Stan Rogers
Tag In, Tag Out 2: Old School Boogaloo
A young(ish) Stan Rogers is sat at a table in a tavern. A tavern that wouldnt look out of place in a Clint Eastwood movie. A tavern where Woodbine smoke and beer appears to be the default smell. He is surrounded by four similarly large men who unlike Rogers - have had the good grace to wear civilian clothes in a public place. Rogers, on the other hand, has opted for an outfit of black, high-wasted wrestling trunks and black wrestling boots. After all, you never know when you might be called upon to wrestle. The veteran wrestler and strongman slams down his tankard on a table already littered with glasses, bottles, tankards and cigarettes.
... and then I said, I said we can do this the easy way, or... or the hard way!
Actually Stan, that was me.
Shut up!
What? I think youve had a bit too much to drink, Stan.
You leave m-my wife out of this! Shes a lovely, lovely lady!
I didnt say anything about your wife.
You may be my tag team partner, but youre not so smart!
I think its time to go now, Stan.
Im... I punch you in the face.
Dont punch me.
Shut up!
The wrestling veteran makes a fist with his right hand. He slowly and drunkenly lifts up his arm. And then...
"LOU!"
Stan Rogers immediately sits up in bed. Beads of sweat run off of his bald head. There is silence in the dark room, save for the sharp intakes of breath by Rogers. The darkness of the room is broken only by the streams of moonlight which enter the bedroom through the gaps in the thick drapes. Also woken from their slumber is
Rogers wife. Well, Rogers eighth wife, to be exact.
Stan! What the hell!
Sorry. I, erm, need to go make a phone call.
Rogers leaves the room, wrapping his 6 foot 3 inch frame in a cashmere dressing gown as he walks. Yes, even the mighty Stan Rogers enjoys comfortable nightwear. He is still breathing heavily as he makes hi s way down the stairs, passing photographs of everything from his wrestling accomplishments to his great-grandchildren. In the lounge, he reaches for the telephone and proceeds to dial.
Ahoy hoy.
With exasperation heavy in his voice, an evidently tired Alex Brigstocke answers.
Hello Stan.
I cant do this tag team thing.
What? Why? Is this because of what happened on Ascension? Look, Cougar is a complicated guy. Hes a veteran of the company; of course hes going to be a bit hard on you. Have you never been hazed before?
Its not that. Well, its that a bit. Im not happy about how he spoke to me. Like... like I was nothing. And the fact that it was filmed just adds insult to injury. It was my debut an-
Stan! Its early in the morning, weve got a big day tomorrow. What is it?
It was the dream. It happened again.
Oh no. Not the dream.
Are you mocking me, son?
Stan, its three oclock in the morning. I really havent got time for this. What do you want to do? Quit? Give up on a title opportunity? Give up on Stantime?
What? What in the blue hell is Stantime?
Um, its the tag team name.
No its not. There ain't going to be a tag team.
This is a title shot. Pretty much every wrestler in the world would want to be in your position.
I know. But Ive never been able to tag with others. And this dream, it was like a pemonition. A premotion. It was like I could see into the future.
So what, because you punched one of the greatest wrestlers to have ever lived who also happened to be your tag team partner you can never tag again?
Well, um, yeah.
Youve got an interview with Becky Serra tomorrow. You want to pull out, you announce it then. Im going back to sleep.
=====
Sat in a plush hotel suite, Stan Rogers and Becky Serra are already in the middle of the interview. Its the kind of hotel where marble floors are the norm and classic renaissance paintings adorn the patterned walls. Stans agent, Alex Brigstocke, stands behind the camera set-up tentatively watching the conversation unfold. The gruff, Midwestern voice of Rogers is in direct contrast to Serras perky, female tone.
So as we come to the end of the interview, what are your thoughts on not only your opponents at Meltdown, but also your partner, Showtime Cougar?
Wait, who are my opponents?
Jackson Williams and Ewan Kampa.
Really? They got contracts? Its like WZCW will let anyone in these days. It will be like wrestling with my young grandchildren who I always beat, by the way. Not only can they not get it done in the ring, their charisma... its like... it doesnt exist. I mean, holy crap, what moron signs these people?
And your partner? He seemed to show some disdain for you at Ascension.
Meh, hes Canadian.
Im sorry?
Hes Canadian. Im not going to pay attention to what he says.
Serra looks to her producer, clearly unaware of how to deal with a 265 pound, borderline xenophobic wrestler.
Um, Mr. Rogers, with all due respect, what does-
Let me tell you whats wrong with Canadians. They want to be us. They love the cold. They love hockey. Theyre violent. They have Thanksgiving in October. They talk funny...
But some of the best wrestlers in history have been Canadian.
But not the best. You want to know why? Because Im the best. The best in the world. And Im St. Louis born and bred, son.
OK, thank you Stan. Thats all we have time for.
As Serra turns to the camera, Stan moves uncomfortably in his seat. He clearly wants to say something else, but just cant seem to find the words very much a rarity for Rogers.
Some may love him and some may hate him, But Stan Rogers is-
Ms. Serra, can I can I just stop you? I need to say something. At both Meltdown and Apocalypse, I will not...
Rogers eyes catch his friend and confidant Alex Brigstocke amidst the jungle of cameras, technicians and wires. He is using both his hands to motion a belt around his waist.
I... I will not take any crap from David Cougar! If he wants to treat me like dirt, fine. But I am not a man who will take it lying down. He may be a veteran of WZCW. But Im a veteran of wrestling. If he wants to slap me in the face, I wont stop him. But I will punch him in return. Because slapping is for girls. And believe me, I punch a lot harder than he slaps.