BOBBY DEAN vs. SAGE PONTIFF
Vince Howard: The following contest is scheduled for one fall!
“One fall!” says the crowd in response.
Vince Howard: Introducing first…
At first, darkness hits. Every light fades, causing a buzz among the crowd and a few cellphone camera lights to twinkle into existence. The video screen shows a single glowing orb at the top of the screen. Lavender. Then another beneath it, blue. Teal. Green. Yellow. Orange. Finally, red–and then around it, the shimmering outline of a human body in lotus position. This hold on the screen as an almost marching drumbeat begins, pulsing throughout the arena.
Lights come up, pink in tone, all in time with a psychedelic drone of distorted guitar noise. As the solo of what could very well be an electric sitar begins, a figure walks out from the back. More accurately, he damn near glides. His neck is hanging with the weight of what seem to be many different strands of prayer beads. He is barefoot, his calf length, baggy pants a frankly offensive patchwork of tie dye, paisley, and other patterns. Hanging to the floor is a long, linen kimono in pure white.
Vince Howard: From the High Desert, Joshua Tree, California, he weighs in tonight at two-hundred and one pounds…
Sage Pontiff has arrived, and he throws his head back, practically bathing in the rain of flower petals.
There is no up or down
Your truth is the only master
Death is made by the living
Pain is only intense to you
He begins to slowly make his way down the ramp, occasionally twirling and oftentimes doing respectful bows to certain members of the audience, kissing his fingertips and then touching his forehead.
Vince Howard: He is the Bodhisattva of Transformative Experience…SAAAAGE PONTIIIIFF!!
Sage slides into the ring, kips to his feet fluidly, and then takes a running start and leaps flat footed, landing with a slight wobble on the top turnbuckle–but sticks the landing, and holds his arms out messianic-style, bathing in reactions. Mostly negative, though there are a smattering of true believers that are making themselves known over the jeers.
The Sun shines every day
The Sun shines every day
Freedom, freedom!
Freedom, freedom…
Sage executes a backflip from the top, landing on his feet, and bows to the crowd, and the toward Elvis Nixon before removing his kimono and beads. He begins to stretch, adopting the revolved crescent lunge, his fluidity and vascularity on full display as “Satori Part II” fades to nothing.
Vince Howard: And his opponent, coming down the aisle from Houston, Texas…
Joe Esposito’s timeless classic “You’re The Best” begins to play over the arena speakers, heralding the arrival of Beautiful Bobby Dean. Unbeknownst to Richard, it also heralds the arrival of another man.
Richard Parker: All the way from Houston? That’s a hell of a walk for a man of his size.
Nick Stuart: (muffled into his headset) Alright, send him down.
Richard Parker: Send wh… Oh! Oh, no.
That man’s name is Doug, and he’s a menace with a shock collar. Apparently those are all the rage these days.
Vince Howard: And weighing in tonight at three hundred and sixty-nine pounds… BEAUTIFUL BOBBYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY… DEAN!
Bobby seems to be in no rush to get to the ring as he casually strolls down the ramp. Every now and again his nose perks up and he finds himself drawn to one of the guardrails to see what the nearby fans are snacking on.
Richard Parker: Why would you do this, Nick?!
Nick Stuart: Those are the rules. I don’t make them up.
Richard Parker: Well who did?
The next voice the fans at home hear is muted, because it’s only because of proximity that the sound is picked up at all.
Doug: Nate from logistics. He’s a real angel.
The walkway window shopping continues as Bobby browses the myriad treats being consumed near the ramp. He’s distracted by a particularly sweet-smelling bucket of caramel popcorn when his situation suddenly changes for the worse.
Sage Pontiff slides out of the ring and charges up the ramp, eager to get the violence underway. He springs off of the railing with one foot and has to adjust himself to prevent from slipping off before planting both feet into Bobby’s back and sending him to the ground.
Popcorn goes flying everywhere.
Nick Stuart: Sage with the attack before the bell, not waiting for this one to become official.
Richard Parker: That’s what happens when you… umm…
Doug: What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?
Nick Stuart: Bobby back to his feet, and Sage just laying in those shots.
Beautiful Bobby catches a staggering forearm to the jaw that staggers him enough for Sage to grab him by the head and ram him hard into the barricade. This brings out Elvis Nixon from the ring, but before he can urge both men to get inside and make it official, Sage once again drives Bobby into the railing.
Nick Stuart: At last the referee is out here trying to get this under control.
He’s able to get between the two men for a moment, and actually manages to start to maneuver Pontiff towards the ring. Bobby glances at the ground, and seeing the floor now a mess of wasted treats, well…
Nick Stuart: Bobby Dean almost bowled over Elvis Nixon trying to get to Pontiff!
Richard Parker: Dammit, I have such a good joke for this and I can’t say it!
The big man charges at Sage, scooping him around the waist and running at full speed into the ring apron. Sage collides back-first, all the air driven from his lungs. Bobby rolls Sage into the ring, and then follows suit.
Finally, the bell rings to make this one official.
DING DING
And no sooner does it sound does Pontiff roll back under the ropes. Bobby gives chase, but has his neck snapped down over the top rope for his troubles. He staggers back, and Sage re-enters the ring and immediately charges in with a running forearm strike. With Bobby wobbly, Sage grabs the top rope, springboards up on to it, and then launches himself back into the ring. He has to pivot his body in mid-air, but is able to connect with a hurricanrana that sends Dean ass over teakettle to the mat.
Nick Stuart: Sage Pontiff with an amazing display of athletic ability to correct himself in-flight for that one! And we’ve got our first cover of the match!
ONE!
TWO!
Nick Stuart: But Bobby Dean powers out!
Richard Parker: He must still be holding a grudge for the pop…
No one can see it, but Doug raises a single eyebrow as he waits for Richard to finish the sentence.
Richard Parker: Popppppping him before the bell, yeah. That’s what I was gonna say. One hundred percent.
While Bobby works to recover his senses, Sage once again dips out from the ring. This time he lifts the apron and appears to be searching for something underneath. When he reappears, there’s a wicked grin across his face and a black bag in his hand.
Nick Stuart: I don’t have a good feeling about this, Richard.
Richard Parker: I am reserving judgement until I see what’s in the bag, or until someone takes this collar off. Whichever comes first.
Elvis Nixon tries to prevent what happens next, but he’s not fast enough. Sage slides into the ring, unties the bag, and proceeds to dump its contents onto the mats.
And then, things get a little weird as everyone realizes what is actually covering the ring.
Richard Parker: What in Hoyt’s heaven?
Nick Stuart: Is that…
Yes, Nick. It’s rock candy. We don’t know how the bag got under the ring, or why someone would put rock candy in a bag like that to begin with, but that’s what it is. Based on Pontiff’s expression, it’s very much not what he was expecting.
Right now there is a very intense game of “Snack Or Weapon” playing out in Elvis Nixon’s mind.
Richard Parker: I can’t say what’s in my head right now and I really want to but I can’t because I hate electricity in my body!
Sage lands two kicks to Bobby Dean, before once again positioning himself near the ropes. He springboards up again and dives backwards, twisting in the air in an attempt to use his momentum to drive the beautiful man from Honalee into the pile of sugary caltrops that litter the ring.
Bobby has other ideas.
Nick Stuart: He caught him! Bobby Dean caught Sage Pontiff coming off the top, and… OH GOD!
Bobby puts his size and hidden agility on display as he manages to catch Pontiff out of the air, and in one motion twist his body and powerslam the smaller man onto the sugary shards.
There is an agonized cry that comes up from the ring on impact, but one that starts to sound almost like a laugh even as Bobby stays on top of Sage for the cover.
ONE!
Nick Stuart: Bobby trying to put this one away, and I’ll be damned by Sage Pontiff is smiling!
TWO!
Nick Stuart: That maniac is smiling!
But two is all that Bobby manages to get.
Both men rise, giving the audience a chance to see that there are now a few dozen pieces of crystalized candy stuck to Pontiff’s back, which has been shredded in places from the impact. But the crowd also gets to see what Nick alluded to, and that’s the smile spread across Pontiff’s lips.
The referee works quickly to get the rest of the bits out of the ring, kicking it away with his foot.
Nick Stuart: Richard, I think Sage Pontiff enjoyed what just happened.
Richard Parker: Catching diabetes?
Nick Stuart: What? No! I mean… Forget it.
Bobby presses his advantage, backing Sage into the corner and unloading with shots of his own. A series of right hands connect before Bobby grabs Pontiff by the wrist and sends him careening across the ring with an Irish whip into the opposite corner. Bobby charges after him, looking for an avalanche splash in the corner, but Pontiff is able to duck out of the way at the last second.
Nick Stuart: Sage moved. Namaste mule kick connects! Bobby is down!
Sage once more makes his way to the top rope. And with the candy now cleared from the ring, Nixon is able to refocus on the match proper.
Nick Stuart: Electric Feel!! Pontiff with the cover! This could be all!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
DING DING DING
Vince Howard: The winner of this match… SAGE PONTIFF!!
Nick Stuart: A lot of heart showed by Bobby Dean after that early onslaught, but the athleticism and insane pain tolerance of Sage Pontiff was able to carry him through to victory.
Richard Parker: And now that the match is over, we can take this damn collar off of me.
Doug: Think I’m going to wait until we go to commercial.
Richard Parker: Oh you motherfu-
And with that, we cut backstage.