AUTHOR'S NOTE: All lyrics in this chapters and all subsequent ones when used are registered trademarks of their respective copyright holders.
"...and it's a line drive by Greenwell down the left field line, that's going to score at least one run," proclaimed the announcer on the TV in Hulk's hotel room as two Red Sox base runners scurried home to add to their lead over Cleveland.
"That's more like it," Hulk grinned, leaning back on his bed in the dark, "I thought they were going let this one slip away after the last few innings, Tito."
"Not these guys, not this time, Hulk," Tito said, leaning back in the chair closest to the blind-drawn window, "Perhaps this'll be the year they actually break the curse."
"Perhaps," Hulk mused, shifting around on the bed. It was just past nine thirty by now; he probably wouldn't hit the sack for at least another hour. He frequently took turns rooming with the other members of the Rock 'n Wrestling Connection, not really having a preferred roommate on the road (other members of the group were more rigid; Bret and Davey always roomed together, for instance, and Savage had made it rather clear he preferred that he and Elizabeth have a room to themselves in each city).
"You ever think of playing baseball as a kid, Tito?" he asked his current roommate.
"A little, Hulk," Tito told him, "There was a semi-pro team that would swing by town every now and then, and I'd watch their games at the stadium. But I got my heart set on wrestling early enough; we had bullies in the neighborhood from when I was young, so wrestling grew out of me as a natural defense against them. Then I started sneaking into the wrestling halls after dark and watched them go at it; some of them were too brutal for my liking, but I picked up the basics rather quickly. I remember the time El Santo dropped by for a show; I was just eleven, but seeing him in action made me know for sure wrestling was what I wanted to do. So, when we emigrated to Texas, I was pretty much all set, and started wrestling in college."
He took a swig of soda and let out a low sigh. "Flair had been passing through the Texas territory around that time," he confessed to the world champion, "I saw him in action one night and thought he was the best I'd ever seen; I decided to make the Figure Four Leglock my finisher after watching him. When I approached him after the show, however, and asked him for pointers on how to become the best I could, he brushed me off, saying he had no time for 'foreigners.' That really hurt."
"I'm sure it did," Hulk nodded grimly, "Flair has no idea what the real spirit of America is, and clearly never did. So I guess tomorrow's match with him means a who lot more to you then?"
"Yep," Tito looked grimly determined, "Not only can I show him with a win that I'm better than he thinks I am, but that every Hispanic out there is just as good as a white wrestler if they try hard enough."
"Amen-oooooh, that was close," Hulk shouted as the latest Red Sox runner just barely beat the throw to the plate for another run. Abruptly, the phone rang. "Yeah, Hogan here?" he asked when he picked it up.
"Sorry to disturb you, Mr. Hogan; there's a guy down here wearing face paint who wants a word with you; he's rather adamant about it," the desk clerk told him. Hulk groaned in frustration. "Nothing you'll say'll get rid of him?" he posed.
"Sorry; he insists. He's heading for the elevators now; apparently it's an open secret where you're staying in the hotel, somehow."
"All right, all right, I'll take care of it; have someone ready up here to escort him out once we're done," Hulk sighed, hanging up. "HIM again?" Tito asked, looking ready to groan himself.
"Yeah," the champion walked to the door, "Well, the quicker we get this over with, the quicker we can get him out of here."
He resignedly trudged over to the elevator, which in no time dinged as it reached his floor. "OK, Warrior, you do realize this is way past the time most of us are in bed?" he tried to remain calm as the door slid open and he found himself once again (against his better judgment) staring straight into the painted face of the Ultimate Warrior, "What is so important this time that you have to...?
"I have received the message from the gods," the Warrior proclaimed loudly, raising his arms high over his head, "I am to rise to a higher plain, join a stronger force, become among the best there is..."
"Will you shut up out there, buddy; I'm trying to sleep here!" bellowed the man next door. Undaunted, the Warrior continued on, shouting straight in Hulk's face almost at the top of his lungs, "Since I have joined the World Wrestling Federation, I have sought the power and prestige that the world championship, or a comparable championship holds. The fight has not been easy, nor has it been fair, but here I stand, on the brink of..."
"I know, I know, you want to join the Mega Powers Rock 'n Wrestling Connection again," Hulk rolled his eyes in disgust, "You said basically the same thing last time you busted in on us in Denver."
"Is this...?" Bret came out of his room, clad in pink and black pajamas. He too sighed upon seeing the Warrior standing by Hulk. "I should have known," he said in resignation, "Listen, Warrior," he approached the newcomer, "We have told you, several times over, we are not accepting any new members into the Rock 'n Wrestling Connection at this time, so there's no need to..."
"But it is my destiny!" the Warrior bellowed at the top of his lungs, beating his chest wildly for good measure, "The gods have spoken and told me now is the time for me to take the final step to the highest level, and that includes joining forces with the other warriors who ravage the World Wrestling Federation, to become one with...!"
"Yes, perhaps, Warrior, but I think you misinterpreted the timing with it all that the gods laid out for you," the Hitman gently took him by the hand and led him towards the stairwell, "So why don't you go on back to wherever you came from before you got here just now," he waved at a bellboy up the hall and pointed sharply at the Warrior, and then the stairwell, "and reevaluate the gods' message, and get back to us some time after Summer Slam, and especially after we've all had a good night's sleep."
He pushed open the stairwell door. "You shall see that the message is in fact true!" the Warrior continued shouting at the top of his lungs, even as half the people on the floor started shouting inside their rooms for him to shut up, "Tomorrow, at Summer Slam, I shall in fact conquer the Magnificent Muraco, and when I have defeated him and pinned him for the victory, even you shall see that my destiny is among the stars that are...!"
"OK pal, let's go," the bellboy, clearly fed up with the Warrior too, seized his arm and led him down the stairs. Bret quickly pushed the door closed and pressed himself against it. "Thank God we ended that quick enough," he breathed a sigh of relief.
"Is it over?" Davey stuck his head out of the room he and Bret had been sharing.
"Yep, we got rid of him," Hulk nodded in relief himself.
"Thank the Lord," the Englishman rejoiced, "That bloke's completely bonkers. I'd even say he makes Tom look perfectly normal by comparison."
"Except Tom WAS normal for a while, Davey, so that's another strike against the Warrior," Hulk pointed out, with a low, almost regretful sigh. He himself had worked successfully several times with Davey's cousin and former tag team partner the Dynamite Kid before the man had had a psychotic breakdown of sorts following a debilitating injury, and was now back in England, a ruined mess estranged from his family. "I don't really know what the appeal with the Warrior is," the world champion mused while staring at the stairwell, as if half expecting the Warrior to come charging back in, "All he really does is bounce around the ring and scream that the gods power him up; sure, the kids seem to love him, but it doesn't change the fact he's so far out there."
"It especially doesn't condone that he doesn't bother signing the kids' autographs either," Bret grumbled, now glaring down the stairwell, "My father always told me, if you can't respect the fans, you have no business being in the business, so someone like him certainly has no place in our group."
"Amen," Davey glanced the other way up the hall, "Surprising Randy didn't come out to confront him, given how much he's said he despises that loony himself."
"Yeah, so if Randy's didn't come out to do that, it stands to reason he's off doing something else..." Hulk mused, a smile creeping across his face...
"Are you sure it's safe to be out in the park after dark, Randy?" Elizabeth looked a little hesitant as they crossed the street towards the Public Garden.
"Hey, nobody's gonna lay a hand on you in here as long as I can help it," Savage assured her, rubbing her shoulder. He approached a refreshment cart by the gate and set down the ghetto blaster he'd been carrying. "Two bags of popcorn, and a Slim Jim," he told the vendor.
"You sure about that?" the vendor frowned, nonetheless handing over the popcorn.
"OOOOOOOh yeah, I always step into a Slim Jim when I get the chance," the Macho Man proclaimed, handing one bag of popcorn to his wife. The vendor reached down and produced the Slim Jim. "Keep the change," Savage handed him the required money and took a huge bite out of the Slim Jim. "After you," you hooked an arm around Elizabeth's arm and let her lead him into the park, which was reasonably well lit. A few homeless bums lay sprawled on benches and under trees, but few paid them any notice. "Liking it here so far?" he asked her as they made their way around the far side of the pond.
"Yeah, so far; I have wanted to stop by here," she gestured at the park around them, "ever since I read Make Way for Ducklings and Trumpet of the Swan as a girl; it's pretty much as I thought it would be. Oh look," she gestured at several ducks and a pair of swans bobbing near the shore. "Hello there," she approached them, "I don't know if this is against the rules or not, but would you like a midnight snack?"
There came a low honk from one of the swans. "Well, I can guess you're not Louis, since you can say that," she laughed at him, "But enjoy this."
She tossed a fistful of popcorn into the pond, setting off a feeding frenzy among the waterfowl. "Here, a second helping courtesy of the Macho Man, yeah," Savage dumped his entire bag into the pond. "Randy..." Elizabeth raised an eyebrow at him, "I don't know if they can handle all this at once..."
"Well, if any of them start throwing up, I'll just go back to that guy and get some Pepto Bismol off him, yeah," he put an arm around her as they watched the ducks and swans eat away like crazy. "Ready for tomorrow night?" he asked her.
"I guess so, but Randy, I'm not really sure I want to do the Kiss of Death, even in an emergency," she confessed, looking uncomfortable, "That's just not me-and if my family saw that on TV..."
"I thought you said they don't even watch wrestling...?"
"I just know word would get out somehow, and besides, I'm not that kind of woman that would..."
"Yeah, I know, and that's what I like about you; you're not some two-bit sleaze that would do anything to get ahead," he rubbed her hair affectionately, "You've got principles, and that's saying something, yeah. Not to mention a heart as big as all of Kentucky, oh yeah."
"Well, yours is pretty big too," she smiled at him, "I really do appreciate everything you buy for me, Randy; no man in my life ever went that far out of the way for me."
"Well you're special, Elizabeth, and I wouldn't call myself worthy of you if I didn't," he planted a kiss on her cheek, "And as I said in the pool, if you don't want to do the Kiss of Death at all, you don't have to do the Kiss of Death, even if those cowards Volkoff and the Sheik are twisting us into human pretzels."
"Well, I hope it wouldn't come to that, Randy; hopefully you and Hulk can pin them before it comes to that; I worry about your safety in the ring..."
"And that's what I like about you too; to Sherri and every other hack manager out there, I'd just be a disposable cog in their machine; you value me and everyone you help train," he gave her another kiss, this one on the lips. "And now, since we're here, and it's a beautiful summer night-though of course, nothing would ever be as beautiful as you..." he laid the ghetto blaster on the ground and inserted a tape into it, "How about a dance to our special song?"
"A dance in public?" she looked a little uncertain, glancing at the homeless people asleep not far off.
"Why should we worry, when I love you and you love me?" he posed, hitting the play button, "You start, as always."
"Why not?" she shrugged with a smile as the music came up and locked hands with him. "When you came into my life, then I realized, you were the only one..." she began.
"When you came into my life, you made me realize, I was the lucky one," he picked up the verse, putting an arm around her.
"And I never felt like this before," they both sang, moving closer together, "Together; our love will last forever. Together; just you and me forever.."
"You know, it is kinda sweet," one of the big goons watching the Savages dance on the monitor in the back of the tomato truck parked on the edge of the Public Garden nearest to them sighed, a dreamy expression on his face.
"Snap outta it!" Louie whacked him across the back of the head, "We're whacking them and everyone else, remember!""
"Shouldn't we hit them now?" another goon nearby posed.
"No; too many witnesses, and the cops are too close," Louie pointed to the monitor at a cruiser in fact parked half a block from where they were parked, "But we've got their location IDed. We just gotta follow them and all their friends when they leave tomorrow, and then," he made a slicing gesture across his throat, "Don Raftello becomes the biggest player in the national wrestling racket."