Young Blood in the Water

CULTURED AND SHOCKED
There I was minding my own business. I was trying to take care of Nova because he looked like he could have used a nuzzle and all of a sudden, the next thing I recognized was being bent around upside down and parked pleasantly to my bottom on the outside of the ring.

Shocked. Perturbed even.

What a way to go out.

I looked skyward and saw an ominous being gaze down at me. He looked like a Greek god but only because the house lights shone down a specific way. He stood there with his cheeky little goatee and wise-cracking smile across his face like he just did something good. Nay. What he did was remove the Nuzzle Lord from competition. What he did was prevent my crowning moment from happening.

Vickie’s loving voice shot through my mind. I had failed The Love Convoy. Dammit. I knew it was only a matter of time before I had to face the music.

That sucked. That sucked the big one HARD.

“No nuzzling for you,” I shouted as I pointed up to him.

You shouldn’t have winked at me, you dunce. Don’t even nod my way, bro. I hate you. You literally tore down everything I was trying to create in a mere instant. And what did I get for it as my reward? As I picked myself up off the ground and headed to the back, I looked out to the massive sea of people, all of whom wanted better. I know for a fact they wanted to see the Nuzzle Lord walk out of Culture Shock victorious, even if their faces didn’t say it. I knew their hearts did. How did I know? Well heck, just a few days earlier, I was able to get some quality nuzzle time in with my loyal fan base at an intimate meet and greet.

There, my most passionate followers lined the convention hall floors to spend a fleeting moment with their hero and overpay for an autograph. I know I didn’t disappoint. I promised many upon many individuals that I was surely going to succeed in the battle royale. Then all that garbage with Brandon Youngblood took it all away which made me look bad. Despicable. I hate it when others make me look bad.

Yet there I was, both cultured and shocked out of my mind. I sat on my bottom and could feel the disappointment drum up inside me. I ask yet again, what did that end up getting me?

I got booked right back into a similar situation on a quick turnaround no less.

“A threeway?” I spouted into my phone as I wiped the water droplets from my post-match shower from my forehead.

Great. Just great. What luck. I get put right back into the predicament that saw me get eliminated at Culture Shock. Everyone knows that a threeway is equally unpredictable as it is daunting. You can lose and it might not even be your fault. Or worse, some ass clown can sneak up behind you and score the fall when you’re least expecting it. See; Brandon Youngblood and the battle royale loss I just suffered.

Clearly not over it. Don’t intend to be over it for a good while.

“No chance I can exact my revenge on that lugnut, Youngblood, huh?” I asked Vickie, who was on the other end of the line of course.

I knew the answer to that question. I didn’t need to ask it but I wanted to make a point of putting his name in my mouth. Letting that first and last name marinate around my lips as if I were giving it a loving mouth nuzzle.

“I officially hate that guy,” I projected, “I want to get my hands on him and make him pay for what he’s done to me. Officially. Did I say officially already? Guess I’m that steamed.”

Vickie made sense with her recant. Essentially she told me I wasn’t a big enough star to just walk into a matchup with the former Universal Champion and to that degree, I understood it but that wasn’t the only thing she told me. The best point she made was with respect to sticking it to my next two opponents. She told me to treat them as if they were both Youngblood. That I should make an example out of them on TV and then maybe I’d get the attention of the bigger fish I so sorely desired.

It made sense. Too much sense, mind you.

“Kenny Freeman and Terry Woods, huh?” I muttered.

I got their names in my mouth too but they both didn’t have the same sort of sizzle to my taste buds as that mouth watering ‘big name’ Brandon did.

“I’ll have to look them up and find more info on them. Thanks Vickie, I’ll be in touch love,” I finalized as I hung up.

It looked like I’d have to take the long road but going that route was nothing new to the Gladhappy name. Like many generations before me, my ancestors worked their hands to the bone to establish an honorable legacy. I wasn’t about to let a little sleeve rolling hard work deter me from getting to where I ultimately wanted to be.

“I want to make The Love Convoy proud. I NEED to make The Love Convoy proud. Imagine, taking out a former Universal Champion. Imagine, nuzzling that belt all to myself,” I let my imagination run wild as I packed my things, PRETTY PINK© towel included, before I headed home for the night.

“I would nuzzle each golden crevice so HARD,” I fixated.

I walked by the production team on my way out and I shot them a thank you nod for everything they did. I always found I ended up looking good on TV and in part, it was thanks to their profound camera work. Whoever said being on camera adds fifteen pounds was full of toxic nuzzles. I looked slim as heck on the broadcast. It was the only win I could hang my hat on for the night. Vickie’s KETO diet clearly paid off. I had to settle for something so that was it for Culture Shock.

KEEP ON ROCKIN’ IN THE FREE WORLD
Kenny, I read your bio throughout my travels back to Sacramento after the show and I must say that I’m not impressed. It felt like a waste of time. Of course you’re from LA. Who isn’t. Well, besides me. But are you a truly from there or just like all the other posers who are transplants?

I already don’t like you solely based on that but I dug deeper. You claim to be a social media influence, huh? Well I’ll give you a headline you can tweet about. It reads, ‘Two men succumb to excessive nuzzling during wrestling match.’

Point blank, that’s my strategy on how I’ll take you and Terry Woods out. A fine “death by nuzzling” sounds like fun to me. But don’t worry, I’ll touch on Terry later. Right now the spotlight is solely on you.

You had a nice little showing in the battle royale but don’t let yourself go thinking this whole wrestling venture is that easy. I can only speak for myself when I warn you to watch your back. Not because I’ll lock in a sleeper hold and take you out that way but because coming up from behind, unannounced is my absolute trademark way to nuzzle. It’s the best. The good old fashioned blindside butting. It’s a Gladhappy staple at the annual family panic.

Anyways, you have me all hot and heavy going off track and getting ahead of myself. We’ll let the nuzzling take care of itself in the ring. I was going over what I learned about you during my trip home before my mind wandered.

I saw you were a leap year baby. Wait. You shouldn’t be allowed to wrestle because by my calculations, you aren’t old enough to be legally employed. I feel it’s borderline unfair for me, a fully grown man to go against an eight year old. That said, you look abnormally large for that of a child. Clearly, nuzzling you would be the wrong move.

I know exactly what I’ll do to you instead.

I’ll buy you one of those multicolored lollipops and seat you in the corner on the ring while Woods and I resolve the conflict. The new headline on your Twitter, should you be old enough to use it with your parents permission, will read ‘Nuzzle Lord entertains child with lollipop while wrestling a match.’ There, that’s much better. I mean, at least everyone else on the roster is a legitimately aged adult. That even includes that bum crumb, Brandon Youngblood.

I digress. Maybe I’ve been too hard on you. Maybe I was taking swings at the low hanging fruit that anyone could reach when they try to pick apart you as a human being. You can’t help when you are born, right?

Let’s try to make this a little more positive, shall we? It looks like you actually have a lot going for you as a Pisces. On the flip side of aging like Benjamin Button, those particularly born on February 29 are considered to be certifiable angels. Wow. I’m blown away. So not only will this match feature a Lord but it will have an Angel in it too. Don’t let that go to your head though because I still intend to kick it in.

You’re supposed to be compassionate and giving. We’ll see about that. How much are you going to be willing to give me in that ring? Will you straight up fold and lay down for me? I’d like that. I wouldn’t be against it at all. In fact, I encourage it.

I think our relationship truly boils down to one thing and one thing only. Are you self aware? Do you feature that signature Pieces selflessness? I’m guessing that would be difficult for an eight year old to grapple with but if by some way you are, then we both know you’ll do the right thing and stay out of my way. Gifting me a victory and allowing me to continue my pursuit of my greatest threat yet in Brandon Youngblood is the part in my story you are casted to play. Don’t get it twisted. You are nothing more than a bystander, an obstacle on my way to Universal superstardom. I’m sorry that it has to come down to this but I have to do what I have to do.

Vickie has taught me to be a bit more bullish for myself so here I am, not only standing tall, pounding my chest but stating my claim to my rightful ascension in professional wrestling. It’s the only thing I know how to do. We all saw how selling towels on public access television went for me so it’s time I don’t quit my day job.

Anyways, I think I pounded on your name enough, Kenny Freeman. It’s your turn to wait another 35 years and by that time you’ll be something like 16 and even then, I won’t be showering you with any kind of nuzzle even if you’re begging for it, you underaged anomaly. Next please.

A JAUNT THROUGH THE WOODS
For you, Terry Woods, I prepared quite differently. Once home, I went for a nature walk. Solitude was what I needed to focus on you. With my preparation for Kenny Freeman complete, I could apply all my energy on you and metaphorically speaking, it was worth it.

You see, I came upon a pond during my trek. At first, I hunched over it and watched its stillness. It was grand. It nuzzled my soul. The surface of the water was like smooth glass. Everything was still. Everything was quiet. I was in your woods, Terry and I felt at home. So imagine how you’ll feel when you enter through the ring ropes and into my world. You’ll be in for a world of hostile nuzzling.

You won’t enjoy it unless you’re sick in the head.

As I was saying, I was enjoying my nature walk. The surface of the water was only intermittently disrupted when a minnow came up for air or an American Robin dipped its orange and black head in for a quick drink. I watched it all but I did not expect to see what I saw next.

Maybe my eyes were playing tricks on me but I began to see what looked like a dark substance curdle deep within the pond. Maybe my ears were playing tricks on me but I began to hear what sounded like the beat of a slow drum off in the distance.

I watched as a pack of minnows began dispersing to the outer edges of the pond as the disturbance in the center gained vigor. Suddenly, this nice, quiet little pond on the outskirts of Sacramento had become quite volatile. I couldn’t look away. I wouldn’t allow myself to. It was like I was entranced.

I became vexed when bubbles began to simmer along the very edges the minnows foolishly swam to. Then, suddenly, KERSPLASH! Out of the water and into the air leaped piranhas. Yes, that’s right. Multiple piranhas. Now I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking, TCG, is this another one of your hallucinogenic fever dreams and to be quite honest, in all likelihood, it most definitely probably was but I promise it all comes together eventually.

So anyways, piranhas. A ton of them. A gaggle or whatever a group of them is called. They swam through the acid looking water with a vengeance, lynching everything in sight. Minnows? Gone. Algae? Obliterated. Robins? Mutilated. All without cause. Senseless death was swift and cunning and before I knew it, I blinked and it was all gone.

The blood in the water dissipated and so too did the piranhas. I was so taken aback that I found myself sitting on my bottom once more, in the exact same position I was after Brandon Youngblood eliminated me. Was all that a sign? By now, everyone should know how much I cherish symbolism. It made all the sense in the world.

I was the only one in the woods at the time, after all so it’s not like anyone else could corroborate my story so you have no choice but to accept it as true. Why would I lie though? Why would I lie?

“Hmph,” I grunted as I pieced it all together.

Kenny Freeman.
Terry Woods.
Brandon Youngblood.

It doesn’t matter what your name is. The target remains the same. I have to be the proverbial piranha, smelling blood in the water to get to where I want to be. I can have all my towels and my nuzzles to my hearts content but at the end of the day, what I know will see me through to success will be a ferocious, unbridled, unrivaled thirst to be the best.

“It’s time young blood rises,” I prophesied to myself.

The water had returned to stillness once more, as if the attack never happened. Minnows happily danced in the water where a gulch of blood plumed before. I wondered how could nature work like this? Was this truly the circle of life? To get somewhere or to get something, a disturbance must first take place. However, the calmness after the storm can repair things too. Fitting. That gave me agency. A license to go out there, more determined than ever before to literally attempt to destroy the lives of two other men so I could further mine.

“Kenny,” I grumbled.

The tiniest minnow swam by. It looked like it winked at me. Not at threat whatsoever.

“Terry,” I muttered.

It sounded like a tree fell off in the distance. Old and weathered, a pushover if you will.

“Brandon,” I spoke.

I noticed a small nick on my thumb. It was bleeding but certainly not enough to have pooled in the pond? Nevertheless, I was only worried for a second. A little dent in the armor never scared me. I embraced the challenge. I acknowledged the long road ahead.

BEEP, BEEP!

It was my cell phone that snapped me out of my trance. I held it close to my ear and spoke with a newfound calmness.

“Hello? Oh hey, Vickie. I’m just out on a nature walk to clear my head and prepare for the next upcoming war,” I declared.

She supported me. She had my back just how I always envisioned it. I stood by the pond, I wiped the blood from my finger, I took it all in one last time.

“Vickie, I’m going to show everyone the new Tristan-Crispin Gladhappy. I guarantee it.”