, how about you two just sit back and enjoy the music, and after Otto's finished and the spell wears off you two can be on your way as well."
The sound of the big man's teeth grinding could be heard even over the music, but Youth placed a hand on his shoulder to try and calm him down. It didn't seem to help. The longer Otto sang, the madder he became, and by the time the two minutes and twenty two seconds of track came to an end, he was fit to be tied. The D.J. called for a round of applause for Otto, and the few regular humans still in the bar obliged as it was a pretty good rendition. The two men could feel the tension of the charm being tested by their wills, but they weren't free of it by the time Otto came up behind them.
He placed a hand on either of their shoulders, drawing them in with a squeeze before flashing a million dollar smile.
"So, what exactly is it that you two wanted to speak to me about, and remember...be truthful!"
Press' clamped his lips together to keep from responding, but Youth couldn't help himself when he blurted out an answer to the question.
"We wanted...to know...your connection...to Loki..." The words came out clipped and forced, as if he didn't want to really say them but had no choice.
Otto's eyes went wide in surprise, as if he didn't expect anyone even knew that Loki was in town, let alone would ask about him. He realized he had just made a huge mistake by giving such an obvious tell, and berated himself quietly as the two men stared hard at him. His hands fell from their shoulders as he flashed the smile again, shaking his head dismissively.
"I...I don't know what your talking about." he said nervously, shrugging his shoulders. "You guys can't believe every rumor you hear, isn't that right LoLo."
He flashed a dangerous glance and the pixie's lips pursed before nodding in acquiescence.
Press looked from LoLo back to The Broker with a grim expression. "We know he's here, Otto, and we know you're recruiting talent all over Vegas for whatever he's cooking up. So why don't you just make this easy on yourself, and tell us where to find him."
Otto laughed at the statement and slapped the two men irritatingly on the shoulder before falling back a step. "You two guys. I mean, you're back in town all of five seconds and already dolling out threats. Same ole' same ole' with Redeemer's I suppose. But seriously, I don't think you two are in any position to make demands." He pauses to look over to LoLo. "And you...I'm disappointed. This was the best Karaoke in town, and now I'm going to have to find a new spot cause you couldn't keep your big fat mouth shut."
He shook his head in disgust before flashing his smile once more in their direction. "So, if you two wouldn't mind, turn around and place your hands on the counter, and count to ten thousand before you decide to come after me. And no cheating! One one thousand, two one thousand, three one thousand..."
"Four one thousand..."
"Five one thousand..."
"Good boys!" Otto laughed again while turning to make his exit, wing tip shoes glancing off the linoleum with every step. The door chimed once again to signal that he was gone, and the two men turned a desperate expression onto LoLo as they continued to recite the numbers. She wasn't in anyway pleased about it, but she had already made an enemy tonight, and there was no way she wanted two Redeemers to be added to that list. So she said a few words in a spidery language that seemed to hum in the air all around them, and just like that, they were in control of their bodies again.
Without a word Press swung around off the stool and hefted himself onto his feet, quickly stalking towards the door while Youth flexed his fingers, making sure that he was really back in control. Just as the big man burst through the door and out into the parking lot, Youth looked up to LoLo with an apologetic grin.
"Thanks, LoLo. Sorry about that. Won't happen again..." And with that he too made a hasty exit, leaving the petite woman behind the bar with a scowl on her face.
By the time Youth came through the door he barely had a chance to see a black Honda Civic peeling out of the parking lot with Otto behind the wheel. A loud honk to the side of him drew his attention to find that Press was already behind the wheel of the Pontiac and was tossing the passenger's side door open. Youth dashed over and dove in, pulling the door closed behind him as all 195 horses and 305 pounds of torque went into action. Bouncing out into the street after the Honda, Youth had to grab the dash to keep from ending up in his partners lap as they made a tight right turn to keep up with the diagonal tail lights.
"You know...there are other routes we can take to find Loki that don't involve us crashing smack dab in the middle of the strip!"
"Nah...this prick is going to give us what we want. Now why don't you do something useful like finding our freedom pendants."
Youth sighed in defeat as he popped the glove compartment and began rifling through the various items being knocked around inside thanks to the high speed chase. Finally his fists closed around two pendants in the shape of american flags that dangled from their respective chains and pulled them out. Youth held one of the charms out in front of him and watched it spin before his eyes. He hoped that the damn things still had some juice as it had been awhile since they had the glam magic infused onto the pendants. The spell was a complicated one, designed to confuse anyone who looked directly at them, which included street cams and cell phones, but it wouldn't be of any help if the magic had faded. He shrugged while placing one around his neck, holding onto the other one for his partner, when a hard left nearly sent him hurtling into his door.
"Jeez, what the hell is this guy doing? Cutting figure eights through the heart of Vegas?"
"Seems that way, but he's running out of room...if he makes it to the strip he'll have no maneuvering room."
"Yeah, and neither will we..."
"We don't need any. We just have to get him into the trunk."
"INTO THE TRUNK?!?"
"Be ready..."
The conversation was suddenly cut short by another sharp turn, but this time it was right into oncoming traffic. The Civic in front of them bobbed and weaved as Press deftly used the Pontiac's steering wheel to follow suit. Car Horns rang out into the night as headlights went zooming past them, windows rolled down with fists shaking in the wind. The Civic narrowly avoided a close call with an oncoming pick up truck, and the two men felt their passenger side wheels pop up onto the curb to avoid the disaster themselves. Youth watched as a light pole rapidly seemed to come right at him when the car loudly scrubbed the asphalt to return to the road. He breathed a sigh of relief just as the Civic took a sharp right onto Las Vegas Boulevard, and he was forced to plant his feet in the floorboard for the turn he knew was coming.
It felt like the car went up on two wheels for a moment, but eventually touched back down with the pavement in order for them to get on the bumper of Otto's car. The man looked panicked in the front seat to be sure as he pulled up on several rows of slow moving traffic. Finally a red light caused the line to come to a stop, and Youth didn't say a word before springing from the Pontiac and hoofing it to the Honda. Horns rang out, cell phones went up, and gawkers on the street hooted and hollered with cat calls as Youth reached the driver's side door. It was locked of course, but this didn't seem to bother him as he pulled a .45 caliber Glock from his waistband and aimed it right at Otto's head.
The Broker's hands went from the steering wheel into the air and Youth indicated with the end of the pistol to unlock the door. Otto nodded and complied, and the young man pulled the door open and yanked The Broker from the front seat and out into the street. Screams were going up now, calls for 911 and police. Youth didn't flinch or miss a beat, shoving Otto forwards to where Press had already pulled the lever for the trunk.
People were still gasping as duct tape was wound around the short man's wrists, and then one large strip shoved right across his mouth. Cries of kidnapping, mobsters, and worse went up as Otto was forced into the trunk.
Youth looked around at the crowd, the other cars, all of the people staring, shrieking, filming, and only one word could come to mind...
"Fuck..."
He hopped into the passengers seat and Press was already looking behind him so that he could back the Pontiac up, leaving the Honda Civic dead in the street even after the light had turned green. He whipped around the vehicle, and quickly cut a U-Turn so that they were now heading in the opposite direction away from the main strip. He flipped on their police scanner and it was alive with activity, cops being dispatched to the intersection they were just at. They could hear sirens getting closer, the scanner spitting out their current coordinates and the path they were taking.
Press shook his head in irritation, reaching up to grab at the edge of the headliner. He yanked it back to reveal strange symbols and markings underneath, and he placed his hand flat against one of the symbols.
"That fucking prick....I really didn't want to waste this."
In the same spidery language used by LoLo earlier, Press spoke out the guttural incantations of a spell. From underneath his hand the symbol began to glow, faint at first, but increasing in lumens until burning white hot.
Youth rubbed his temples and closed his eyes. "I hate this part..."
And then...The Pontiac Vanished.
After all, it was Youth's plan to split up to cover all their bases. LoLo had indicated that their mark, Otto Orpheus, in some circles known as 'The Broker', would appear every Friday for karaoke night. Youth would sit at the bar and identify the mark while Press remained outside the venue to cover the exit. If Otto didn't immediately recognize his partner, then he would make his way outside, and they'd tail and tackled the guy together. Unfortunately for them, it was already 10:30pm on a Friday and thus far, no Otto.
Suddenly the phone sitting in the center console lights up and begins to vibrate and his eyebrow raises as he looks down. He wasn't used to receiving phone calls unless it was from his partner, and he could see Youth still chumming it up inside the bar with the others. He reached down to check the number, and to his surprise saw 'Nin' displayed on the screen.
With a swipe of his thumb he lifted the phone to his ear and in a voice that sounded slightly questioning said, "Hello?"
The two conversed for a few moments, having a conversation that would eventually lead to the events of Chaos three days later before he hit the end button and placed the phone back on the console. (To see that conversation and find out more, refer to the Munin CD: Phone A Friend)
He sat there dumbfounded for just a moment, thinking to himself...'what did I just do.' But Munin had used the magic words. She needed them, and at the end of the day there wasn't much more that he required to spring into action. As much as he didn't believe it, he couldn't help but wonder if she didn't know that the phrase would yield those results. That it would be too easy to manipulate him because of how he felt about her.
The passengers side door opened abruptly ending the turmoil going on in his head, and his hand reflexively went for the Magnum in his jacket pocket when he glanced over to see Youth leaping into the seat beside him. The younger man looked over and caught Press' expression and his face froze in a comical way. Press rolled his eyes and let his hand leave the inside of his jacket to rest on the steering wheel as Youth got the rest of himself in the car and shut the door.
"What's up with you? Bit jumpy for a stakeout..."
"Nothing. What are you doing here?"
"Our query just showed up. Didn't you see him come in?"
Press looked a little embarrassed as he shook his head and brought his hand up to his chin to stroke his goatee. No. He hadn't seen it. He was too busy with his private monologue and had become distracted. The very type of thing that could lead to an early grave in this line of work. He sighed heavily before pushing his door open and letting one of his large boots slip out onto the pavement.
He looked over at his partner who was still regarding him with worry, and said, "Sorry, kid. Got distracted. Won't happen again.."
With that he hefted himself out of the car while Youth leaned over the center console with a shocked expression.
"Hey! What the hell are you doing? You know the rules of LoLo's! We'll wait til he leaves and then nab him!"
Press shook his head grimly before replying, "Our time tables have shifted. We need info, and we need it now." He grabbed hold of the door at the top, and just before throwing it shut, added, "Oh yeah...we're back in the wrestling business."
With that, the door closed, leaving Youth behind in stunned silence. The young man quickly recovered his senses and threw open his own door, exiting quickly. He trotted to catch up to his partner who was striding with purpose towards the door of the establishment.
"Wait! WHAT? When did that happen?"
"Nin called. She needs us."
"heh, heh, heh...That's all it took, eh?"
Press grabbed the front door handle and turned an irritated glance at his partner just before yanking it open.
"Shut up."
The automatic chime on the door signaled their arrival and several heads at the bar looked up from their drinks to see the two men enter. The big man and his gruff exterior were enough to cause anyone to blanch, but the reappearance of Youth at his side caused several to quickly drop bills on the counter and start making their way towards the exit. There was no way this was going to be a fun evening at LoLo's.
Press and Youth sidestepped to let the lower denizens pass by, keeping their eyes on Otto who was standing next to the karaoke stage with a book in his hand full of song choices. It was obvious that he hadn't noticed their entrance, nor the fact that everyone else was bailing out of the ship. The man was about five foot seven, 160 pounds, and was wearing a charcoal grey suit that looked like it jumped of the rack of a J.C. Penny. Under the jacket was a light blue button up with a black tie that brought out the color of his eyes. He apparently had come to a choice on the page as the two men approached from behind because he held the book up to the D.J. and noticed that she was looking past him anxiously.
Otto whipped around and flashed the two men a smile just as they reached him. "Gentlemen, I didn't realize you were back in town. Why don't you take a seat over by the bar while I do this number."
The men could hear the low hum of a charm in The Broker's voice, and despite recognizing it, their bodies began to shuffle away from Otto and back towards the bar. LoLo watched from behind the counter with a bemused expression as the two men approached and took a seat.
Press stared right at the woman, and in a seething voice mumbled, "Do something about this!"
LoLo's eyes narrowed as 'Hound Dog' by Elvis cued up behind them, and Otto launched into the opening lyrics of the song.
"Oh, i'm supposed to save your bacon. You know the rules of this place, and even then, you were going to just muscle in here and do what you do. Well, how about you two just sit back and enjoy the music, and after Otto's finished and the spell wears off you two can be on your way as well."
The sound of the big man's teeth grinding could be heard even over the music, but Youth placed a hand on his shoulder to try and calm him down. It didn't seem to help. The longer Otto sang, the madder he became, and by the time the two minutes and twenty two seconds of track came to an end, he was fit to be tied. The D.J. called for a round of applause for Otto, and the few regular humans still in the bar obliged as it was a pretty good rendition. The two men could feel the tension of the charm being tested by their wills, but they weren't free of it by the time Otto came up behind them.
He placed a hand on either of their shoulders, drawing them in with a squeeze before flashing a million dollar smile.
"So, what exactly is it that you two wanted to speak to me about, and remember...be truthful!"
Press' clamped his lips together to keep from responding, but Youth couldn't help himself when he blurted out an answer to the question.
"We wanted...to know...your connection...to Loki..." The words came out clipped and forced, as if he didn't want to really say them but had no choice.
Otto's eyes went wide in surprise, as if he didn't expect anyone even knew that Loki was in town, let alone would ask about him. He realized he had just made a huge mistake by giving such an obvious tell, and berated himself quietly as the two men stared hard at him. His hands fell from their shoulders as he flashed the smile again, shaking his head dismissively.
"I...I don't know what your talking about." he said nervously, shrugging his shoulders. "You guys can't believe every rumor you hear, isn't that right LoLo."
He flashed a dangerous glance and the pixie's lips pursed before nodding in acquiescence.
Press looked from LoLo back to The Broker with a grim expression. "We know he's here, Otto, and we know you're recruiting talent all over Vegas for whatever he's cooking up. So why don't you just make this easy on yourself, and tell us where to find him."
Otto laughed at the statement and slapped the two men irritatingly on the shoulder before falling back a step. "You two guys. I mean, you're back in town all of five seconds and already dolling out threats. Same ole' same ole' with Redeemer's I suppose. But seriously, I don't think you two are in any position to make demands." He pauses to look over to LoLo. "And you...I'm disappointed. This was the best Karaoke in town, and now I'm going to have to find a new spot cause you couldn't keep your big fat mouth shut."
He shook his head in disgust before flashing his smile once more in their direction. "So, if you two wouldn't mind, turn around and place your hands on the counter, and count to ten thousand before you decide to come after me. And no cheating! One one thousand, two one thousand, three one thousand..."
"Four one thousand..."
"Five one thousand..."
"Good boys!" Otto laughed again while turning to make his exit, wing tip shoes glancing off the linoleum with every step. The door chimed once again to signal that he was gone, and the two men turned a desperate expression onto LoLo as they continued to recite the numbers. She wasn't in anyway pleased about it, but she had already made an enemy tonight, and there was no way she wanted two Redeemers to be added to that list. So she said a few words in a spidery language that seemed to hum in the air all around them, and just like that, they were in control of their bodies again.
Without a word Press swung around off the stool and hefted himself onto his feet, quickly stalking towards the door while Youth flexed his fingers, making sure that he was really back in control. Just as the big man burst through the door and out into the parking lot, Youth looked up to LoLo with an apologetic grin.
"Thanks, LoLo. Sorry about that. Won't happen again..." And with that he too made a hasty exit, leaving the petite woman behind the bar with a scowl on her face.
By the time Youth came through the door he barely had a chance to see a black Honda Civic peeling out of the parking lot with Otto behind the wheel. A loud honk to the side of him drew his attention to find that Press was already behind the wheel of the Pontiac and was tossing the passenger's side door open. Youth dashed over and dove in, pulling the door closed behind him as all 195 horses and 305 pounds of torque went into action. Bouncing out into the street after the Honda, Youth had to grab the dash to keep from ending up in his partners lap as they made a tight right turn to keep up with the diagonal tail lights.
"You know...there are other routes we can take to find Loki that don't involve us crashing smack dab in the middle of the strip!"
"Nah...this prick is going to give us what we want. Now why don't you do something useful like finding our freedom pendants."
Youth sighed in defeat as he popped the glove compartment and began rifling through the various items being knocked around inside thanks to the high speed chase. Finally his fists closed around two pendants in the shape of american flags that dangled from their respective chains and pulled them out. Youth held one of the charms out in front of him and watched it spin before his eyes. He hoped that the damn things still had some juice as it had been awhile since they had the glam magic infused onto the pendants. The spell was a complicated one, designed to confuse anyone who looked directly at them, which included street cams and cell phones, but it wouldn't be of any help if the magic had faded. He shrugged while placing one around his neck, holding onto the other one for his partner, when a hard left nearly sent him hurtling into his door.
"Jeez, what the hell is this guy doing? Cutting figure eights through the heart of Vegas?"
"Seems that way, but he's running out of room...if he makes it to the strip he'll have no maneuvering room."
"Yeah, and neither will we..."
"We don't need any. We just have to get him into the trunk."
"INTO THE TRUNK?!?"
"Be ready..."
The conversation was suddenly cut short by another sharp turn, but this time it was right into oncoming traffic. The Civic in front of them bobbed and weaved as Press deftly used the Pontiac's steering wheel to follow suit. Car Horns rang out into the night as headlights went zooming past them, windows rolled down with fists shaking in the wind. The Civic narrowly avoided a close call with an oncoming pick up truck, and the two men felt their passenger side wheels pop up onto the curb to avoid the disaster themselves. Youth watched as a light pole rapidly seemed to come right at him when the car loudly scrubbed the asphalt to return to the road. He breathed a sigh of relief just as the Civic took a sharp right onto Las Vegas Boulevard, and he was forced to plant his feet in the floorboard for the turn he knew was coming.
It felt like the car went up on two wheels for a moment, but eventually touched back down with the pavement in order for them to get on the bumper of Otto's car. The man looked panicked in the front seat to be sure as he pulled up on several rows of slow moving traffic. Finally a red light caused the line to come to a stop, and Youth didn't say a word before springing from the Pontiac and hoofing it to the Honda. Horns rang out, cell phones went up, and gawkers on the street hooted and hollered with cat calls as Youth reached the driver's side door. It was locked of course, but this didn't seem to bother him as he pulled a .45 caliber Glock from his waistband and aimed it right at Otto's head.
The Broker's hands went from the steering wheel into the air and Youth indicated with the end of the pistol to unlock the door. Otto nodded and complied, and the young man pulled the door open and yanked The Broker from the front seat and out into the street. Screams were going up now, calls for 911 and police. Youth didn't flinch or miss a beat, shoving Otto forwards to where Press had already pulled the lever for the trunk.
People were still gasping as duct tape was wound around the short man's wrists, and then one large strip shoved right across his mouth. Cries of kidnapping, mobsters, and worse went up as Otto was forced into the trunk.
Youth looked around at the crowd, the other cars, all of the people staring, shrieking, filming, and only one word could come to mind...
"Fuck..."
He hopped into the passengers seat and Press was already looking behind him so that he could back the Pontiac up, leaving the Honda Civic dead in the street even after the light had turned green. He whipped around the vehicle, and quickly cut a U-Turn so that they were now heading in the opposite direction away from the main strip. He flipped on their police scanner and it was alive with activity, cops being dispatched to the intersection they were just at. They could hear sirens getting closer, the scanner spitting out their current coordinates and the path they were taking.
Press shook his head in irritation, reaching up to grab at the edge of the headliner. He yanked it back to reveal strange symbols and markings underneath, and he placed his hand flat against one of the symbols.
"That fucking prick....I really didn't want to waste this."
In the same spidery language used by LoLo earlier, Press spoke out the guttural incantations of a spell. From underneath his hand the symbol began to glow, faint at first, but increasing in lumens until burning white hot.
Youth rubbed his temples and closed his eyes. "I hate this part..."
And then...The Pontiac Vanished.
TO BE CONTINUED...
1/2/2019 [ON CAMERA]
LAS VEGAS PRODUCTION STUDIOS
4290 LAS VEGAS CT., LAS VEGAS, NEVADA
He looks up suddenly from his book, a little startled, but then flashes an academy award winning smile just as he allows the book to fall to his chest. He reaches up to take the pipe out of his mouth so that he can speak clearly, setting it down to the end table next to him while still sporting the grin.
“Why hello. Welcome. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Flaming Youth.”
Exaggerated wink.
“I know what most of you must be thinking. That name is so two decades ago for a professional wrestler, and Hey! I’m man enough to admit it. You’re right. I mean, I bet a guy with a name like that probably has something as cliché as flames running from his boots all the way up to his thighs.”
The grin never wavers as he shifts slightly in his seat which allows the edge of his robe to slip right off his legs to reveal tights that indeed have a flame running all the way up.
“I’m sure some of you recognize me as one part of The BombTrax, and even if you didn’t put two and two together, surely you saw our arrival at the December 16th Chaos…”
He pauses to swing his feet around so that he’s now sitting in the seat proper, only the robe has come completely open now and his chest lay bare and exposed. He flamboyantly pushes a tuft of his long dark hair out of his face before settling back into the chair.
“Now, I’m not one to brag, but that show was a fine example of the wonderful things you can do with just a little ingenuity and elbow grease. You see, we aren’t the type of guys who just show up on a whim. No, you must give us a call, and that is exactly what Lady Munin did. See, she has a problem with the folks in these here parts, and she knows better than anyone that sometimes the only thing you can do with this sort of problem is to drop a bomb on it.”
A loud sigh from off camera can be heard, and when the view swings around you can see the other member of The BombTrax, the six foot eleven, three hundred and sixty-five pound, Press, leaning against one of the bookshelves with his hand covering his face.
Youth looks to him with a shoulder shrug which causes the robe to fall off his shoulders.
“What?”
Press’ fingers separate over his face and he looks through the slit it creates. “Do you always have to be so corny?”
Youth falls back with his hand against his chest in mock surprise. “Muah…corny? Say it isn’t so?”
Finally, Press’ hands fall to his side as he steps over to join his partner on camera, and he shakes his head while watching Youth continue his melodrama of having a stroke. He eventually turns to address the camera himself, choosing to ignore the display.
“Look, what my partner is trying to say is that we have a special relationship with the Lady. While some people might say things like, ‘It was just business’, as an excuse to get out of any moral responsibility, we’re not those guys. Cause it’s not just business. Every single one of you on the Iconic Pro Wrestling roster were put on notice when we arrived at Chaos, and if you weren’t one of the ones to get our memo, don’t worry…we’re just getting started.”
His nostrils flare when he’s heated, and right now he’s heated as he steps forward to take up even more of the frame.
“Munin has her own reasons for why she wants to see this place burn, but quite frankly, we don’t share them. We don’t give a shit about Joshua Samson Esquire, and we certainly don’t care about Iconic Pro Wrestling as a promotion. What we do care about is her, and when she asked us to come in and wreck this place, who are we to deny the Lady what she wants. And of course, that comes with its own stigma, right? You people are going to be quick to say that we’re just lap dogs. Thugs for the higher power.”
Youth shrugs in the background and remarks, “We've been called worse.”
Press snorts out a mirthless laugh and slants his head to the side in acquiescence before continuing.
“I guess I just don’t want there to be any mistaken intent here. As I said, this isn’t just business. This isn’t a cop out. Its about as personal as you can get. You all are here to make names for yourselves, get famous, earn championships. Everyone is doing their part too, playing up hero and villain, getting those cheers or those boos. Only…we aren’t play acting here, and what makes this so personal, is that we’re here to take it all away from you.”
His eyes bore into the camera like two orbs of light.
“And what’s worse…we’re going to do it while playing at your own rules. In IPW’s bylaws it says a superstar can not contend for any title before they have their fourth match except for the Television title. Well, Oliver, looks like you’re fucked.”
The statement is made even more abrasive by how matter of fact its stated, but the big man doesn’t get a chance to elaborate before Youth pops up at his side with a quandary of his own.
“Hey, don’t this place have Tag Champions?”
“Apparently they used to, but all the teams dried up, so they cut the division.”
“So, theoretically, we could just go in and declare ourselves the champions.”
Press gives a shrug. “I don’t see why not.”
Youth’s grin is from ear to ear. “Shit man, this’ll be easier than I thought! We’re already the IPW Tag Team Champions, and we haven’t even had a match! What trendsetters!”
Press chuckles while Youth shadow boxes like an idiot off to the side. Eventually he turns his attention back to the camera to offer some more food for thought.
“Mike, we don’t want you to feel left out, being that you’re the IPW Heavyweight Champion and one of our next opponents. I mean, we did leave you laying in the remnants of a table, but we’re not done with you. No, you being the flagship of the place we’ve been hired to wreck, well, yeah, this is going to be real personal for you. Cause not only are we going to beat you on the upcoming Chaos, we'll work our four matches, destroy the people set in our path in doing so, and we’re going to bird dog you to the point you’re going to need to join a help group for paranoia. So, take a good long look at that championship. Hold it close, give it a kiss, take lots of pictures. Cause in a very short while, trust me kid, it’ll be like you never had it."
Youth pauses in his shadow boxing as he becomes distracted by a piece of paper lying on the end table beside the chair. He snatches it up and holds it ridiculously close to his face to read, and then his finger fires into the air and he exclaims a halt to Press' statements.
"WAIT!"
Press jumps a little at the outburst and quizzically looks over to his partner. "What the hell?"
"Mason has a tag team partner. Together their known as The New Regime...."
The big man's right eyebrow raises slightly as he waits for his partner to continue. Seeing that Youth is still staring at the paper instead of responding, he places his fists on his hips and narrows his eyes.
"For Christ's sake, who is it?"
Youth looks up from the paper for the first time, almost as if he had completely forgotten the cameras, and then nods while producing a goofy smile. He thrusts the paper towards his partner while answering.
"Oh yeah! So it says here her name is Stasi Herveaux..."
Press takes the paper without really looking at it, but moves to correct his partner. "You mean Devereaux?"
"Nah man, take a look....it's Herveaux."
Press looks at the paper for the first time and its obvious when he finds the line of text because it causes him to take a step back in confusion.
"What's up with all the french people around here?"
"Dude, it's worse than that. Look at how she spells her name."
Press looks, and shakes his head. "What the fuck?"
"It's short for Anastasia...."
"Ana is short for Anastasia..."
"Apparently not here in Iconic Pro Wrestling. Besides, it's already taken."
Both men break the 4th wall by looking directly into the camera and mouthing the words,"I love the Hellcat's", before getting back to the promo.
"GOD DAMN IT!" Press exclaims, biting his bottom lip in frustration. "I wasn't completely convinced that kicking the shit out of this company was ethically right, but I AM NOW!"
"Now wait a minute. Just hold the phone..." Youth chimed in, hands on hips. "Just who the hell do we think we are to go around making such grandiose claims. I mean, this is Iconic Pro Wrestling, and we're just two guys who used to be a big deal a long time ago. A couple of has been's. I mean, shit, we haven't even been in a wrestling ring in over three years!
Press raises an eyebrow as he looks over at his partner's mock concern, but his eyes eventually find the camera once again. "It's a good question, eh? Luckily, Munin has given us this prime piece of real estate to answer it. But make no mistake, despite what you all might think, we got nothing to prove here. At this stage in our careers we can take a loss and be fine. We can step through those ropes and not have to worry about whether or not we're going to make it to the top of the mountain, because quite frankly, we are the fucking mountain."
Press looks intense as the last line is said, but it only has a moment to breathe before Youth steps back into frame.
"And if nothing else, we'll be able to rid Santa Monica of the over saturation of French people that were introduced by this company!"
Youth's grin is huge as Press sighs in the background just before swiping his partner out of the way and hitting the controls on the camera causing the screen to go black.
