Post by Aiden Reynolds on Jul 14, 2021 19:48:13 GMT -5
The Bachelor Party
Early 2019
Everything had moved so fast. From the first date, to living together, to Aiden buying an engagement ring and proposing, it had been three and a half months. But, it had been eventful. Embarrassing dinners, laughter, tattoos, late nights with friends and grand theft of an exotic foreign animal had just been some of the highlights. But now, only a week after telling his friends about it, Aiden was at his bachelor party, which had been organised by Dickie entirely.
The music was blaring, a greatest hits package of 80’s and early 90’s rock. Lots of hair metal and weird Australian bands that Dickie had done more research on than necessary.
Various wrestlers and training partners littered the club as well as strangers just there for their own reasons. Many “dancing” ladies moved across the tables and small stages. Dickie laughed and shook his head with others around him as a tray of shots got delivered in front of them. Each man reached out taking a small shot glass, putting it in the air and downing it. As everyone went about to spend money, eat food, and order more drinks, Aiden laughed and shook his head. Dickie moved around to stand next to his friend, as per usual their placement these days.
“Aye mate, thanks for tonight. I’m a bit surprised Hannah let you off ya leash,” Aiden winked. Dickie scoffed and hit Aiden in the arm, his knuckles cracking on the Australian’s muscular bicep. Dickie shook his hand and his brow furrowed as Aiden smirked and shrugged. “That’s what ya get for hittin’ concrete.”
Dickie took another shot, leaning to the side and yelling over the music. “Well, Hannah did say you can seem, “Thick as a brick”, buddy.”
It made Aiden laugh, and he also took another shot as Warrant’s Cherry Pie hit the sound system. Aiden grabbed a beer walking over to a booth to sit down, he let out a sigh as he seemed to finally relax. Dickie slid down across from him, bobbing his head to the music, staring off to the side watching one of their friends getting a lap dance. Clearly, there was something on his mind. Aiden could tell. He brought the beer to his lips, sipped it and put it down while making a face.
“Fuckin’ yank beer.”
Dickie didn’t answer. He just tapped his fingers, looking off into space. Aiden tilted his head and moved forward, tapping Dickie on the arm. “Oh? Sorry, what?”
Aiden smirked, moving back. “Something on your mind, Lil D?” Dickie sneered, he hated that name, but the way Aiden said it and smiled made it easier to take. Dickie sighed and shook his head, looking down. He didn’t want to talk about it, that was clear. “Come on mate, what is it.”
Dickie turned back to Aiden, moving a little closer. “Don’t you think—”
“I try not to.” He smiled, Dickie laughed. “Sorry...continue.”
He cleared his throat and refocused. “This happened really quick, ya know?” Aiden understood, nodding slowly and letting out a sigh. He thought this would happen. “You and Flo, I get it, you enjoyed your time and have had fun. But...it’s been three months…” He paused a moment, Aiden swallowed hard and took another sip of beer. “Are you sure this is what you want?”
Aiden seemed to stare off a moment, hearing what Dickie was saying, even reflecting on it. But as he noticed Dickie was staring at him, his head turned a moment, he laughed and raised his beer. “Dickie, mate, I’m a big boy. I know what I’m doin; besides, Flo gets me, she laughs at my dumb jokes, she doesn’t mind what I do or say. She clicks with me..ya know?” He laughed, Dickie gave a nod and smiled, it was an uneasy one, but he seemed to get it. “Come on brother…this is supposed to be fun, right?”
Aiden popped up grabbing another bottle of beer, Dickie smiled and gave him a nod, as he walked away towards a group of strip-sorry, “exotic, erotic entertainers” the smile faded, obviously worried about his friend.
Present Day.
“You fuckin’ horse humpin’ lil bitch…..no, ya know what, I don’t give a shit how old you are….dickhead.”
The sound of gunfire, explosions and sound effects came from the television as Aiden sat back, a midnight black PS5 controller in his hand. Dickie raised an eyebrow, watching the screen as his friend played Call of Duty. Aiden’s avatar slid, stopped near a corner, mantled a box and mounted his gun popping off on three guys running a lane. Aiden cackled like a lunatic.
“AHA FUCK YOU BITCHES….” Dickie shook his head flicking through a magazine. “Oh yeah? All right, cunt, I’ll talk to you later, have a good night.” Aiden sighed and backed out of the lobby, he took off his headset and got to his feet, moving across the room to his fridge. “Beer? Dr Pepper?”
Dickie gave a nod. “Dr Pepper, thanks…your clan buddies off?”
Aiden sighed, grabbing a few cans popping the tops and setting one of the sodas in front of Dickie. “Aye, had to go to sleep, big test tomorrow or something…”
“Ahh..college course?”
“Nah, high school midterms.” He took a sip and burped.
Dickie just blinked a few times staring forward before shaking his head. “I’m surprised Kallie isn’t here. I know she loves hearing you swear at random people and tell kids to go fuck themselves.” Aiden smiled and sat down, Dickie moved his legs around. “Seriously, where has she been? You two okay?”
Aiden cleared his throat and nodded slowly. “Yeah, everything is fine. I just…”
“Just what?” Dickie didn’t want to pry, or be annoying. But he worried about Aiden. And was also nosy as fuck. “Come on man…Kallie not fun enough for you?”
Aiden sighed, his thumbs rubbing up and down the can of Dr Pepper, his jaw clenching as he shook his head. “Nah, nothing like that.” His voice changed, it was deeper, quieter. Focused. Serious. Something that Dickie never expected. “I really like her mate. Like, really like her. But I’m not going to ruin this, ya know? I don’t want to move too fast and do damage to something that is special, and all she’s been through...I ain’t hurtin’ her.”
Dickie smiled, he reached over and slapped his friend on the shoulder before drinking his own Dr Pepper. “Well, I think you’re doing great. And honestly man, you two seem like a better fit than—”
Aidens head snapped sideways, Dickie paused and gave a nod, knowing he shouldn’t even bring up her name. He cleared his throat and smiled, becoming the Aiden we all know and love. “I mean come on, have you seen that bloody smile of hers?”
Dickie laughed and gave a smile. Aiden seemed happy and at ease. And that’s all Dickie wanted for a man he saw as a brother.
The Rumble Down Unda
“So...the fuck are we doing here?”
Dickie Watson’s cockney tones were heard as we see him walking next to Aiden Reynolds. Dickie, wearing a sleeveless singlet top with a logo from whatever punk bank he’d had been listening to that week sat over the top of torn skinny black jeans and converse, his wavey hair moved to the side as, conversely, Aiden was rugged up, boots, jeans and a shirt with a hoodie closed and over the top.
“I’m takin’ ya to experience an Australian delicacy…”
“...at a hardware store?”
“Yes.”
Dickie blinked and then looked towards the camera.
“And...what are they doing here?”
Aiden looked to and then looked back at Dickie pointing his finger.
“First off, don’t break the fourth wall, Dickie-pool. Second, they’re here to document ya fuckin’ social, cultural and cullinary journey.”
“Right...and...last question...why are you dressed like it’s winter? It’s a beautiful summer’s day…”
Aiden blinked. He seemed to be offended by Dickie’s words looking around as all the locals also seemed dressed the same way.
“It’s fuckin eighteen degrees, mate…”
“...so?” Dickie blinked. He knew the correct measurements having grown up with Celsius. But, he also grew up in a colder climate.
“So? That’s…”
Aiden pulled out his phone.
“...sixty-four degrees Fahrenheit.”
“How the fuck have you survived in New York for the last three years?”
Aiden pauses, putting his finger up. He throws his hands in the air and takes his hoodie off.
“Ya ruined it.”
“What?”
“I wanted to do the whole, “Aiden thinks it’s cold”, thing and a ya fuckin’ ruined it!”
Aiden storms off. Dickie looks at the camera and gives a shrug before following, they move through the parking lot as people move back and forth, carrying everything from tools to wooden planks to bathroom fixtures out of a giant dark green warehouse with a red hammer logo.
“....Aiden….what the shit are we do-...oh wait...is this like some kind of weird Australian IKEA? Like...can we get Australian meatballs here instead of swedish ones?”
“No…And don't talk about me testicles like that”
“Look, we wouldn't find them here anyway, pretty sure they're back in Kallie's purse....But...Then...what…?”
Dickie stopped in his tracks sniffing the air. About ten meters in front of them was a series of tents. People stood around them holding food in their hands, sausages were being cooked on flat top grills, onions sizzling next to them, with loaves of white bread, sauces and sodas sitting out on display.
“....Sausages?”
“Aye, mate….Bunnings Sausage Sizzle...a true blue Aussie fuckin’ classic.”
Dickie stuttered, Aiden walked up.
“Yeah, mate...six, thanks...and two cokes yeah?”
“12 Dollars...thanks, mate...have a good day!”
Aiden called Dickie over, handing his skinny friend three sausages, laid diagonally on a slide of bread, with onions. Aiden put different sauces on each and walked off. Dickie did the same, looking a little shell shocked as Aiden sat on the curb, stuffing one sausage in his mouth.
“This is Australian cuisine?”
“Mmhmm.” Aiden’s mouth was still full, and he chewed, closing his eyes as if he were in heaven.
“It’s a sausage...on bread...with sauce.”
“Yep.”
“What the fuck is this basic bitch shi-”
Aiden turned, pointing his finger at Dickie while speaking with his mouth full as bread, sausage chunks and onions spray out.
“OI...DO NOT BESMIRCH OR BADMOUTH A BUNNINGS FUCKIN SNAG! IT IS PUNISHABLE BY A BOOTING!”
Dickie blinked a few times and slowly raised the sausage to his mouth taking a bite, he blinked a few times and suddenly, something happened. Dickie’s pupils dialated, he chewed faster and took down the first sausage.
“This is…”
“I know.”
“But...but how?”
“Mate...don’t question it. A Bunnings Sausage is a special food. The pure beefy goodness with char and flavour from the thousands of snags that had been laid before on the uncleaned metal, put down on a piece of the cheapest white bread they could buy, with no name tomato sauce and a buttery overcooked white onion….it’s just…”
“Pure magic…”
Aiden turned and proudly smiled as his small friend who took down the second one with as much vigor as he did the first. Aiden too ate his before offering the cameraman one. When they were done Aiden got to his feet. Dickie looked towards the tent.
“Right, let’s get some mo—”
Aiden’s hand flew out. He grabbed Dickie by his shirt collar and shook his head. “Nah mate, not ‘til I cut me promo.”
Dickie looked disappointed, before sadly nodding and stepping back. Aiden cleared his throat and stepped forward.
“Aye, it’s good to be home, ya know? And that has a double meaning. Not only am I home, back in my country, I’m also back in the company that had become my home until I thought I needed to take some time away. The truth is, I was feeling a little bit burnt out; burnt out by the system in Project: Honor. Burnt out by watching everyone who I had beaten, who I was better than, somehow raise up the top and the level that I was struggling to reach.”
“Ya know what that’s like? Watching people who I beat, like Ozy, become the Grand Champion? Watch Lance Williams beat up a goddamn retiree to get handed a title after Raven left?”
“I have been one of the best and most consistent performers in this company, but I continuously fall at the final hurdle.”
“So, I took time away. I sat back and I rediscovered why I do this, why I fuckin’ love it. And it has nothing to do with winning championships. I do this because I love simply...being in the ring. I know that sounds sad and cliched and whatever the fuck. But the truth is that I was making myself miserable being obsessed with championships. So, while I want to be the best and be a champion...the fun of being in the ring is what I ne—”
Aiden turns, getting distracted as Dickie continues to stare at the tents. The smell of freshly grilled beef sausages wafts across the parking lot.
“You all right, mate?”
“Uh...I mean...yeah...keep going…”
“So, I return and right away get entered into the Opportunity Knocks rumble. And, ya know, originally I wanted to just kind of turn up, not tell anyone, not say anything and surprise everyone, but, I got told if I’m in the match I have to promote it. Apparently the only person who doesn’t have to do that is the Grand Champion.”
Dickie turns and blinks.
“Allegedly…”
Dickie goes back to staring at the tents.
“But, so many new faces who, in the few weeks I’ve been gone, have appeared, from a wannabe viking named Ulf, who seems to have watched way too much History channel content or immersed himself in Assassin's Creed: Valhalla. To a metal head looking chick with blue hair who I think used to fuck me trainer…”
“...Charlie?”
“Nah...Alex.”
“Ew….” Dickie made a disgusted face.
“To people with boring names like Will Riley. But, even if I was obsessed with championships I wouldn’t be worried about it. See, I have no chance of winning this match. Dickie has no chance winning this match, Even fuckin Ozy has no chance to win the fuckin match.”
“Uh...why?”
Aiden turns, grabs Dickie by the shirt in an over dramatic way and gets in his face.
“Dickie, mate, buddy, pal. We’re all just meat shields in this match, we’re all gonna get thrown out and beaten one by one by BIG MATCH JOHN. The legend, the myth, the fucking wrestling god. John Blade…..John. Mother. Fucking. Blade. It’s game over, man, game over. Don’t you see it? He’s gonna snatch up the Warrior Rising title, he’s going to win the Tag Titles by himself, win the X-Factor, then beat the shit out of Ozy and take the Grand Championship before focusing on Fallout and finally..the Legacy...this is his world, brother...and we’re all living in it…”
Dickie lifts his coke to his lips taking a sip as Aiden lets him go and straightens his shirt.
“Sorry about that, mate, I don’t know what came over me. BUT. What I do know is that to win this matchy I have to beat 19 other people including Dickie, Including Ozy, Including fuckin Ace Sky, Arata Asakura, Cadillac Jackson, Daniel Ackerman, Emmanuelle, John Blade, Lil Petey, Mark Kelly, Pat the Postman, Swindle Shelldrake, TJ Thompson, Tara Fenix, Ragnar Lothbrok-”
“Uh...that’s Ulf Hednir…”
“WHATEVER!....RANDOM VIKING NAZI THE SECOND COMING….I gotta beat Valkyrie, Will Riley and beat that fatass Victoria McKenzie…”
“Uh….dude...you can’t really fat shame people.”
“But...she is fat...just like I’m handsome, you’re skinny and Ozymandias looks like a gimp fluffer in a porn parody of the Dark Knight Rises...which ironically wouldn’t need a different name since it already sounds a little…”
“Porny?”
“Yes…”
Aiden smirks, Dickie looks at the tent, his hand moving to his stomach.
“Can you...wrap this up? I’m hungry….”
Aiden sighs.
“Look, bottom line, Ozy wins he gets to name his own stipulation. Someone else wins? They get a shot at him and the Grand Championship….I’m just looking to do what I do...and make an impact. It’s damn good to be back…”
