A/N: This story takes place about ten years later. Enjoy!
Huge entrances, stadium seating as far as the eye could see, and huge, sweaty men and women flinging themselves onto the ground like rag dolls. The International Wrestling Federation is where you go if you want to see high class, high octane action from nosebleed seats or, if you're lucky, front row seats so close to the squared circle that you can practically reach out and touch the wrestlers if you wanted to; however, that will get you kick out so don't even try it.
Lynn, by winning a cheddar jalapeno popper eating contest, won a family sized trip to one of IWF's primer pay-per-views, Revengeance in Las Vegas. Not wanting to keep this to herself, she decided to share her newfound prize with the other Louds, which some of them were internally dying for a vacation. Although, they had to deal with Lynn's constant farting on the flight to Vegas due to the poppers, nothing was going to deter them from having the time of their lives.
After enjoying themselves with spas (guys made a hard pass about that), magic shows (also stopping T.K. from beating up one of the magicians that nearly stole his wallet), and buffets (which Lana and Lynn cleared out), the Louds were ready to conclude this wonderful vacation with good ole fashioned violence. They watched four big guys butted heads in a ring busting Furious Four Way, witnessed a Rage in the Cage match where a guy fell from the top of the cell onto the announcer table (he's fine, he just shattered his left shin by falling feet first), and now they were finishing up a singles bout between two cruiser weights. Cruiser weights didn't need gimmick matches as their spectacular display of agility and finesse was all they need to put on a damn good show.
"Oso Loco has taken quite the beating from Chris Alejandro. Hell, Alejandro has been on fire as of late since he turned his back on his longtime friend, Nergal and the IWF universe," The first announcer, Bryce Saxx recalled. Alejandro reversed an Irish whip attempt by setting his feet down firmly and flinging Oso to the turnbuckle with his own inertia. Oso crashed into the turnbuckle in a exhausted heap.
"I'd say is for the best, Bryce. If Chris feels as if his friend and the IWF world is weighting him down, then why keep 'em around?" The second announcer, Clarence Tombs vouched in Chris's defense. With a charging scream, Alejandro sprinted to Oso and leaped up as he closed in with his right knee.
Bryce rolled his eyes, "Oh, yeah, just shove everyone who was with you every step of the wa-"
SMACK!
The knee attack sent Oso's head reeling back as the announcers and audience winced in pity for Oso. The luchadore had to grab the top rope to stop himself from flying out of the ring. Grabbing Oso's left shoulder, Alejandro tossed him to the ground to get him out of the way. Oso sprawled in front of the turnbuckle that Alejandro was currently climbing up.
"Bryce, Chris is setting up for the six-thirty splash. Things are grim for Oso," Clarence commented dramatically.
Bryce nodded, "Indeed, my friend. Taking a knee like that to the face, I doubt that Oso will be able to adequately defend himself in time." Bryce noted in pity. Perching himself on top of the turnbuckle, Alejandro leaped high into the air, tucked himself into a tight ball, and not one or two but three rapid front flips before crushing Oso with his back.
"Damn! The Sixty-Thirty senton!" Clarence yelled in awe, leaning onto the table with his jaw opened. Alejandro quickly raised Oso's left leg up.
Bryce nodded, "I may hate the guy but he makes that move a true work of art." The referee slid on his belly close to the wrestlers as he counted to three.
"One, two, three!" He shouted before signaling for the bell. The audience booed Alejandro and he boastfully showed his skills and flexed for the crowd.
"Here's your winner, Chrrrrrris Alejan-" The ring announcer was rudely cut off by Alejandro, who took the microphone from her.
"Wow, that was literally rude," Lori commented after looking up from her phone for the first time of the night.
"Man, I don't know why Curt holdin' out on me, man. I deserve the IWF World Championship more than any of you boy scout heroes, bruh!" Alejandro barked cockily, drinking in the increase of boos that he got.
Lola rolled her eyes, "Yeah, right. One win doesn't deem you worthy of any title."
"Hell, all I see in this crowd is a bunch of fatasses and stuck ups that ain't even worth my time of day, fam. I'm glad that I dropped y'all when I did," Alejandro jeered. The crowd is really letting him have it. Anymore, then they will probably start throwing things.
"My God, will someone come out and shut him up already," Lynn complained, rolling her eyes.
Chris walked around the ring, pointing to each side of the stadium seating, "Look at all you bustas, dude. Y'all can't even fight your way outta paper bag. A wet one at that!" He pointed to one guy in the west seating, "Boy, you have a face that your ma, grandma, nor anyone in the family would love! And you, in the north wing, you scrawny as Hell, boy. A puff of hot breath could knock you over."
Lana held up her shoe, "Five bucks says I can knock the guy out with one good throw."
Chris looked around some more before his and T.K.'s eyes, who was eating a big plate of nachos with a nonchalant look on his face, locked to each other. "Look at this dude, bruh. Has a bodybuilder's body but scarfs down food like his metabolism ain't shit!" T.K. still has that flat frown while he's munching on the chips. The others looked on in mild concern. "'Ey! I'm talkin' to you, dickhead. You slow or something? Gotta disability from you mama?" T.K. lowered his eyelids and raised an eyebrow. The dreadhead could care less about where his mom ended up but he loved seeing this guy get mad over his lack of reactions. "Maybe you got it from you dad; ole I can't count pass one because of my daddy is retarded face ass!"
The Louds gasped as they saw T.K. stopped chewing and his flat frown grew sharp from that roast. Chris smirked as he figured out what pissed off T.K. "Ooooh, don't like when someone badmouths dear old dad. With that outta the way, did your bumpkin dad hit you with an ugly stick 'cause those eye bags make you look like you're seventy five even though you dress like your eighteen." Chris laughed out loud as the audience booed harder and T.K. trembled in anger. After laughing his heart out, Chris stepped up to the ropes and opened them up, "I'll tell you what, fam. Climb in here and have a first class experience of losing to a future champion!"
Wiping the nacho cheese on a napkin, T.K. held the plate out to his right, where Lincoln was seating by him. "Hold this."
"T, you don't have to do this," Lincoln pleaded, taking the dirty plate from his brother.
Luna reached out and held him by his arm, "Dude, you don't have to prove anything."
"The hell I do!" T.K. replied angrily, snatching his arm away from Luna. Before anyone else could stop the dreadhead, he was already over the barricade and headed towards the ring.
"You seeing this, Clarence?!" Bryce questioned in bewilderment.
Clarence nodded in shock, "Yeah, he's goin' to fight Chris. He's either stupid or ballsy as hell!" T.K. slowly climbed into the ring. Afterwards, he took off his shirt to all of the thousands of fans. ...Nah, you see, it was a very expensive shirt that he was wearing. The two men glared each other as the audience waited for the bell.
"Didn't think you actually come in the ring," Alejandro admitted nonchalantly.
T.K. rolled his eyes, "Oh, please. I'll take any chance to shut up a little shit like you!"
"Well, he has the look of an wrestler," Bryce remarked, eyeing T.K. up and down.
Clarence scratched his head, "Yeah but can he fight?"
"We're about to watch and see!"
DING! DING!
T.K. and Alejandro locked each other's hands on to their shoulders in order to one up the either side. Quickly, T.K. proven to have the advantage of power as he shoved Alejandro down to the ground. Again, Alejandro attempted to grapple T.K. again buuuut he got another shove for his efforts. Growling, Alejandro rushed towards the ropes and bounced against to increase his speed. Taking a small jump, Alejandro aimed his feet towards T.K.'s legs. It proven successful as the basement dropkick connected with T.K. to trip him on his face.
"Ooh, and a shot to both legs takes down the challenger. Maybe this is what Chris needs to gain an edge?" Bryce asked to no one.
Quickly recovering, Alejandro stood and willed himself before forcefully whipping his left foot toward T.K's head, who trying to nurse his knees...
POW!
The resulting kick torqued T.K.'s head far back as he fell to the ground once again. The Louds gasped in horror as the dreadhead rubbed his head to soothe the pain. Smirking, Alejandro took his time as T.K. was trying to get up. He slapped the dreadhead's...head.
SLAP!
"Help! He's fallen and can't get up!" Chris laughed as he wind back his hand again...
SLAP!
"What's wrong, big guy? Thought you were gonna shut me up!" Chris mocked ruthlessly as he reared his hand again...but T.K. grabbed his wrist, causing the heel and everyone to gasp in shock.
"Yes! He's still, like, in this!" Leni cheered hopefully, hopping up and down. Anymore strikes and Leni would probably fight the man herself.
Lola gripped the the barricade tightly, "But now he needs to get up!"
Alejandro struggled to remove his hand away from T.K.'s bear trap like grip but it was no use! Clutching his arm even tighter, T.K. put his other hand underneath Alejandro's bicep before fling him over his shoulder and to the ground. Lifting him up again, T.K. tossed him down again with a flick of Alejandro's wrist. Lifting him up once more, T.K. walked towards the turnbuckle and slowly climbed up to the top. "What's he doing?" Bryce asked in confusion.
"I thinking he's about to take a page from the Mortician," Clarence guessed loudly over the rising cheers of the crowd. T.K. slowly began to walk towards the middle of the rope with Alejandro struggling to break free.
Lana squeed giddily, "How is he doin' that?!"
"I don't know!" Lynn responded, sharing the same amount of enthusiasm. It could be all the flatland tricks he does daily.
"He has the body of a tank but...the grace of a cat," Lincoln remarked in awe. T.K. reached the middle and slowly turned around. He gazed at the audience that was screaming 'DO IT, DO IT!' With a nod, he leaped up and hammered down Alejandro's right shoulder with his fist. Alejandro screamed while he rubbed his arm and ran to the other side of the ring. Finally, the pain has subsided and Alejandro charged at T.K., who sidestepped to Alejandro's left and let him hightail to the ropes. Alejandro sprung from the ropes and charged T.K. once more, who simply hopped over him. Growling loudly, Alejandro had another go towards the dreadhead. T.K. simply tossed him upward before planting his hand on his chest to drive him roughly to the ground.
THUD!
"DAMN!" Bryce remarked before busting out laughing.
Clarence rolled his eyes, "It isn't funny; however, that was some pop-up spine buster." Alejandro clutched his head in agony as he rolled back and forth. He didn't have time to clutch the pain away as T.K. grabbed him by the hair and hung his arm over his neck and vice versa. In one swift and smooth motion, T.K. lifted Alejandro into the air in a vertical suplex position. He stood still as the audience cheered and counted to ten. T.K. even held one arm out for the last five seconds. The dreadhead slung Alejandro downward into a vertical power slam, crashing him down to the ground. T.K. then lifted one leg up as the referee got down and count the pin.
"The skyscraper!" Bryce shouted, applauding rapidly.
"I haven't seen that move since when Goldstein was wrestling!" Clarence fanboyed with no regrets.
"1..2..3!"
DING! DING!
Standing back up, T.K. surveyed the battered Alejandro, who was moaning and groaning. The referee grabbed the dreadhead's wrist and raised it up in victory towards the audience. The crowd whooped and hollered as T.K. basked in the wonderful cheers. He could get use to this. Heck, skateboarding has be stale for the past few months as he is the top alive. No one dared to challenge his title, which was a shame. "Here's your winner... Psssht, kid! What's your name?" The announcer whispered in confusion. She then positioned the microphone in front of T.K.'s mouth.
"Hmmm, Jones. Ace...Jones," T.K. responded calmly before taking his wrist back from the ref. He walked towards the ropes, climbed out of ropes, down to the outside of the ring, and over the barricade to his precious nachos. "Ahhhh, now where was I?" He resumed eating his nachos while the Louds looked on to him in awe and amazement.
Two hours later...
"That was an awesome show! Who knew jalapeno poppers could do so much good?" Lynn exclaimed happily, practically hopping off of the walls. They were walking towards the stadium exit, reminiscing about what happen not too long ago.
"Well, it's literally not my thing but it was nice to see those hunks in action up close," Lori gushed dreamily. It's a miracle that's she still with Bobby after all these years.
Lincoln hung an lanky arm around T.K.'s huge shoulders, grinned from ear to ear, "Who knew that T.K. can wrestle? Seriously, man, where did you learned that stuff?"
"Eh, it was just video games...and praciticin' on a pillow when I was younger. Besides, I grew outta that stuff after I turned fifteen. I was only doin' that to shut that egotistical prick up," T.K. answered honestly. He knew that professional wrestling is fake; he used to watch for the thrills and the treacherous antics that the wrestlers get themselves into. The over saturation of parental guidance and the insane amounts of favoritism turned T.K. all the way off from wrestling. Not to mention, they took away the pyrotechnics, the bastards!
"Well, elder adoptive unit, the natural expression of your actions while exerting counteracted your current behavioral patterns. On a educated guess, I may state that you favor in partaking in these types of blood sport," Lisa hypothesized, adjusting her glasses.
"Lisa, that educated guess of you is all smoke and mirrors. I'll say it again: I grew outta of it!" T.K. retorted defensively.
Lana covered her ears, "Ugh, can anyone explain what Lisa just said?"
Lola rolled her eyes, "She basically said that T.K. likes to wres-"
"There you are! Young man with the dreadlocks! Can I have a minute of your time?" A deep, gruff voice called to the dreadhead that stopped him and everyone else in their tracks. They turned around to see a elderly man in his early seventies brisk fully power-walk up to them. He had a short, blond caesar hair that was close to being fully gray and a maroon suit jacket and matching pants. "Let me tell you something, son. That was the finest display of ruthless aggression I've seen in all my years running this business! Put 'er there!" The man jutted his hand out towards T.K., waiting patiently.
"Umm, I don't that me nor, like, my sisters could fit in your hand, sir," Leni piped up absentmindedly as the others facepalmed. Oh, lord, Leni.
"Leni! Don't you realize who that is!? That's-" Lynn hissed.
"Kenneth Vincent McNeil! I'll be damned! What brought ya to look for me?!" T.K. exclaimed in shock as he finally shook Ken's hand. The chairman of the IWF; McNeil build his business from the ground up and became a household name in the sports entertainment. Controversial and a few bad business choices aside,
"Obviously, your match with Chris Alejandro! Personally, he wanted to press charges against you for 'assault' but I just told him to shut up and warn him about doing that spiel again. Now..." Ken trailed off, not knowing T.K.'s name.
"T.K.," T.K. introduced himself.
"T.K., my eyes are slowly losing sight but I do know this: I know talent where I damn see it! You have a god given natch for this, my boy. Your friends and their parents-"
T.K. held a hand up to stop him, "Sorry to cut you off but these friends are actually my brother and sisters; furthermore, their parents are my parents too. Just want to clear that up for ya."
"Oh, no worries. I glad you stop me before I did. Now, your family here know that you got it and you surely know it too. Now, how about we start small and let me offer you a fifty thousand dollar, one month contract for you to get on your way. If you still happy about it by the end of the month, then I'll offer a more lucative contract for you when your month is up," Ken proposed, drawing gasps from the Louds.
T.K. drummed his fingers on his arms as he crossed them. That sounded pleasing to do and get feel for things but what about skateboarding; however, things have been dry lately in the skaeboarding world so it couldn't hurt to take a stab at something new. "Well...I'm in! When do I begin?"
"Tomorrow; we'll stick around here before we leave for Toronto. You could have your first match officially in the development to get your feet," Ken informed him. He gave a big smile, "You're gonna do great things, son, I guarantee it!"
"Thank you, sir," T.K. expressed gratefully.
"Not a problem, future superstar. Ladies, gentlemen, I bid you all a good night!" Ken bowed slightly before walking away. Everyone turned to T.K, who still had a non plussed look on his face. It's not every day that you basically embarrass a professional wrestler and not walk away in handcuffs.
"Huh. I'm now a wrestler," T.K. realized before give a big, smug grin, "Sweet."
"Wait, what about your skateboarding, honey?" Rita pried in mild worry.
Lincoln nodded, "Yeah, you've been skating ever since we known you."
The dreadhead waved his hand dismissively, "Meh, it's been a dry spell as of late. Besides, I'll send out a chirp stating my retirement."
"It's his life, you two. He's allowed to switch things up if it isn't his style," Sr. defended, giving T.K. a helpful smile which T.K. returned. Although, Sr. has the same thoughts but he's confident that the dreadhead can make the transition without any hassle.
"Thanks, Papa Loud."
"Ooo! This gives me, like, the chance to make you some wrestling gear, Terri," Leni chirped happily.
A large hand calmly grasped her shoulder as T.K. gave her a smile, "I appreciate that fully, Cinna Bun; however, just one thing: no tights. I don't wanna be fightin' the lack of circulation to my crotch and the other guy in the ring at the same time."
"Got it!" Leni responded, giving him a hug.
Lola cringed from the mention of...'crotch', "Eww, TMI, Terr Bear."
"I bet that drives her NUTS! Ha, get it?" Luan piped, avoiding her mother's glare while stifling her laughter.
"Mom!" Lola whined, stamping her foot angrily.
"I know, sweetie. Luan, no jokes like that unless you on stage," Rita reminded sternly, placing her hands on her hips.
Sr. shrugged his arms nonchalantly, "I thought it was funny." A glare from Rita said otherwise, which Sr. gave a jittery smile towards. "I mean, let's head back to the hotel, everyone!"
"Good save, dad," Lori remarked sarcastically before following her family towards the exit.
The next day...
T.K. walked through the door of the IWF development facility. He gazed at the punching bags, speed bags, weights, and the four wrestling rings that crowd the wide open space of the building. A lot of money went into this established 'home' of famed wrestlers like the Boulder, Triple XXX, and the Mortician. And here is T.K. standing in the middle of the place. "Damn. It is way bigger that what the camera showed." He continued walking to the locker room before hearing the sounds of an argument came from the snack room. Curious, T.K. decided to investigate.
"For the last time, Dane. I'm already taken!" A female voice snapped as sounds of a struggle rang ot through the hallway. Shaking his head, T.K. walked towards the locker room, which the two people were right in front of the door. Great, there's no way outta this. T.K. loves to make some enemies! ...No, no, he doesn't.
"Come on, Karoline. Quit refusing the Great Dane. You know that my ravishing, baritone voice leaves you quaking in your cute little shorts." The man gloated proudly as he flexed his muscles to the smaller woman, who gagged in reflex. He was wearing dark green thigh length tights with a tribal design that has the name, 'Dane Reigns,' on the back. He also wore matching dark green calf length boots with the same tribal design on the back. This was underneath a white overcoat that was sleeveless. For some reason, a white, ninja headband wrapped around his head. Maybe he like the same ninja anime that Lincoln watches with a passion.
Karoline rolled her eyes, "I'm quaking because you won't take no for a answer!" Her getup, which consists of a halter top, long tights, and boots, looked like someone threw up purple and pink all over her. and her blone hair tips were dyed purple as well.
"And the fact that you look like a total weeaboo," T.K. chimed, causing Dane and Karoline to whipped their heads to him. Dane glared immediately while Karoline gave a small smile to him.
"What the hell is a weeaboo. Whatever, man, mind your business!" Dane barked aggressively, turning back to Karoline. He does not know when to take no for answer.
"One, Moogle is your friend and two, the lady said the she's already taken, you creep!" T.K. retorted knowingly with the corner of his lips turned downward sharply. With a dog like growl, Dane stomped away from Karoline and right up to T.K.'s face.
He pointed his index finger right up to T.K.'s face, "You are this close to getting a crash course on what happens when newbies like yourself don't know their place! WOOF!" Instantly, T.K. plugged his nose from the foul scented fumes that bellowed from Dane's mouth. Seriously, flies are putting in nasal assault charges from that rank breath.
"WOOF is right! What have you been eating? Paste, onions, and sewage!?" T.K. listed in annoyance, waving his hand back and forth. That quip made Karoline giggled to herself, which Dane heard.
"This is over. Watch. Your. Back!" Dane punctuated darkly before walking away.
Rolling his eyes, T.K. walked up to Karoline, "Now that he's gone, you good?"
"Yeah, thanks to you. Now, I won't have to get my hubby to scare him off like last time. Anyways, you're the new guy from last night?"
"Yep, the one that whipped Chris," T.K. answered pridefully, rubbing his fist on his chest.
Karoline grinned and clapped rapidly, "Oh my gosh! Thank you for putting him in his place. He's been really annoying lately, which sucks because he used to be a sweet guy."
T.K shrugged his shoulders coolly, "Well, it can't be helped. That his own problem."
"Yeah, listen I gotta go but if you want to hang out with me, my husband, and our group of friends, give me a call," Karoline informed sweetly, writing her number on a piece of paper. She gave it to T.K. before walking away. Looking at the number, the dreadhead smiled before putting away the number in his pocket and going inside the locker room.
A/N: I'm home! This one shot is gonna be multiple parts, so the next one won't be out soon. Anywho, I'm writing again and that all matters. See you soon. As for request, I'm doing one since it felt most grounded to me. ;(
I'm the video game boy! I'M THE ONE WHO WINS!