AF 27: Wasabi Toyota vs. Fallout

[Richard Blonoff]

The gentle not-so-giant Wasabi Toyota is the first singles opponent for the not-so-gentle giant Fallout. Can Wasabi avenge his Gold Rush elimination by defeating Fallout, or does the monster from Moscow claim his first victim in WZCW?​

Deadline is Wednesday, September 4th, 11:59PM Central Time. Extensions via request.​

 

[Dan Severn's Moustache]

CONTRACT KILLER:​

“A contract” Fallout muttered to himself with a sense of glee. “A contract to create pain...and a contract to strike fear across the WZCW.” Relishing every word, Fallout began to shudder with excitement, like a shark smelling blood in the water.

Fallout said this whilst slowly walking out of the arena with his head held high. Thoughts rushed through Fallout’s psychotic mind, such as who would have the misfortune to fall in his wake and how many others would his fear influence. Fallout refused to think about his early exit from the battle royale. He wrestled those thoughts to the back of his mind with his sick, sadistic pleasure of being granted access to the fed.

Clenching his fists with an overwhelming desire to find out his next opponent, Fallout threw open the door to Chuck Myles’s office with enormous strength. One of the door hinges gave way from the force and it jerked at an angle, leaving the door slanted. Chuck Myles was sitting in his chair at his computer calmly typing away when Fallout interrupted him. Chuck Myles’s concentration lapsed and he quickly became annoyed at the intruder.

“What in god’s name is wrong with you, Fallout?!” yelled Myles from across his table. “I’m trying to work on the match-cards at the moment and I’d rather not have to listen to your insane ramblings right now.”

“I beg your pardon?” Fallout retorted coldly.

“Get out of here!” bellowed Myles before shooting up from his chair and slamming his fist on the table. “I’m not in the mood to speak with anyone at the moment, let alone deranged, radioactive freaks!”

Fallout did not take too kindly to this critique. Aggravated, he struggled to contain himself but he soon found himself hurling Myles’s computer monitor across the room with great force and putting his face very close to Myles’s face. Both men began to convulse with anger but it was Fallout who took control of the conversation.

“I am a freak, Mr Myles!” Fallout cried out. “But I can END YOU, and wipe you off the face of the earth you weak pathetic excuse of life!”

Fallout began to hyperventilate, ready to destroy the fool that dared to question him. The brief sadistic joy had completely faded, and now only anger remained in Fallout. He was inches away from annihilating Chuck Myles.

As for Chuck Myles, he was in a catch-22. He continued to monitor the cold stare of Fallout while he played out both scenarios in his head. He could continue, and risk incapacitation or he could submit and allow Fallout to savour his fear. He was stuck.
But at this point, his instinct took over.

“That does it!” Myles snapped. “I'm putting you up against Wasabi Toyota next week on Aftershock.”

In an instant, Fallout’s anger subsided. Myles had piqued his interest. Fallout stopped and began to listen closely to Myles.

“To be completely honest, I don’t like you. And I don’t like Toyota either” He briefly paused to gauge Fallout’s reaction who continued to stare deeply at him. “So the pair of you can destroy each other in a match next week. Everybody wins. You get to “destroy” people, I get you off my back, Wasabi meets a worthy challenger and the fans get an amazing match. What do you think?”

Fallout took some time to calculate the match-up in his head. Wasabi Toyota, a little man that was once a big man. A man that thought he could change who he was. A man on a losing streak since his return. Another stupid human who thought he could redeem himself. Easy prey.

“You undermine me, Mr Myles.” Fallout responded sharply. “Yet I am content with Toyota. His past as a big man...he’ll do for now.”

As Fallout turned and strolled away to leave the office, he stopped in the doorway.

“Come on! You have your match-up now, move it.” Myles moaned in despair.

Fallout turned around and told Myles “One last thing, Mr Myles. I’d advise keeping your eyes on your talent and making sure that I remain pre-occupied. For you see, Mr Myles, I am like a kitten.”

“In what way?”Myles replied. He thought to himself ‘How could anyone like him possibly be anything like a kitten?’

“Give me plenty of toys, or else I will find my own.” Fallout stated with the purest pleasure.

Fallout left the office leaving a distraught and puzzled Chuck Myles to ponder about replacing his computer screen and door hinges.

***​

“will be l8 in 2day as i hav 2 run errands. cant interview fallout 1st thing. becky x” read the text message on Chuck Myles’s cell phone. Chuck Myles himself had a frown on his face. He couldn’t believe it, this freak was getting to everyone. He shook his head slowly before turning to Johnny Klamor, who was seated at the opposite end of the desk.

“So Becky’s not interviewing Fallout, is she?” Johnny Klamor queried. The look from Chuck Myles’s face said it all. It was a face of concern and great doubt.

“Great.” Johnny continued. “If that abomination can break Becky, then who knows what he can do to the rest of the interview team. Screw that, I’m not going anywhere near him.”

“Oh yes you are Johnny.” said Chuck with a commanding voice. “For you see, I’m keen to learn more about Fallout.”

“In what way, Chuck?”

“Consider him...” Chuck stopped momentarily to think of the right words. “Consider him an experiment...in the fact that we monitor his feelings and attempt to understand his thought process.”

“Look Chuck.” Johnny intervened. “I can assure you that the only thoughts going through that...thing’s mind are crazed and nonsensical. You don’t need-“

“But I do, Johnny, I do!” Chuck retorted angrily, shooting out of his chair and sending it into a wild spin. “He...It threatened to take out my entire roster if he wasn’t satisfied with the competition. I need to understand its motives or else we could have casualties on our hands here! We need to protect our talent from that madman!”

“Why do we need to keep him hired anyway?” Johnny queried.

“Because you’ll find me dead if we don’t.“ answered Chuck with a grim look on his face. “It keeps that monster entertained and it’ll provide entertainment to our audience. I’m trying to figure out a plan but...god damn it, just interview him will you? Or I’ll fire you!”

Johnny Klamor was nervous, but he took a deep breath and swallowed his fears “OK, sir. I’ll interview Fallout”. Sweat rained from his forehead as he immediately began to regret this decision. If Fallout could scare Becky Serra, god knows what he could do to him. He slowly stood up and left the GM’s office through the now-repaired door.

***​

Johnny Klamor cautiously began to approach Fallout, who he could see leaning casually against the cold, concrete wall of the arena. Johnny continued to sweat as he felt like a hapless rabbit walking right into the vicinity of a deadly hunter. He shuffled, microphone in hand trembling, anticipating the worst.
Fallout’s head turned suddenly to face Johnny’s.

Johnny let out a loud yelp, and almost turned around to leave. But he wasn’t going to go now. Not when he was so close.

Fallout stared at the man and instantly knew what was going to happen. Interview. It was time to make an impression to the world yet again. In Fallout’s hand, he held a file and he began to flap it gently, waiting for the chance to unveil what was inside.

“Hello Fallout” said Johnny quietly. Fallout did not respond.

Johnny already began to feel awkward “You came up short in the Contract Battle Royale but-“

Fallout suddenly began to shout. “Because the cowardly humans ganged up on me! Because my intentions are not to throw a man over the top rope but to inflict PAIN on him!”

Johnny was prepared to flee to avoid Fallout’s wrath, but it was Fallout who calmed himself down, forcing himself not to even think about the battle royale.

“I assume you’re going to ask about Wasabi Toyota, my opponent tonight?” Fallout asked politely.

Johnny felt disgruntled and said strongly “I’m the one asking the questions here!”

Fallout then declared “But I’m the one in control here, Mr Klamor. Not you.” Klamor’s confidence immediately dropped as Fallout continued “Now, I want to talk about Wasabi Toyota.”

“Yes, let us.”

Fallout cleared his throat before holding the folder closely to Johnny Klamor’s face. Fallout wanted to make sure that the unaware human knew what he was talking about.

“This document” said Fallout proudly. “Contains all the information that I need to know on Wasabi Toyota. I borrowed it from one of the offices this morning.”

Johnny simply nodded, trying to observe Fallout’s behaviour and feelings towards his opponent. Meanwhile, Fallout himself had opened the folder and loose pictures and sheets of paper fell to the ground around his feet. Fallout then slowly scavenged through the debris until he found a certain sheet that intrigued him. Fallout picked it up and began to read it out aloud.

“Wasabi Toyota is known to fight for justice and he wants vengeance on the evil in the WZCW.”

Fallout was at this point annoyed.

“But in fact, Mr Klamor, I am the one that has suffered the greatest injustice here, not Wasabi Toyota. He has the Yakuza after him? I have the FUCKING SPETSNAZ trying to slaughter me for trying to escape from their hellish institution. He’s been force-fed tires? I’ve survived being in the vicinity of a nuclear explosion, survived a huge intake of radiation and have had people in the DOZENS trying to murder me.”

“I see.” said Klamor, taken aback by Fallout’s angry rant. “But I assume you know about Wasabi Toyota formerly being a monster of a man do you?”

This made Fallout angrier.

“WASABI TOYOTA HAD THE POTENTIAL TO BE A MONSTER! BUT HE NEVER WAS! HE NEVER WILL BE! AND HE’S THROWN THAT ALL AWAY! HE’S JUST ANOTHER MINISCULE SPECK THAT I’LL CRUSH TONIGHT, JUST LIKE THE OTHERS!” Fallout then began to rip the sheet of paper in his hand up in a rage.

Klamor began to back away, terrified by the monster that he saw before him. Fallout noticed this and grabbed him firmly by the shoulder blade, preventing his escape.

“Get off me, you damn freak!” Johnny yelled, desperately flailing to get free.

Fallout ignored his pleas and spoke deeply into the microphone, in a calmer, sinister voice “Wasabi Toyota can be salvaged however. I see it as my duty tonight not only to defeat Wasabi Toyota, but to educate him on what a monster is truly capable of. Make no mistake, Mr Klamor, Wasabi Toyota is the first of many that will succumb to my influence.”

Fallout released his grip on Johnny Klamor’s shoulders. Klamor, shaking after the whole ordeal quickly fled from the area, leaving Fallout alone, standing above the pile of paper. Fallout picked up a photo from the mound and stared closely at it.

“You won’t be enough to quench my thirst. Nowhere near.” Fallout muttered to himself with a callous tone.

In a swift movement, Fallout ripped the photo of Wasabi Toyota in two, before throwing it to one side carelessly and departing from the area himself.

 

[gd]

Music pumping. Strobe lights pulsating. Sweaty, shirtless bodies dancing to the beat. The smell of sex, alcohol, and beef tacos is in the air. Suddenly the bathroom door swings open and Wasabi Toyota sprints out onto the dance floor of Pairadyze Nightclub. The small Asian man stands out amongst the mostly muscular, Hispanic crowd of Chicago’s newest and hottest hangout spot.

Toyota begins to break it down on the dance floor, frantically flailing his limbs in every direction and moving his butt in the same manner. He eventually makes his way in between a group of shirtless Hispanic men, attempting to get his grind on.

TOYOTA: Woooo! Let’s get this fucking party started, bro!

The Hispanic men don’t take very kindly to being run into by a wild Toyota and proceed to push him around until the largest one pops him square in the jaw, sending him sprawling back into a corner. There’s a loud cheer from the entire club before the spicy patrons get back to their dancing. Toyota simply sits in the corner and laughs, seemingly unaware of the pain he should be feeling.

After a few moments a scrawny, Hispanic man runs over to the corner to check on the fallen Matsumoto Mauler.

MEXICAN DUDE: Wasabi! Are you okay?

TOYOTA: Armond! What’s up, buddy? Yeah, I’m great. Having a great time, bout to get out on the dance floor. Just needed to take a quick rest then I’m all good, bro. Yo man, what’s up with you?

ARMOND: I told you man, you have to chill out if you want me to keep bringing you here. People are starting to get pissed off at you. I’ve already almost been kicked out of here like 7 times, man. I’m on my last legs.

A slightly shaking Toyota, still sitting on the floor, smiles blankly at Armond for a moment before he lets out a loud, awkward laugh and once again begins speaking at warp speed.

TOYOTA: Yeah, yeah. It’s all cool man, I’m chill. But yeah, can you help me up I really need to use the bathroom, man. Just gimme a lift.

ARMOND: What’re you talking about you were just in the bat… ohh I get it. Hehehe.

Armond continues to laugh like a schoolboy and look the dance floor nervously and excitedly.

ARMOND: You wanna do some, don’t you Wasabi?

Armond gives Toyota an awkward wink as he helps it up, but Wasabi is now shaking too much to notice. Toyota quickly brushes past Armond, not wasting anytime on his way to the little boy’s room. However, just before he reaches the door a hand pulls on his shirt to stop him. Toyota looks around disoriented for a minute before he recognizes the man who grabbed him.

TOYOTA: Oh hey, Rocco! What are you doing here? Listen, I just gotta go to the bathroom real quick, but I’ll be right out. Long time no see man, we gotta catch up.

Toyota attempts to leave, but Uncle Rocco’s old, weathered hands are too strong for him to escape.

ROCCO: You aren’t going anywhere, pal. We need to have a talk. I’ve been looking for you all week! I had to follow you out tonight to see what was going on. Is this where you’ve been instead of the dance studio every night? You need to focus on your training, Sab.

TOYOTA: Pshhh, doesn't even worry about it, Roc. I’ve just been hanging out and partying with my boys. It’s all good, there’s nothing to worry about. I can dance here just fine anyway, it’s the same thing.

ROCCO: No it’s not! I quit my job so I could spend my time putting a training program together for you. It’s the most sophisticated and advanced dance-based training regimen in the world and you haven’t even shown up once yet. Maybe if you actually did come you wouldn't be in the middle of the longest losing streak of your career, bucco.

Toyota is quite unfocused on the conversation, his eyes wandering and his hands shaking more than ever.

TOYOTA: What was that? Oh yeah, don’t even worry about the losses though cause it’s all good. I just...uhh..you know…wasn’t doing too good out there the last couple of weeks, but my opponents were a bunch of douches. I’ll win this week though Rocco, it’s all cool. I’ll punch the dudes face in or something.

ROCCO: Do you even know who you’re facing this week?

TOYOTA: Yeah, yeah. Falcor or something like that. I dunno why I’m wrestling a bird, but whatever, I’m cool with it.

ROCCO: No, you idiot. His name is Fallout and he isn’t a bird. He’s a crazy, mutant Russian that will rip your face off if you aren’t ready for him. And from where I’m sittin it doesn't look like you’re ready at all.

TOYOTA: Oh, yeah, don’t worry. I know Fallout Boy. They’re pretty good but I can handle ‘em, I think. Anyway, thanks for the help, Roc. But I really gotta go the bathroom.

Toyota runs off quickly towards the bathroom and is able to escape the grip of the surprised Rocco, who quickly runs after Wasabi. As Rocco enters the bathroom he sees Toyota fidgeting with his pockets before tossing a baggy containing a copious white powder onto the counter.

ROCCO: Ahh, not this again. Is this why you’ve been acting all strange, Sab? I told you, you can’t be snortin’ sugar anymore. It makes you all loopy. Here, gimme that.

Rocco attempts to grab the bag from Toyota, but the little Japanese man isn’t about to give up his stash that easily and grabs a hold of the bag as well. The two struggle for a few moments before Toyota throws Rocco into the mirror above the sink, sending broken glass everywhere as well as causing the bag to break and the white powder to float throughout the air.

Both men get a large amount of powder on the face. While Toyota laps it up through whatever orifice possible, Rocco tries to wipe the excess powder off before stopping suddenly. He takes a quick sniff and licks a bit of powder off his finger before looking on with wide eyes at Toyota, completely shocked.

ROCCO: Hold on Wasabi, is this what I think it is?

Toyota is too busy kneeling down and furiously snorting as much powder as he's capable of off the floor to even hear the question. Just then, the bathroom door opens and the same Hispanic men that Toyota ran into on the dance floor enter the room, along with Armond. The biggest dude looks at the broken glass and then to Toyota before turning his attention to a whimpering Armond.

ARMOND: Ppplease, Raul. I’m sure it was just an accident. No reason to make a big deal of this, right?

RAUL: Shut up, punk. We’ll deal with you later; it’s been awhile since me and the boys have had a punting competition. Now as for you two, you aren’t gonna be so lucky. These are my grandmother’s mirror. You can’t be destroying family heirlooms!

As the group of shirtless, muscular, sexy Hispanics starts to move forward Rocco looks on in a state of fear while Toyota is just beginning to realize what is happening. Toyota, having finished consuming the rest of his powder, quickly leaps to his feet and runs up the side of the wall in order to avoid the first wave attackers. He then does a frontflip over the nearest sexy man and rolls of the back of the man behind him.

After a quick spin move Toyota has made it to the other side of the bathroom in a matter of seconds while everyone else stares on in shock. Toyota does a quick crotch chop before turning around and sprinting full speed off into the darkness of the night. The bathroom is dead quiet as no one how to react until Uncle Rocco breaks the silence.

ROCCO: Damn, maybe that stuff ain’t as bad as I thought it was. We can definitely work with this.

The sound of Rocco’s voice springs Raul back to attention and the entire group proceeds to turn back around and stare at Rocco.

RAUL: Time to die, papi.

Rocco looks around desperately for something to defend himself. Out of the corner of his eye he sees what remains of the plastic baggy, still somewhat full with right powder. He quickly picks it up and reaches out towards the oncoming Raul and smiles.

ROCCO: Hey, want some coke?