WrestleZone Weekend '13: The Beard vs. Grizzly Bob (Three Stages of Manliness)

[Harthan]

Right before the unprecedented Pay-Per-View known as Kingdom Come, WZCW will be featuring a special fan access weekend where everybody who has purchased tickets can participate in an array of activities such as autograph signings, a WZCW '13 video game tournament and most importantly, a special bonus show where WZCW Superstars will be set to compete in a number of matches. The Beard & Grizzly Bob will be facing off in a series of competitions known only as the "Three Stages of Manliness" where multiple events such will be hosted by Action Saxton to determine which man is truly the manliness... and if it ends in a tie, an extra match will be taking place to settle the score!

Deadline is Thursday July 25, 2013 @ 11:59 P.M. (Central). No Extensions​

 

[Theo Mays]

Hey you!

Beard looks up, confused as he points to himself as the voice of a man with red, white, and blue Amercian flag pants, white t-shirt, tinted sunglasses, and an American flag bandana shouts out of the screen known as Mr. Rex

Yes, you with the face.

Beard nods in approval.

Do you think you are a man?

Beard nods slowly as he is hooked to this infomercial.

Well you’re not!

Beard shakes his head no though the look on his face seems to agree with Mr. Rex.

Be a man and order Mr. Rex’s manly man kit. You’ll be more of a man than Action Saxton. Dial now bitches!

Beard grabs the phone in a trance as he dials the number and places the order. Nearly immediately the doorbell ring as Beard rushes to the door. Beard swings the door open as a man is holding a package.

Are you a Mr. um, Beard?

The delivery man stares up at Beard with a questionable look as Beard returns a similar one.

Seriously?

Just take this and sign here.

The delivery man slams a package into Beard’s chest and a clipboard as Beard gives the man his John Hancock as they both move on with their lives. Beard hurries upstairs to open his Mr. Rex’s manly man kit. Beard opens up the box as a beam of light screams up to the ceiling as a beautiful voice of an angel lets out a feint “ahhhh”. This is soon cut off by the voice of the very one, Mr. Rex.

Are you ready to be a man Mr. Beard?

Yes.

What’s that you little fairy man.

I said yes.

Do you kiss your mother with that sissy mouth.

Yes. Wait what?

Haha, every time bitch. Get ready my bearded protégé, it is time to be a man!

Beard digs through the box frantically as Emily pops into the room, puzzled.

What are you doing hun?

Look I’m a man. I’m wearing a bandana.

Emily bursts out in laughter, to the point that her water nearly breaks. Emily motions out of the room before shouting out.

Beardette, Beardette. Get over here.

Beardette turns the corner and nearly falls in a pool of laughter at the site of her brother in Amercian slacks, a bandana, and a very tight collared shirt.

Grizzly Bob doesn’t stand a chance in these.

Beard holds his pants out as he is overly impressed with them as Emily nor Beardette are too impressed.

Babe, you are less of a man in those pants. And trust me, you are more than this manly man Mr. Rex.

Yeazes, yeazou areaze a meazan andeaz weaze leazove yeazou.

Beard looks on with a scowl on his brow and some ridiculously tinted sunglasses across his face as Emily and Beardette continue to laugh on as a pause in the laughter comes caused by Beard’s ringing cell phone. A very familiar Jewish tune that freezes everyone in their place.

Yellow?

Umm, green?

A pause in the conversation as the voice of WZCW legend, The Local Talent is on the other line.

Beardo? Is that you.

Well I’ll be a monkey’s uncle. Talent?

I hear you are in a 3 stages of manliness match. I love them.

I’m not even sure-

It’s a secret. But I’m in town. Let me help you prepare.
Sounds good, cya soon?

Beard is disconnected as he holds the phone confused until the doorbell rings. Beard storms down the stairs and flings the door open. Standing there, naked was The Local Talent in all his glory (or lack thereof).

You always catch me with my pants down.

The two men embrace in a hug so manly that Mr. Rex’s manly man kit box lets out an envious groan.

We have no time to waste. I need some sweet American flag pants, tinted shades, and a bandana.

Talent looks at Beard and gives his former teammate a thumbs up.

Good you got the memo. Now for the materials. We need raw eggs, a meat locker, lots of marble stairs, and a Thunderlips autograph.

The two men head into the kitchen as Beard cracks open the fridge and begins cracking eggs into two glass cylinders. Beard begins to jog in place as Talent looks on at the eggs as if they have three heads. Beard holds up his glass as Talent slowly and reluctantly raises his for a toast. The glasses clink and Beard chugs down nearly a dozen of eggs as Talent manages to swallow his two eggs. Impressed with himself and Talent, Beard begins to go for a run. Talent also impressed follows suit, but the minute the door opens Talent spews his lunch, the eggs, and what looks to be a bowlful of hummus all over Beard’s front porch. As the vomit drips from his chin Talent tries to keep up with his partner as a church choir appears from a side building.

He’s a man, such a man….

Such a man!

We cut to the meat locker where we see a boxer and his trainer hammering down on some hanging meat. In the background is Beard who is ripping through some meat of his own. Talent dabbles on his small flank of meat. Beard punches and chews and punches and chews. Meanwhile Talent chews and spews and spews some more.

Beard you are a machine! And now (gulp), the stairs.

There is only one set of marble stairs worthy of this challenge.

The scene cuts and we see Beard and Talent standing in front of a gargantuan building.

The brick structure with the most marble stairs in the world building.

I think we can skip this step.

With these manly calves and long legs I think we can skip a couple steps.

I don’t think you get what I mean.

Beard is already off and running as Talent slowly follows him. Halfway through Talent collapses and begins convulsing in place.

I’m, I’m gonna be sick.

Beard tramples down the stairs drenched in sweat and looking about 15 pounds lighter. The sweat flowing from the beard forms large puddles around Beard. Beard reaches Talent, who is still passed out on the halfway walk. Beard lays down next to his dying partner, who reaches out to him. Talent’s voice is hoarse as he continues dry heaving.

Don’t leave me.

Beard looks at Talent in a vintage BLT way.

I love you.

I love you too?

I love you more than La Gentleman Maskay

It’s Le Gentleman Masque, but what’s that have to do with this?

I’m dying Beardy. I’m going to miss you.

With that Talent does a Looney Tunes esque like kill off of himself as Beard rolls his eyes and waits for Talent to come back to earth. After minutes of waiting Beard dumps a pail of ice cold water over Talent, who immediately jumps to his feet and starts running in circles frantically.

Kingdom Come is this weekend.

I know.

And I’m not on the main card.

Which is the biggest travesty since that thing happened to that guy up in Montreal that caused him to leave the company he loved with a lifelong feeling of anger.

I think they made up a few years ago.

Oh that’s nice.

I don’t see it as a travesty though. Last year we shared the biggest stage in professional wrestling together. This year I’m alone, but I’ve grown both as a wrestler and an individual. I’m a former tag team champion and the crowd loves me no matter the wins or losses. Sure the wins have been rare these days, but I’m not going to get broken up about it. Hell I’m not even going to worry about it. I’m living the dream of all those Beardos out there. I’m doing it for them. And while I’m not on the main card, I’m still going to go out there and entertain all my Beardos and steal the Kingdom Come weekend show with a wrestler I respect almost as much as you, Grizzly Bob. A three stages of manliness contest hosted by the jiving soul brotha himself, Action Saxton has showstealer written all over it. And I want you to be there.

Beard drops a ticket to Kingdom Come weekend into the hand of Local Talent. Tears begin to fill those Jewish blue eyes as he can’t contain his emotion as he braces Beard in a giant hug. Beard tips his proverbial hat to Talent as he runs back down the stairs. Talent stares into the sunset as Beard amazingly runs down the stairs.

I’m gonna make Beard proud.

Talent stands up as some very appropriate training montage music blares in the background. Talent turns his head to see backstage worker Bob and a giant boombox, breakdancing atop the stairs. Talent begins his run down. A smile on his face and a smile in his heart. That is until sweat reaches his eyes blinding him for a brief second. Talent trips over his shoelace and a slow motion no leaves his vocal box as his Kingdom Come Weekend ticket flies through the air into hurricane like winds. Talent tumbles down the marble stairs before reaching the bottom. Completely in tears talent reaches out to the sunset.

Beard, come back!!!!

Dear Journal,

“If you are humble, nothing will touch you, neither praise nor disgrace, because you know who you are.”

-Mother Teresa

I look in the mirror and I can finally smile. Nothing can hold me down and nothing can hold me back. This wacky world I live in; it is time to embrace it. My closest friends are a man in a mask, an alien, and a retired Jewish professional wrestler who has about as much luck as the Kennedy family. And I wouldn’t change that for the world. When I first came into the business all I wanted to do was win and win big. Now, I just want to put on a show. Winning is a bonus and a good one. My checkbook can tell you that. But seeing the face of a smiling child makes all the fears of life going away. My life is developing and changing by the minute. Kingdom Come is a new day for The Beard, a day that will be sure to be wacky and unforgettable. I set battle on a stage that last year I was in a triple threat tag team TLC match with Strikeforce and Runn Reynolds Runn. We were an afterthought in the match, the mystery piece. This time I go solo and it is no mystery. WZCW knows what they are getting; a manly man with a kick ass beard and some pretty badass chesty hairs. Grizzly Bob is a man I respect and someone I hope to call a friend some day. However this is a must win. I need to beat Grizzly Bob. I need to prove to the fans and the guys and gals in the back that I am a winner and someone to be feared. All the ammo is there for me. This guy ruined my chance at a guaranteed spot on the Kingdom Come card by eliminating me in the Lethal Lottery. And no matter this bond that we have developed there is tension lying underneath. Unfinished business so to say as Beardette ruined our first encounter. It all comes crashing down at Kingdom Come weekend. Come this weekend, it won’t just be the fear of The Beard that will strike down upon WZCW, it will be the fear of a real man that scares them.

 

[Dirk]

The blade glides over a tautly stretched throat.

It gets pulled away as it pierces the skin.

A thin trickle of blood-red crimson follows.

Grizzly: Oh, come on!

After being jostled, Grizzly Bob pivots around and bends over, sternly facing his canine companion.

Grizzly: Do you have to sneak up on Daddy like that, boy?

Playfully, Digger leans against Grizzly’s knees with all his weight and his owner’s face softens.

Grizzly: One o’ these days, I’m gonna stop fallin’ for that lovable mug... then you’re in big trouble, big boy!

He wrestles his dog to the ground and pets him behind the ears.

Grizzly: Now scoot... go sniff out a mole or sum’thin’, I want a good trim, so’s I can look good for Kingdom Come!

The wooden bathroom floor creaks as the Rottweiler scampers off, leaving Grizzly alone with a mirror and a cutthroat razor. He finishes up his trim – taking care not to knick himself again – and folds away the blade. After washing the remaining shaving foam off his face, he unscrews the bottle under the basin. He pours a few drops of the bourbon out over his thumb and presses that against his cut, wincing. Again he splashes his face with ice cold water, removing the liquor’s odour. After inspecting his new, neatly groomed beard, Grizzly spots the pair of eyes in the mirror. He pauses for a few moments, nothing more, before turning away and stepping outside of his home.

A beautiful sunset greets Grizzly. He enjoys a lost, last few rays of light as blue faded to copper. The earthy smell of soot and grass mixes with the sound of the breeze cutting through tree branches. At home here – hidden from the world – Grizzly breathes in the mountain air, before striding to the clearing next to his home.

It was a busy day – after a long morning of training and running a few errands in town, he had dug another hole in the clearing that afternoon. It was high time to plant another sapling.

Grizzly walks off to the side of the cabin, where the plant is propped-up against. He grabs it by the stem and returns to the hole. Along the way, he gets joined by Digger. Despite his efforts (belied by his muddy muzzle), Digger arrives without any mole. What he did track, however, is a half-empty packet of cigarettes! He drops it at his master’s feet.

Grizzly: Good boy! Wait a sec... these ain’t mine...

He flips the pack over, giving the slobbered label a closer look.

Grizzly: Marlboro Reds... Finders, keepers, I guess... Thanks, Blade!

Grizzly pockets the loot as man and dog make their way to the extensive clearing, where dozens of evenly-spaced saplings are planted. The trees are separated by a couple of yards, allowing them to grow without having to compete for sunlight. Grizzly lifts the newest addition to his project and removes the plastic and potting soil surrounding its roots, freeing them up. The shovel he used to dig the hole with is still firmly planted in the ground, so Grizzly lowers the young Douglas fir into the opening and shovels the dirt back onto its base. He tosses the shovel aside and gets to his knees, scooping the last bit of soil with his bare hands. The crumbling earth feels good in his hands. He snatches a few seconds to look at them, but only a few, before dusting them off. He stays knelt on the ground, however, when a few of the day’s pressing thoughts were washing through his mind.

Grizzly would not call himself a very superstitious man, but ever since the Lethal Lottery, it would seem that a higher power saw fit to pit him against-

Grizzly: Digger!

...against a man he admires very much. In the past, Grizzly acknowledged The Beard for his accolades in the tag-division and his amazing facial hair, but now he realises that-

Grizzly: Not now, boy! Gimme a sec!

...that the real reason he values The Beard is his courage and the strength-

Grizzly: DIGGER! WOULD YOU CUT THAT OUT?

Digger stops lapping at Grizzly’s feet and shoots him a puzzled look. Grizzly shakes his head at himself. He sits down on the ground and pulls his dog closer.

Grizzly: I’m sorry for yelling at you. I know you mean well, boy.

Apparently, all is forgiven as Digger rests his enormous head on the shoulder of Grizzly, who wraps his arms around Digger’s torso.

Grizzly: I don’t expect you to understand what’s keepin’ Daddy on edge. You’ve always been top dog, I don’t s’pose you ever had a single moment of self-doubt in your whole life.

Grizzly smiles as he sees his dog’s tail wag proudly. He gets to his feet and looks Digger in the eye.

Grizzly: Daddy needs some alone-time. You stay here, top dog...

With that, Grizzly treads off into the woods. Digger watches him leave, but even before Grizzly was out of sight, a bright yellow butterfly distracts him. Meanwhile, after about two hours’ worth of uneventful hiking, Grizzly arrives at an isolated part of the mountains. He takes off his customary flannel shirt and catches his breath. In the poor evening light, he locates a log to sit on. It groans as the big man comes to rest on it. The only sound that can be heard is Grizzly’s breathing.

It’s not slowing down, however...

His heaving, hairy chest bellows back and forth. With a grim look, he stares at the moon – his only company – and the nagging thoughts return like a shot to the skull:

Beard stirs back up to his feet and reaches down to grab Bob’s head. He pulls him up and kicks his gut. Bob is in prime position for Beard to tuck the head and perform a snap suplex, and he does!

His eyes close and his fists tighten. When Grizzly had met The Beard in the ring, it wasn’t a game of rock, paper, scissors – they were two boulders hammering into each other, giving each other their best shots.

Bob grabs his forehead as he turns around to face his opponent, but instead of Beard he only sees a big boot planted right between his eyes. Bob drops to the mat, and Beard makes the cover.

Yet somehow, The Beard could handle everything he could throw at him when they were alone in that ring. Grizzly knew that two fluke victories over The Beard caused by a giant or by his well-meaning sister looked good on paper, but didn’t mean anything on canvas.

With his chin clamped down to his bare chest, Grizzly draws in pints of determined air. The fixed furrow between his bushy brows becomes even more prominent.

Klamor: Come now, Bobby-boy, why so angry? I’m just pointing out that The Beard is more of a man than you.

Breaking point...

The log dips, but props back up when Grizzly’s boots crash into the dirt, rocketing him to his feet. His eyes open wildly and he raises his fists to his sides. He glares at the moon once more and releases a pent-up, primal roar.

In the distance, flocks of Mountain Bluebirds can be heard, scattering from their nests. Grizzly drops to his knees as the savage sound still escapes his throat. Droplets of spit fly from his mouth and form pieces of clay in the dust.

The last, hoarse tones empty his lungs and Grizzly comes to rest on all fours. Eventually, his breathing slows to normal and he rests his sweaty head on his forearm as the echo of his angst fades away. Time passes.

Just as Grizzly regains his composure, he hears a brief, but rhythmic snapping of twigs. His nostrils flare, but they don’t register the smells of smoke or gasoline. No vehicle is nearby, yet he knows he is not alone.

Grizzly: Hello?

No response...

Grizzly: Anybody out here? Don’t mind me, just havin’ me one tough sum’bitch of a week...

Still no response...

Grizzly’s instinct gets the better of his reasoning and he sneaks off the trail, in the direction of the disturbance. He gets his hands on a small rock and a sturdy stick, just in case a few of the poachers he sabotaged made their way back to his neck of the woods. Cautious, but in control of himself, he proceeded into the mountainside, ducking around boulders and bushes... straight into a snarl.

Grizzly dropped the stick and the stone, in awe of the magnificent animal towering in front of him. In the moonlight, Grizzly could still make out the dark pelt, the deceptively dangerous claws and the gaping maw of a grizzly bear. It stays up on its hind legs, growling at him.

Grizzly: Easy, there, Yogi... I’m no poacher.

He raises his arms and does a complete turn.

Grizzly: No guns neither...

The bear swipes at a tree in a display of strength. Its claws leave deep gashes in the bark. Respectfully, but keeping upright, Grizzly keeps the gaze of the bear.

Grizzly: You know, that right there is a Red Mulberry tree? It’s very rare in these parts, just so you know...

The bear takes a step forward to grunt at Grizzly.

Grizzly: Okay, okay, nevermind, I’ll plant one soon’s I get ‘round to it.

The grizzly comes to rest on its front paws.

Grizzly: I also need to ‘pologize. I didn’t mean to wake you, I just needed to lake a load off. I’ll be headin’ home now, so-

Two smaller shapes were clumsily catching up to the bear. Grizzly squints his eyes to make them out in the dark.

Grizzly: Is that...?

The bear groans. Grizzly enjoys the sight immensely as the bear has some difficulty keeping itself between its curious cubs and Grizzly. He chuckles as the cubs wander closer, only to be tugged back by the big bear. Eventually they each pick a leg to cuddle against and the fully grown bear looks back at Grizzly.

That instant, an overwhelming sense of calm washed over Grizzly. He breathes a deep, comforted sigh and relaxes his stance a little.

Grizzly: Thank you for showin’ me this.

He takes measured steps back in the opposite direction, still taking in the image of these three bears. As he backs away after a while, the bear herds its cubs back to their den. They reluctantly return, leaving Grizzly alone with the bear in the distance. A last, defensive growl reverberates through the evergreens and Grizzly nods at the bear. He turns around and finds his shirt near the fallen log. He stuffs half of it into his pocket and starts to trek home.

Once he gets near his cabin, he pauses for a few minutes, ending his night-time stroll. He sees the tracks of his red pick-up leading to his shed.

Grizzly: No matter how many tyres you change...

He checks his throat for the spot where he scraped himself.

Grizzly: No matter what’s growin’ on your chin...

He picks up the beer bottles littering his porch and tosses them into an empty trash can.

Grizzly: No matter how many cold ones you can sling back...

He puts his hand on the door and hears Digger’s excited whimpering.

Grizzly: It’s knowin’ who gives you the strength to fight and about acknowledgin’ them, protectin’ them and cherishin’ them – THAT’s what makes you a man!

Grizzly yanks the door open, only to be welcomed by an oncoming, sprinting Digger.

Grizzly: DADDY’S HOME!