Requiem for the Wrestling Few
By Son Rhandi
Chapter 05: 'A Wrestling Rodeo'
_____________________________________________________
"Well, you've really done it now..." Harabote rubbed his temples. "What were you thinking, Terry? This is exactly the type of situation I wanted to avoid!"
"No time for talk, 'Bote," The Texan grunted as he continued to bench press. "Gotta get ready for my match with that two-ton T-bone. I'm only benchin' 250 an' I've gotta get up to 325 by the end o' tomorrow."
"Terry, this is ridiculous! If you go through with this, there's no telling what the outcome might be!"
"Simple, 'Bote." Terry paused to put another 10 pounds on the bar. "I'm gonna win. There's no way in Hell I'd let dinner get the best of me..!"
"You don't seem to realize the seriousness of your situation..." Harabote ignored the glasses sliding down his nose. "If you lose, you could face horrible injuries--brain damage, paralysis--the end of your career as a Muscle Leaguer. But if you win, it could cause serious repercussions for Muscle League, and I mean dead serious..."
The young man remained silent. "Harabote..." The Texan put the barbell up to rest and turned to face the old man. "This ain't some celebrity match we're talkin', here. This is about... my integrity as a human being. To say the things he did on my own home planet, that was a slap in the face and the straw that broke this camel's back. ......I won't back down from anyone like that."
"Well, you're certainly Muscle League, I'll give you that." The old man smiled briefly before readjusting his glasses and regaining a serious air. "I don't know what else to say. Do what you want and don't get killed."
______________________________
"That 'four stomachs' crack was below the belt! Ugh!!" Minotoro slammed his fists into the punching dummy, a photo of Terry tacked to it.
"You shouldn't get mad. You started it, remember?"
"This ain't the time for 'I told you so's, Huskitooth!" He gave the dummy a good right to the breadbasket.
"I just... don't see why you had to go and say something like that."
"Well, it's true, isn't it? Humanity is like a disease, a virus that's infected the universe. All they can do is find a host to latch onto and suck it dry."
"I believe those are parasites..."
"An even better term!" He gave the face a one-two punch.
"You've never even interacted with humans other than Kid. It's unfair of you to say things like that. I've think you've been letting too many of Tamerlion's words in your ears."
"How could someone like you understand..? Just go. I need to train."
__________________________
"Well, it's certainly a beautiful day for a match, wouldn't you agree, Doc?"
"Terrific, Mac! The room temp's at a comfortable 68º Fahrenheit and the bleachers are packed! I'm not sure this place is even allowed to have so many people! Should we call the fire marshal?"
"One thing's for sure, Doc, this match is going to be hot, so have the volunteer firefighters on standby! Today, folks, we get to see a real treat of a bout!"
"Did he say 'trout'?" Seiuchin stood, looking all around.
"'Treat', not 'trout'..."Gazelle Man sighed and shook his head.
Both sides readied for three days' time, pushing their bodies in preparation for the match. And on that third day, at the IWF center, the lines flowed for blocks despite the short-notice. A match featuring the popular Terry the Kid would bring spectators from miles around. Doc Nakano and Mac Metaphor were in attendance, too, staking their place at the commentators' table. "So, Doc, I'm sure our viewers are wondering just why a member of the Muscle League would be taking on an unknown soldier..."
"Apparently, Terry Kenyan got into a bit of a verbal scuff with one of the Animus kids and now they're gonna settle their differences in the ring. Weighing in at 648 lbs., Minotoro is one load of bull! He runs as the Number One wrestler of the school's super heavyweight class and has a bit of a mean streak towards humans."
"Well, he certainly picked the wrong planet, eh, Doc?"
"You can say that again, Mac! Oh, oh! It look's like the director is coming down the runway! The match is almost underway!"
Indeed, Harabote Muscle carried his weight well down that runway, staunch, as always. Tamerlion followed close behind, showing off his pearly whites and waving to the crowd. They made their way to the director's table, taking a seat. Harabote gave a nod to the commentators' station to signal the wrestlers' cue. "Okay, fight fans!" Mac began. "It's time to start the match! In the blue corner, the wild westerner, the Texas tornado himself, Terry the Kid!"
The crowd roared as the all-American marched down the walkway, sporting a white tasseled vest covered in rhinestones, the American flag emblazoned on the back, a Stetson to match and leather chaps to complete the ensemble. He raised his hand politely to acknowledge the spectators and began taking off the accessories and scattering them to his fans. "And in red corner, the angus from Animus, the steer most would fear, Minotoro!!"
Then came that manbull, decked out in a steel chest plate, thigh-high boots of the same material and a face plate à la the Phantom covering its left side. Terry placed his hands on his hips and scoffed. "What're you supposed t' be?"
"You didn't think I'd be wrestling in my street clothes, did you?"
"Whatever. Makes no never mind t' me."
"Ready?" Harabote rang the bell. "Begin!!"
"Ha ha ha! Terry the Kid, you're all mine!"
Minotoro began by putting his best foot forward and stomping the mat, sending shockwaves through the ring and out to the folks in the front bleachers. Terry lost his balance and fell onto his back, to which the manbull leapt to knee the Texan in his gut. Terry, spotting this, managed to roll out of harm's way as Minotoro slammed into the spot where the human previously lay. Seeing a golden opportunity to strike, the Kid pounced upon that bull's back, wrapping his legs around the beast's broad torso and getting him in a headlock.
"Ooh, the Kid has gotten Minotoro in a reverse headlock!"
The audience cheered the Westerner on, shouting things like 'Get 'im, Terry' or 'Snap his neck'. Terry pulled with all his might, trying to bring his head back enough to execute another move. Minotoro would have non of that, however, and sprung into the air, crashing onto his back and crushing the Texan under his weight. A unanimous 'Oooooh' came from the spectators upon witnessing the blow. Minotoro sat up, grinning, and looked back on the Kid, whose person was imbedded in the canvas and twitching in pain. He stood, that bull, and raised his hand to the crowd in a victorious fashion, and despite their boos and jeers, he was sure that back at Animus, his friends and colleagues were cheering.
"Go! Go! Minotoro! Bwa ha ha ha ha ha!!" Tamerlion laughed joyously, banging his gloved fist on the table as Harabote glared contemptuously. The beast-man reached behind his chair to a mini-cooler and pulled out two cold ones. He held one up to the director. "Have a beer?"
"There are NO alcoholic beverages allowed in here!!" The old man fumed.
Tamerlion shrugged. "Eh, suit yourself." The lion kicked back and took a swig.
In this frame of time, Terry managed to get to his feet. He gritted his teeth, obviously hurting but doing his best to keep a stiff upper lip. "You can go ahead and cheer for your teammate if you want," Gazelle Man addressed Huskitooth, who chose to keep the company of the Earth Team instead of that of Tamerlion. "We won't hold it against you."
"No, that's fine," the dog replied, keeping his eyes to the floor. "I'm rather opposed to this match... It's just the result of two people with short tempers. Pointless..."
"I agree wholeheartedly!" Mantaro piped up, surrounded by his oh-so familiar beef bowls. "People should try to get along whenever they can. That way, we can avoid situations like these..! I am all about your love and peace!"
"You're just saying that to justify your own cowardice..." The crimson stag sighed.
Mantaro shook a finger. "'Pacifism', my dear Gazelle Man."
"Well, in any case, you shouldn't worry," Seiuchin reassured him. "I'm sure your friend won't come out of this too badly."
Huskitooth furrowed his brow. "You should be more worried about Terry... If he gets Minotoro angry, he might be killed..."
________________________________
"Bully..." Terry hissed, wiping the blood from his lips. "Yer really startin' t' burn my britches..."
He charged Minotoro, running at full speed and sliding under him, this catching the bull off guard. Then, the Texan let his leg fly for a scissor kick, sweeping his opponent off his feet. This wasn't a problem for old Minotoro, though. He planted his hands into the canvas, keeping his legs straight out, then swung them around, catching Terry in the back and sending his skidding on his face across the mat. "Hah!" The Animus rep laughed, returning to a standing position. "Nice try, Kid, but I can counter your scissor kick with my handstand cyclone kick! Not too shabby, huh..?" Minotoro added insult to injury, turning his back to the human and called out to the lion. "Hey, Tamerlion! Did you catch that last one?"
"Terrific! Terrific! You don't drink, right? Want a soda?"
"Sure. Make it one o' those little four-ouncers, though. I'm kinda busy…"
"'Kinda busy'?!!" Enraged, Terry charged the bull with a fist drawn back just as Tamerlion threw the beverage his way. Minotoro reached out to catch the drink, but it sailed right past his hand and smack into the Texan's forehead. He cried out, though due more to surprise than to pain, having yet to realize the humor in being pegged with a mini-soda can during a serious match. The can rolled a little ways until it bumped into Minotoro's foot. He bent down to pick it up, gave his thanks to Tamerlion and popped the top, all the while paying no attention to his opponent.
Well, Terry's ego wouldn't allow for an insult like that. If it was one thing the Texan couldn't stand, it was being ignored. In an echo of before, he began another assault with that same drawn-back fist. He swung, but connected only with air, as the bull had sidestepped his attack. Again, he tried, with the opposite fist, but to no avail. Minotoro just remained there, drinking his carbonated beverage and looking relatively content to do so. The Texan hissed and tried a final time, jumping up and locking his hands together, preparing to bring them crashing atop the bull's skull.
Minotoro finally stopped drinking long enough to counter, ducking as Terry swung his hands downward to connect once again with nothing. The stage set, the beast grabbed a fistful of Terry's hair from behind and slammed his face into a corner post. "Heh. I call that one the Turnbuckle Delight."
________________________________
"You said we should be more worried about Terry, why? What are you hiding? Speak up!" Gazelle Man grabbed a fistful of Huskitooth's shirt and pulled him forward. "I'm not going to go easy on you just because you're young."
The dog's eyes twitched. "You want to fight..?"
Something in his voice changed, startling the gazelle enough to loosen his grip. With that, Huskitooth's hand shot up to knock Gazelle Man's away, the other rocketing to clutch his neck. The dog threw him to the floor and stomped his foot on his chest, confining the red stag's wrists in the crook of his arm, and all before he even knew what hit him. Gazelle Man just looked up at him in total shock.
"……Don't push me…" growled Huskitooth, returning to his seat.
"KRRRRREEAAAAAAAAAUGH!!!!!"
They had missed something during their scuff, apparently, for when their attentions were brought back to the ring, Minotoro was screaming and covering his snout, blood running down his hands and pouring onto the canvas. After executing his Turnbuckle Delight, the bull held his head up high and gestured to the crowd for some applause. Terry recovered quicker than one would expect from the blow, and while the beast was distracted, shot up and belted him in the nose. Cheap shots weren't his style, but it was coming to the point where he'd just take what he could get.
"I'll... I'll KILL You!!! I can't believe this!! It was still healing!! Monster! You reopened it!! Grrrraaaaagh!!!"
"Don't do it, Minotoro..." Huskitooth muttered, gaining the glances of the three Muscle Leaguers.
Minotoro took his hands away from his bloodied snout and looked Terry dead in the eye. "Is this what you wanted, cowboy, my blood?! Would you get a red cape and sword, as well?!" His muscles began to spasm all over.
"Calm down, Minotoro!!" Tamerlion stood over the table, roaring at the enraged manbull.
"Do you want to see what's in my heart?" He asked of the Texan, he getting on bended knee.
"MINOTORO!!!"
Terry watched the event unfold, his eyes growing wider as each second passed, as did the body of Minotoro. His hands, fisted to the mat, began to form hooves. The costume wasn't without its usefulness. The metal morphed with his body, turning his limbs to match and making him a sort-of cyborg beast. The audience just watched agape at the sight setting itself before them. The Muscle Leaguers stood up, that is, Gazelle and Seiuchin did. Mantaro just sat there flailing his arms about and going through his plethora of usual noises when in a frightening situation.
"Is this... the 'talent' of Animus..?" Gazelle Man pondered aloud.
"Hang on a minute!" Mantaro cried, looking as if he would wet himself any minute. "What about all that 'love and peace' stuff?"
"They give out love and peace, all right..." said Seiuchin, his eyes fixated on the bull. "A love of violence and the peace of the grave! Terry!" The walrus cupped his hands around his mouth. "You can't win! Throw the match!"
"Get out of there, Kid!" The gazelle joined in.
"IT'S TOO LATE FOR THAT!!!" That bull, Minotoro, shouted back as he charged the Kid, paralyzed with shock. And then...
Darkness.