MD 103: Blade vs. The Beard

[Richard Blonoff]

Blade has had his fair share of strange individuals to fight. Last week was perhaps his strangest, Diabolos. He earned a victory, though it may seem a hollow DQ. Now, for his efforts, he comes against the most destructive force in WZCW, The Beard. The Beard has been on a tear of WZCW's heroes... Can Blade finally slay the monster, or will Beard add another hero to his list?

Deadline is Thursday, April 10th, 11:59 PM CST. Extensions available on request

 

[Blade]

In a slightly divey pub, about half full, Blade sits on a stool at the bar, glass of scotch to the side, a notebook in front of him. He scribbles something down, looks at it for a moment, then shakes his head and crosses it out. He grabs his scotch and takes a drink. With a smack of his lips, he looks up at the bartender, who’s watching the football match on TV.

“Jimmy.” Blade pipes up.

The bartender grunts back. Blade knows he has enough of his attention.

“At the end of day, what is it that makes a man a success?” Blade asks.

The bartender turns towards Blade, a look of bewilderment. “What the hell are you talking ‘bout?” he replies.

“Every person who has ever been successful… They all must surely have something in common right? A trait or quality. Or lack thereof. Something that separates them from the average person. How do we find out what it is and do we find out who has it?”

A man sits down two seats to Blade’s right and orders a beer.

“I think it’s safe to say that I don’t have it,” the bartender mumbles as he serves the beer to the customer.

“I’m being serious. If we could figure out what every successful person has in common, couldn’t we all, in theory, become successful?”

The customer two seats down from Blade lets out a wheezy chuckle. He’s an older gent, with those certain wrinkles that let Blade know he’s a fellow smoker. “It’s all about money, lad,” the old man begins, “not just how much money you end up with, but how you get the money. Someone who has the success bred into them will always find a way to get their hands on cash.”

“And you’re an authority on this, Bob?” chimes in the bartender.

“I feckin’ am!” says the old man, Bob, raising his voice.

“What about Mother Teresa! She hardly made a ton of money!”

“You’d consider her a successful person?”

“You wouldn’t?”

Blade looks on, entertained by this bizarre debate, sipping on his scotch.

*************************************************

It’s nearly an hour later. A crowd of patrons are around Blade, yelling out their idea of success, as Blade finishes his third scotch.

“It’s about material possessions. You’re only successful if you can show it!”

“Blade…?”

“What about love? How can you have a successful life if you don’t have love?”

“Blade….?”

“You’re such a feckin’ tool!”

“Blade!”

“You’re the whole feckin’ toolbox!”

“BLADE!” comes a scream from a female voice.

The bickering amongst the crowd stops, and they split like the red sea. Standing at the end is Becky Serra, looking exasperated from her attempts in getting Blade’s attention.

“Oh. Hey Becky.”

He drains the end of his drink and hops off his bar stool. As he walks through the chattering crowd, a man sidles up next to Becky, about ten years her senior. Before he can even open her mouth to hit on her, she walks away to an empty table. She sits down, and Blade takes a seat across from her.

“Charming place you've picked,” she sighs.

“It’s got lots of character,” Blade smirks.

“That’s a word people use when describing ugly buildings.”

“Fair enough. You want a drink?”

“I’m on the job,” she snipes.

“C’mon, it’s more like a party when you’re around me.” He raises his hand towards to bar, holding up two fingers. The barman nods. “So what’s up, Becky?”

“Just came for an interview. Y’know, as I do nearly every week, genius.”

“Ouch. You are touchy tonight.”

“Shut up and talk.” She pulls out her recorder.

“It’s a funny thing, I was trying to figure out today what makes for a successful person. Something that I might be missing. I’ve seen many of my opponents lately surpass me, while I’m stuck in this comfortable little rut of mine. Both the Beard and Triple X, two of my fiercest recent opponents in recent memory, have gone from strength to strength. Meanwhile, Bob was retired by Diabolos. There’s some kind of pattern there.”

“Nice guys finish last?”

“Nice guys don’t finish at all. Meanwhile, successful guys take what they want. X took that number one contender spot. When the Beard was first handed that King for a Day briefcase, he held it like it had been his all along. I’ve never really taken what I want, I just assumed that people get what they deserve when they put in the work.”

“This coming from the man who once thought it was his destiny to be World Champion.”

“I may have thought it was my destiny, but at least I was willing to work for it. And now, with Diabolos… I didn’t wait for my opportunity to get revenge, I just… Took my revenge. Like I never did with Triple X. And it felt really good.”

“Well, you also have the opportunity to take revenge of the Beard on Meltdown.”

The waiter puts down a couple of drinks on the table. Blade takes a sip of his scotch. Becky ignores hers.

“Yeah. I was there when the Beard “arrived.” It was because of me that he got his hands on that King for a Day briefcase. I was in that chamber, and I had my sights on the victory until some… Complications arose.”

“Triple X…”

“Exactly. I got eliminated. Then I returned the favour, and the Beard just happened to be the right place at the right time. He is where he is because of me, because I helped him. But, in his own head, where that tiny wind-up monkeys claps his cymbals, he thinks he did it all on his own.

With that briefcase, the Beard is now a king. But kings are obsolete in this day and age. Do you know why we’re not ruled by kings anymore? They sit on their thrones, and they look down on the average person, they look down on the peasants, they look down on the crowds. I happen to be someone who fights for all those people that Beard surely looks down upon. But they can’t fight for themselves. And that’s where I come in. Kings get egotistical, and they become corrupt and they only do what’s best for themselves, and not what’s best for the people. Until there comes a revolution.

Beard, even if I’ve changed lately, I still listen to these people. And they say that they don’t want you as their king. They want a revolution, and it’s coming. You’ll try to use that fear and intimidation that you always use on your opponents. But that’s not going to work on me. I’m going to walk into Meltdown, with a smirk on my face, ready to take you down. Because kings fall. Kings get overthrown. And kings get beheaded.”

 

[Theo Mays]

It’s quiet as a light wind brushes through the trees. A feint rustling of leaves is all that is heard as the wind has shifted to a light breeze. The clouds grey, the sky a dark purple. Rain is on the way as two men appear from the bushes. The two men, wearing hooded cloaks, remove the hoods to reveal Dr. Zeus and Beard. Zeus points ahead as Beard nods.

Our conquest lies ahead.
For he is the maker of his death bed.
He who thinks he can slay the Beard, oh Blade.
For he is the next hero on your crusade.

Beard begins to rub his fingers together before whipping the rain from atop his forehead.

Blade once had a promising future. He had destiny and then he went away. And he came back a changed man. A man who wanted the admiration of the people. He developed a conscious. He now seeks revenge for a fallen cohort. A competitor I was fond of, a man who I always enjoyed to get in the ring with. That man was Grizzly Bob. I defeated him prior to Kingdom Come last year to earn the manliest man moniker. A moniker bestowed upon a real man, a working man, a man of the people. But I am not a man of the people. Blade would soon find that to be true as I ridded him of something he covets, the World Championship.

Beard’s voice is rasp but you can feel his emotion as he continues his history lesson.

Blade must know of the history.
The results of failure, not his seeking of glory.
And now he is a desperate man.
But he does not possess the master plan.

Thus brings us to King for a Day and once again Blade falls short as I stand tall. Blade’s misfortunes have led to my ascension. Blade will once again suffer, but this for the final time. As he will join his comrades out in the pasture. Unless of course Blade realizes his worth and accepts his fate. Channel the former Blade and join the fight to destroy this dreaded company. But you are now one of them Blade. You thrive off their every move as you await their approval. Tell me Blade, when did that come in handy for Titus? For Saboteur? For Theron? For your buddy Grizzly Bob? All of those men have fallen victim at my hands and history shows you will too Blade. There is no changing history, my wrath of destruction is a history in the making.

The two men stop in their tracks and remove their hoods. Beard reaches down and grabs a shovel as he starts to dig. Dirt flies through the air, chunk by chunk as Zeus stands by idly.

Dig, dig until the end.
Dig the grave where his body will spend.
Piece by piece, bit by bit.
A burial for your heroes, as they quit.

Beard steps out of the grave as he whips his brow. The camera pans out to reveal tombstones with the names of those who have fallen to Zeus and Beard. Many tombstones remain covered as Beard pulls the cover off the one belonging to the grave he just dug. On the tombstone reads the name of Beard’s opponent, Blade.

I warned you Blade, this will be your fate. You will join the others who tried to stop. And many more will follow until the final grave is dug. The fate of existence is in my hands and I’m the man who will be the gravedigger. Nothing will stop me. Vega, Theron, Titus, Califa, Warren, Runn, and certainly not you Blade. I assure you the future isn’t pretty, the future is dark, it’s scary. It won't be a very enjoyable experience. Be glad that I get to put you out of your misery come Meltdown Blade because some won't be so lucky.

Beard falls to his knees as the rain has picked up. Beard grabs piles of dirt and throws it into the skies as it rains down upon Beard’s exposed face as a rare smile is bestowed upon it.