Post by George Duke on Feb 23, 2007 12:35:33 GMT -6
"That was a muthaf**ker, but I came out on top, right?"
"Right, George."
"I mean, he tossed me around a bit, but he didn't hurt me none. He just kept me from hurtin' him - that's my only regret. I'd buy him a beer if he was around, I would..."
"That's classy, George, it is."
"...then I'd throw the damn thing in his face. I'd wipe a bit off his big forehead and use it to shine my Valor Title. Haha!"
As if it weren't shined enough. George has already polished it twice since he got it, just a few days ago. It sits proudly on the Belt Rack with the SCCW Great Lakes Championship and the old BTW East Coast Championship. He's got three on a rack that holds five. Two of those belts are his forever - not too bad, really. George is celebrating his victory and he deserves it. He's stayed unbeaten and been under a lot of stress. The business is rough enough as it is, without traveling to Kansas City once a week. He's still fighting New Era Wrestling through lawyers. Maybe someday he'll get his GCW investment back. When they fired him, they breached contract. A blessing in disguise. He and Eihildarr had destroyed half the arena that night. He probably would have been forced to pay for all the damages, and then GCW went under - way under with it's new direction, anyway. George was publicly fired, which not only saved him from financial ruin, but actually will end up giving George some money after the legal battle is over. George deserves to unwind after his upset with Victor Bloodmoon. He knows full well that tomorrow, it's back to training. But you can't keep the booze away from the son of Irish and German immigrants for very long. Even still, he isn't drunk. Given his roots, that would be difficult, anyhow. George is "loose", but will be right as rain in the morning.
A jukebox in the corner spills out "Sympathy For the Devil", a few sing along. The pool table's overcrowded and the walls are covered with boxing bills and beer posters. He's at Fitz's, the guest of honor with a crowd of other wizened men around him. Friends, co-workers from the old dock job, local wrestlers and his old friend Frank Christian. Though he's about ten years younger than George, he needs a cane to get around. In his career he took too many risks, and not the right ones. His back finally gave out about a year ago. Oddly enough, it's what brought George back to active competing, to fulfill Frank's contract as a replacement. They laugh and drink the night away in the dimly lit den, talking about old times and sharing ring tales with the younger guys. Finally, Frank asks him about this upcoming week.
"Shawn Stevens? Haven't heard of him."
George laughs like a sack of gravel.
"He's 'sensational', don't you know? Haha! He's the Heavyweight Champion, though."
Frank smiles.
"Keeping it warm, is he?"
"Not even. He only got the title because I was in the Valor Tournament. If I had arrived a bit later than I did, I wouldn't be in the tourney at all. In fact, I was set, but some cocksucker dropped out. If not for that, I'd be the first POW Heavyweight Champion."
"Battle of Champions."
"Now that our paths cross, we'll see who the real champion is. If these people think they've seen George Duke be brutal before, they'll shit their pants when they see what happens this week. Everyone - especially Shawn Stevens - will know that I'm the real champion. They'll all know that I'm the best around these parts. When they see their so-called champion laying bloody on the mat, they'll know who the real champion is. You've seen me get really crazy and mad. POW hasn't. They have no idea what this old man is capable of. Stevens better hope I don't lose my temper, because then I might retire him. Call it a favor. A favor to the sport and a favor to a young man who could do nicely in another job. Stevens - wrestling is for real men. You can take your pretty-boy thing to Hollywood. Otherwise, go back to the Windy City."
Both men laugh as the camera pans out through the door. As the screen fades away, someone closes the door. Commotion and music can still be heard form inside as the camera continues out into the dark.
"Right, George."
"I mean, he tossed me around a bit, but he didn't hurt me none. He just kept me from hurtin' him - that's my only regret. I'd buy him a beer if he was around, I would..."
"That's classy, George, it is."
"...then I'd throw the damn thing in his face. I'd wipe a bit off his big forehead and use it to shine my Valor Title. Haha!"
As if it weren't shined enough. George has already polished it twice since he got it, just a few days ago. It sits proudly on the Belt Rack with the SCCW Great Lakes Championship and the old BTW East Coast Championship. He's got three on a rack that holds five. Two of those belts are his forever - not too bad, really. George is celebrating his victory and he deserves it. He's stayed unbeaten and been under a lot of stress. The business is rough enough as it is, without traveling to Kansas City once a week. He's still fighting New Era Wrestling through lawyers. Maybe someday he'll get his GCW investment back. When they fired him, they breached contract. A blessing in disguise. He and Eihildarr had destroyed half the arena that night. He probably would have been forced to pay for all the damages, and then GCW went under - way under with it's new direction, anyway. George was publicly fired, which not only saved him from financial ruin, but actually will end up giving George some money after the legal battle is over. George deserves to unwind after his upset with Victor Bloodmoon. He knows full well that tomorrow, it's back to training. But you can't keep the booze away from the son of Irish and German immigrants for very long. Even still, he isn't drunk. Given his roots, that would be difficult, anyhow. George is "loose", but will be right as rain in the morning.
A jukebox in the corner spills out "Sympathy For the Devil", a few sing along. The pool table's overcrowded and the walls are covered with boxing bills and beer posters. He's at Fitz's, the guest of honor with a crowd of other wizened men around him. Friends, co-workers from the old dock job, local wrestlers and his old friend Frank Christian. Though he's about ten years younger than George, he needs a cane to get around. In his career he took too many risks, and not the right ones. His back finally gave out about a year ago. Oddly enough, it's what brought George back to active competing, to fulfill Frank's contract as a replacement. They laugh and drink the night away in the dimly lit den, talking about old times and sharing ring tales with the younger guys. Finally, Frank asks him about this upcoming week.
"Shawn Stevens? Haven't heard of him."
George laughs like a sack of gravel.
"He's 'sensational', don't you know? Haha! He's the Heavyweight Champion, though."
Frank smiles.
"Keeping it warm, is he?"
"Not even. He only got the title because I was in the Valor Tournament. If I had arrived a bit later than I did, I wouldn't be in the tourney at all. In fact, I was set, but some cocksucker dropped out. If not for that, I'd be the first POW Heavyweight Champion."
"Battle of Champions."
"Now that our paths cross, we'll see who the real champion is. If these people think they've seen George Duke be brutal before, they'll shit their pants when they see what happens this week. Everyone - especially Shawn Stevens - will know that I'm the real champion. They'll all know that I'm the best around these parts. When they see their so-called champion laying bloody on the mat, they'll know who the real champion is. You've seen me get really crazy and mad. POW hasn't. They have no idea what this old man is capable of. Stevens better hope I don't lose my temper, because then I might retire him. Call it a favor. A favor to the sport and a favor to a young man who could do nicely in another job. Stevens - wrestling is for real men. You can take your pretty-boy thing to Hollywood. Otherwise, go back to the Windy City."
Both men laugh as the camera pans out through the door. As the screen fades away, someone closes the door. Commotion and music can still be heard form inside as the camera continues out into the dark.
