One Game at a Time...

[fdcm]

We enter the backstage area of Dover Air Force Base mere moments before our scheduled main event of the evening, the World Heavyweight Championship match. FDCM stands in an anonymous hallway, already dressed to compete, complete with his ring robe, his shades, his women, his gigantic jewelry and of course, the POW World Heavyweight Title strapped securely around his waist.

But as he stares, mouth agape, at a monitor depicting the events of the most recent POW Midwest show, his attention is clearly elsewhere.

FDCM: What...the...hell...

Erikson and Shadix walk to Rich and Shadix tags in Morrison. Morrison comes in as Shadix and Erikson step onto the apron in the same corner. Stevens eyes go from shock to fury as he climbs into the ring. He walks over to Rich and stands over him. He shakes his head in disgust, then a huge grin breaks out across his face as he stares towards Erikson. Rich's eyes go wide in shock.

Pilgrim: What is going on?!

Stevens sticks his hand out and the crowd goes dead silent as Morrison shakes it.

Pilgrim: HELL HAS JUST FROZE OVER!
Almanti: THIS WAS THE BEST SETUP EVER![/color]

FDCM: How can they be on the same side...I saw them fight...I was the one physically restraining Shawn while they tried to rip each other apart...

Shadix and Erikson climb into the ring. Benny Lawson looks confused as all hell, but Erikson slides on his brass knucks and knocks the ref out. The crowd lets out a tremendous show of disapproval as Shadix shoves Lawson out of the ring. Stevens and Rich both grab microphones as trash is being thrown into the ring. The four men are laughing with huge smiles on their faces.[/color]

FDCM shakes his head in disbelief. Ken Rosenberg stands next to him in shocked silence. One of the FDC Girls rubs FDCM's shoulder reassuringly.

Rosenberg: This is bad.

FDCM: Yeah, no shit.

Rosenberg: No, this is REALLY bad. This is, like, all your worst enemies suddenly on the same page! It's like walking in on Saddam Hussein assf**king Satan...it's, it's like-

FDCM: LAWYER!!! Put a f**king sock in it, man! Do you think I don't see what just happened? Do you think I'm not inescapably aware of the situation?

Rosenberg: What the hell are we gonna do?

FDCM: Just...just shut up for a second. I'm trying to think.

For a few awkward moments, the entourage just stands staring as the recap footage wraps up and the screen is filled by a Power On Wrestling Logo. Suddenly, they get an unwelcome visitor...

Stephie: "Nothing surprises you anymore," eh, FDCM?

FDCM: Well if it isn't everyone's favorite obnoxious, on-the-rag...

Stephie: Hey. It isn't MY fault, OK?

FDCM: You know what...you're right.

Stephie: Right. Well in case the world has forgotten, there IS a world title match here tonight. So if you could pull your attention away from the Midwest for a minute, how about a last-minute pre-fight interview?

FDCM: Sure...why not...

FDCM and Stephie walk over in front of the obligatory "Over In Dover" wall banner. On the way, FDCM frustratedly punches a wall, shouting something to the effect of "NEVER trust a Nitorinski!" Stephie tests her mic and then brings it to her lips.

Stephie: I'm here with POW World Heavyweight Champion FDCM, who just moments before his first ever title defense against Eastern Heavyweight Champion JR Zevon, has received a shocking revelation! Champ, how does this affect your mindset going into a HUGE match?

FDCM: Well, Stephie...initially it was obviously quite shocking. You see all your worst enemies gathering on your doorstep, and it's like "wow, a normal man would want some help." But I am no normal man, am I? f**k no! I'm the WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION!! And a true Champion never needs anything but his own two fists. No one but himself...well, himself, and his lawyer, of course...and his dietician...personal trainer...his valet, and his other valet...his girlfriend...his wife...his mistress...his bodyguards...

Stephie: We are pressed for time, FDCM...

FDCM: Right, right. Well, fact of the matter is, right now, I'm on Mars from this situation. Part of being the World Champ is competing in two territories, and right now, that means this is none of my business. Sure, in a week or two when I go back to the Midwest there will be hell to raise. But for now...like you said, I've got a World Title defense to attend to.

Stephie: On that note...a certain "source" claims that your entire shtick is an act. That you attempt to throw people off by "acting" like a doofus, but you're really a strategic mastermind. How do you respond to that?

FDCM: Well, far be it from me to stop someone from calling me a genius if they want to...but do I really strike you as all that deep, Stephie-baby?

FDCM cocks his head awkwardly as he speaks. Stephie tries to read his eyes through his thick shades. There may be something else there...but then she realizes he's just trying to look down her blouse.

Stephie: No...can't say ya do... (that guy's obviously full of it...)

FDCM: Fair enough.

FDCM returns his head to a normal position, either giving up or already having seen all he wants to see. Stephie clears her throat and attempts to stay professional. Just a few more minutes with this ape...

Stephie: On the topic of shocking wrestler interviews...Zevon recently unveiled a, quote unquote, "Bleep the Troops" campaign...

FDCM: ...so?

Stephie: ...so, he called them "thugs" and burned an American flag...

FDCM: Don't care. I'm a heel. Stuff like that doesn't bother me.

Stephie: ...apparently, it's supposed to be a counter to Buddy Love's "Support the Troops" party...

FDCM: TIME OUT. Zevon is trying to stop a party!?

Stephie: Well, I suppose you could say...

FDCM: This will NOT be tolerated! Insult my country, sure. Insult my armed forces, hey, you're entitled to your opinion. You can even say you hate freedom and babies and virgins and shit. But do not ever...EVER...threaten a party in my presence!!!

FDCGirls, all in unison: YEAH!!!!

FDCM: We love parties!!! Zevon can say Bleep the Troops all he wants...but never Bleep Parties.

Stephie: Uh...huh. Well, it's sort of a typically dumb reporter question to ask, but how do you like your chances against Zevon tonight?

FDCM: You're right. It was a dumb question to ask.

FDCM's entourage gives him a supportive little laugh as he chuckles to himself and Stephie fumes.

FDCM: But in all seriousness...I feel like my chances are excellent. You see, I'm not one of these guys who's gonna sit here and call Zevon a hack, or say he doesn't deserve to be a champion. I don't doubt at all that he's the best POW New England has to offer. But the way I see it, he's sort of a big fish in a small pond...

Stephie: Oh? How do you mean?

FDCM: Keep your mouth shut for longer than 15 seconds and I'll tell you!! Jesus Christ, can you believe this broad...

Stephie stares with shocked anger, but says nothing.

FDCM: There!! See how much better that is? Yeah, you're much more attractive with your mouth closed...now, where was I...oh yeah, Zevon, big fish, small pond, right right right.

See, I see Zevon as being light years ahead of any of his peers here. Sure, he's pretty good, but is that why he's a champion? Nah. In any REAL territory, even in the Midwest, he's an upper midcarder at best. The kinda guy that people like me beat up on a weekly basis to keep looking stellar. But in this territory of scrubs and losers, he's a God. I mean, I've been here since Tuesday and I've seen like, three other guys even in the building training and preparing before the DAY of the show! That's not devotion! That's not desire! That's laziness. And yeah, in a company that welcomes mediocrity, I'm sure a guy like Zevon is king. But the fact of the matter is, anybody worth his salt could come to a pissant little promotion in Bumf**k, Nebraska...or Middle of Nowhere, North Dakota...or hell, even right here in Baltimore, Maryland...and in the company of pretenders, he'd look like an immortal. I plan on bringing Zevon back to Earth tonight.

Stephie: Are you insinuating that the men Zevon has beaten don't stack up to the men you've beaten?

FDCM: Sweetheart, I'm not only insinuating it, I'm flat out GUARANTEEING it. Look at who I've defeated to get here. Jay T. Nitro, Tito Capaci, Rich Morrison...guys that, apparently, can stop the world and make headlines just by sneezing. Who's Zevon beaten? Mick Cormack? John Anthony? No offense, but BIG...F'ING...DEAL. Tonight, Zevon faces a REAL championship caliber opponent, and I personally don't think he realizes what he's in for. Maybe his defeat tonight will wake him up to the truth, and he'll work to get even better. Maybe someday he'll really be good enough to stand across the ring from me. But right now...he's just small time. King of the POW Bush League. Not exactly pushing himself, is he?

Stephie: "Bush League!?" How dare you!

FDCM: Oh, don't get your panties in a bunch. Of course I didn't mean the reporters...I'd MUCH rather talk to YOU on a weekly basis then that little half-pint IWC nerd they've got in the Midwest! Sure, you're every bit as annoying, but at least you're stacked...

Stephie: I don't have to put up with this...

FDCM: Hey, you wanted to talk to ME, sugar.

Stephie: Well, that's the end of this interview. Any parting words?

FDCM: Yeah, actually...Nixon sucked!!

Stephie stares uncomprehendingly. FDCM just shrugs. Sighing and shaking her head, Stephie turns and walks off in a huff. FDCM cocks his head once more, appreciatively watching her go.

FDCM: Ah, if only I could walk around with something like THAT...

Greeted with silence, FDCM turns to see his entire army of FDC Girls staring at him.

FDCM: Oh...right...I do. HAHA!!!

FDCM and his entourage turn back and head for the entryway as it becomes nearly matchtime. Rosenberg speaks nervously to FDCM as they walk.

Rosenberg: FDCM, we really need to figure something out for that Midwest situation...

FDCM: Gonna have to wait, Lawyer. This title defense is no "gimme"...I need to focus.

Rosenberg: But I thought you just told her...

FDCM: LAWYER!! You really don't understand this business at all, do you? You don't know how to say one thing and mean another!? How can you POSSIBLY be a half-decent lawyer!?

Lawyer: Good enough to get you out of about 9 trillion sexual harassment suits...

FDCM: And that's why I pay you!!!

FDCM offers Rosenberg an uncomfortably good-natured pat on the shoulder, as if this is all completely normal.

FDCM: Look. I'm gonna go out there and I'm gonna punt Zevon into next week. Then, we're gonna take my title, and we're gonna get in a limo and ride back to KC. And somewhere between here and there, we'll figure out how exactly I'm going to swoop back into the Midwest and blow all those snakes in the grass away.

Rosenberg: You have a plan?

FDCM: No. Not remotely. But that's why we take things one day at a time, one match at a time, one beer...at a time.

Rosenberg: What does that even mean?

FDCM: Hell, I dunno. Sounded good.

FDCM offers a final reassuring pat.

FDCM: Well...good luck.

With that, FDCM and his valets turn and head out towards the entryway.

Rosenberg: ...shouldn't I be wishing YOU luck?

FDCM: I don't need luck...I'm the CHAMP!!!

Without another word, FDCM heads out towards the ring to an explosive response from the crowd. But is he really prepared for all that awaits him...?