Post by anthonyksavage on Mar 26, 2022 21:06:40 GMT -5
"See, I told you that was nothing but an urban legend. You gotta stop buying into that clickbait bullshit, Ricky!"
New York, New York
Every time Tony's in NY, the time moves at warp speed. For those that have never lived or even visited the town, the place has a habit of forcing things to move quickly. The Chaos champ only had three days to pack in a grocery list of chores to complete. Photo shoots, appearances on ESPN and WFAN Sports Radio (BTW, New York media are animals. Always be on your guard when doing interviews with them.) and trying to fit in as many people on the trip as he could. Didn't help he stayed up until 3 A.M. trying to keep up with them damn kids Seb and Sloane.
The "old man" still gets down when he crashes a party off Atlantic Avenue. Brooklyn, we go hard! (As hard as sobriety permits, that is!)
He still had business to attend before shipping off to Calgary and was in Manhattan to visit somebody about a property deal. Turns out the group Tony was supposed to meet didn't bother to tell him they had to postpone next week, and it threw his schedule off. That left a gap of a few hours to fill, and being bored, Rick suggested something frankly Tony never even heard of.
"Hey, you want to play the elevator game?"
Tony had to Google that. Rick, stalwart cameraman enjoying a vacay with somebody else filming Tony’s nonsense, got a little indignant that Tony didn't pay any attention to his constant prattling about this subject he's so enamored with, but Tony has an automatic sensor in his brain that turns the volume down when Rick starts fan-boying over silly shit. After three minutes of Rick gushing over Elden Ring, Tony stopped hearing him and Young Jeezy started playing in his brain. He shook his head as he read the synopsis and instructions on how to play this dreadful game.
"Jesus, I should have known this was a Korean invention. They come up with crazy ass shit! At least I don't have to carve an umbrella out of a piece of honeycomb, I suppose. Rick, you don't honestly believe this is for real, do you?"
Turns out yes. Yes he does. This guy literally bites on every creepy pasta and myth he reads. Dork.
"No, Rick, I am not wasting my time playing elevator hobo. At best, we look like weirdos just going up and down doing nothing. At worst, our dumb asses end up transported to Hell or eaten by the shaggy little girl that crawls out of the well in The Ring. I don't need that in my life!"
"Well," Rick prepares to counter. "Your wife is hanging out with your mother in law. We could say 'sup to Cass and Miranda."
Tony growls and side-eyes Rick. "...Shit! I forgot. Or had chose to memory wipe that from the hard drive."
"....ehhhhh.....aw fuck it! I like my odds with the Hell-evator better. Miranda is one demon I can't beat with her kid around."
Tony downloaded the instructions and decided to work the north side elevators while Rick headed south.
Now, the UGWC universe is known for being a hotbed for weird, wondrous, and often nightmarish experiences of the paranormal kind. But this 3-hour jerk around in a Manhattan office building was NOT one of them. This was dumb and disappointing. First issues was, Tony spent the first hour dealing with people getting on and off frequently. Frustrated and realizing trying to pull this off in the busiest part of the building wasn't such a good idea, he went to the east wing of the building. Accounting for a few stragglers popping in now and then, plus breaking for 15 minutes to talk to his son on Facetime before bedtime back in London. He and Cass texted. Miranda tried to text, but Tony was like "Still not wanting to summon 2 demons. Nope!" Snoozing that convo. Finally, Tony had an unusually long window to pull it off EXACTLY as the instructions stated to perform this trick...multiple times...
Nothing. No alternate version reality with dead mobile phones and burning cross. No shrill pitched well monster chick trying to snatch him. The only thing weird was the look the janitor gave him every time he saw Tony going up and down the same floors over and over. It was a wash. Sad part was, Tony found himself disheartened a bit by the lack of success, despite flat out calling it earlier. Rick looked like a kid who was told on the same day his parents were divorcing and there's no Santa.
"Fuck it." Tony shrugged "There's this Mexican joint in the Bronx got banging beans and rice. You can wipe your tears away with tortillas and Patron shooters on me.
Sad to say, the elevator game was a dud. But the events that transpired in a Mexican eatery 3 blocks from Yankee Stadium after Rick washed his burrito down with a few too many Pacifico's, now THAT story is so UGWC!
***
"Ugh, the stupid dispenser's stuck. Every time..."
Thankfully behind closed bathroom stall doors, Tony and Rick were laying claim to the porcelain thrones, and Rick was dragging Tony about last week.
"Dude, what the hell was with you last week? You really think complaining about the booking was the way to go? Shit I understand...*still rattling the toilet paper dispenser*...why are they making it harder to get toilet paper than a loan?"
"You gotta lift the lip up first, then press the button in." Tony instructed him, before he grunted and a splash is heard from the bowl. "Those things get stuck."
"Okay, fine, I admit. I was ratty as fuck last week. Well, even more than usual. Last two months have been shit, and the next 2 are going to be a whirlwind. Cass isn't happy I've got to stay in the States for the next month at least just to sort this custody shit out once and for all."
"So, you're gonna get Robbie back for good. That's great news....hold on!" Rick stopped to jettison another brown torpedo still in the tube. "Wow, it's just non-stop."
"All them beans you ate, you're gonna be back on the seat again plenty of times. *chuckles* The circumstances behind it suck, but Robbie being safe and back in my life full time again's a weight off my shoulders. Last week was on me; I don't blame management for getting cross with me. Could've approached it better. Oh well. Ate my fine and finger wagging for it, let's keep it moving. I have enough things trying to distract me right now."
His eye was still stinging from that boxing match in Belfast. Besides a nice payday and exposure, boxing served as a palette cleanser when silly wrasslin' shit starts gunking up the works. All he was focused on during fight camp mode was winning. None of the noise and drama were getting in as it had in Chicago. Nothing involving the life outside the ring mattered until his hands were raised. Blame it on being a lifelong “alpha jock badass”; guys like Tony lose focus on simple things, they get bothered.
He didn’t feel bothered by anything, though. It wasn’t his style to stew. Sometimes it was hard to keep your head above water when it’s constantly pouring. With an opportunity to make history after Calgary, though, he made his intentions known on video nothing was getting in his way to grab a pen and write a paragraph in the company’s history books.
ESPN Radio NY Studios
Earlier that week
“Le Bord De Dieu: 8+ months and five defenses with the Chaos championship. That’s a damn fine feat, considering how much of a slaughterhouse this division is. BK (Natural Born Killer) racked up 6 notches on this strap before it got taken in battle. Kenzi was champ for seven months. You look through the receipts concerning this belt, there’s a pattern when it comes to ownership; it doesn't last long. Hell, some joke it’s the 30 Day or Less belt. Some of the best have held this championship…*holds it up for the audience*...for less time it takes to remodel a kitchen. It’s not easy when every defense, you get caught in a shit storm.”
“Very, very few can claim they’ve had a good run, let alone a great one with the Chaos Championship. They come at you foaming at the mouth. Something about this belt brings out the worst in people. It gets them wanting the taste of blood in their mouths. And for many that become the champion, they just can’t handle that kind of life. Everybody wants chaos until it hits them..”
“*Whap* Right in the face.” He slaps his hands together. “It’s not for everyone.”
“Sometimes, though, you get those types that manage to bring order to that kind of entropy. They can handle that weight, that constant violence and uncertainty. They create a legacy off a championship that, is too unstable to establish that kind of reign. Hell, most don’t last 60 days at the most…”
“5 months and change now since I won the belt. That’s an eternity in chaos, and I didn’t need an engine to power that ride. Just li’l ol’ sexy heart punching me beating Hall of Famers, future world contenders, and international stars like Mac. Now I’m at the point where I’m ready to be talked about along with those names I mentioned, by others. Me…”
Tony shakes his head. “Nah, not yet. I’ve been a GOOD champion. Great is still one more step away. I need that one match that seals the deal, erases all doubts that when I became Chaos champion, it’d be a period that people never forget. Travis is the perfect guy to make that happen. He isn’t just another stat; what happened last time I had to deal with his goofy ass has remained burned in my memory bank.”
Tony pouts his lips. “Stupid Travis took my Conquest belt. I just got that thing, too, I was so proud of it. Felt like a kid who lost his Nintendo Switch because his dumb ass lost it on the bus. I ain’t getting it back, the bus driver is an asshole like that. All my plans for it, all the hype just vanished. That hot start of mine I came in had a water bucket dumped on it. Worst part of it was, it left people doubting I still could be a great champion again. I heard it from pundits, journalists, bloggers. Everybody with an opinion and an online account took their turn to throw roses on my coffin. 5 months later, still alive…still golden.”
“Yet they still talk. They still mock me for losing in the first place to a guy whose news show makes Hollywood Unlocked look like Meet The Press. Lost to a guy that’s been the Kenny Smith to Seb’s Charles Barkley. Got his shiny new toy snatched away from the resident punching bag.”
“That never stopped pissing me off. Every time I thought about losing that belt, I think back to losing to Pierce, and I’m like that’s not happening. Not at least until I had that “moment” I was blathering on about. That’s why despite all the problems and side conjecture, the injuries, I pressed through and built up that defense resume. Just for that moment on Monday…”
“Where everything gets settled and nobody, including me, has any doubts where I belong.”
“Turnbuckle Tucker took my belt, I’ma take away his chance to be another 45-day body keeping the leather warm. And in return, give him an honor in its place.”
“He got to be the mark I took down that elevated it from good to great. The name that puts me up there with Chaos, NBK, Dieu. I beat him, all the doubts go away that I’m one of the best Chaos champions in company history.”
“It’s that moment that’s all that matters at this point. And it’s fitting, beating Travis to obtain it.”
“As good as was, let’s face it, as Chaos champion, that’s all he ever was…”
“Just an moment here and there.”
***
Back to the boys in the Bronx dropping off the kids to the pool. Tony is definitely glad the busboy left a can of febreeze in the shitter, because Rick and Tony are pumping out some serious greenhouse emissions. People are leaving the bathroom gagging, complaining their nostrils are being mugged and groped. And Rick is still not able to get that dispenser pen.
“Oh, c’mon, it’s starting to dry and get itchy!” Rick’s tormented wailing blends perfectly with his failure to remove tissue paper from a plastic encasement.
“Rick, I told you…lift the lip of the lid UP, then, press the release button.”
“That’s what I’ve been…*click*...oh! Never mind.” Rick tears off about a yard of shit tickets and gets to cleaning the gutter. “Still kind of bummed that the elevator game wasn’t real. That could’ve been a cool adventure.”
Tony shook his head and flushed. “Only you, Rick, would consider riding putzing around in an office building for 3 hours just to find that special magical murder lift to be fun. Did you really think that shit was legit?”
“Look, unlike you Tony, I look for the magic in this world. I mean, we work for UGWC. WHo knows what weirdness can happen?”
“What weirdness can happen, Rick, is that I damn near puked on my Jordans traveling through that paravel bullshit with Rogan. I got transported to a time where they burnt you for knowing how to read, and my iPhone has Kindle on it. I have a jet and half the time I don’t like riding in it. I don’t need weird; weird gets in the way of my schedule. And as bizarre as our employers are…”
“Seriously, there is NO chance in Hell that riding up and down elevators all day pressing buttons summons soul stealing demon women to fuck with you.”
The restaurant owner, Felipe, knocks on Tony’s stall door. “Mano, your mother-in-law Miranda’s at the bar waiting for you.”
“WHAT THE FUUUU…” Tony nearly drops his phone in the toilet water in terror. “How! I didn’t text anybody where we were going. Did you, Rick?”
“Nope. Swear to God that woman injected a chip in you or something. She just popped out of nowhere at the Knicks game to give you shit about not letting Cassandra tear down that old gazebo of yours in the backyard.”
“Fuck.” Tony groans “Spent $6 mil on that joint, I’m gonna be left with my office and half a garage to do anything in. Ay, Felipe, did Miranda walk in through the door, or did she rip out of somebody’s chest or teleport through a burning portal?”
“I don’t know, but you gotta get her out of here. She’s complaining about being in here will give her hepatitis and a muffin top, and she’s doing that asshole thing some white people do to Spanish speakers by repeating shit in English but speaking really, really slowly and loud like that shit makes a difference.”
“Ugh! Alright, give me a few minutes to wash.” Tony bangs his head against the stall door.
“Too bad I can’t just flush myself down the toilet, escape through the sewer pipes.”
“What was that about the elevator game being bullshit?” Rick openly laughed at Tony’s suffering.
“Swear to God I pressed the right buttons, Rick. I swear to God!”
New York, New York
Every time Tony's in NY, the time moves at warp speed. For those that have never lived or even visited the town, the place has a habit of forcing things to move quickly. The Chaos champ only had three days to pack in a grocery list of chores to complete. Photo shoots, appearances on ESPN and WFAN Sports Radio (BTW, New York media are animals. Always be on your guard when doing interviews with them.) and trying to fit in as many people on the trip as he could. Didn't help he stayed up until 3 A.M. trying to keep up with them damn kids Seb and Sloane.
The "old man" still gets down when he crashes a party off Atlantic Avenue. Brooklyn, we go hard! (As hard as sobriety permits, that is!)
He still had business to attend before shipping off to Calgary and was in Manhattan to visit somebody about a property deal. Turns out the group Tony was supposed to meet didn't bother to tell him they had to postpone next week, and it threw his schedule off. That left a gap of a few hours to fill, and being bored, Rick suggested something frankly Tony never even heard of.
"Hey, you want to play the elevator game?"
Tony had to Google that. Rick, stalwart cameraman enjoying a vacay with somebody else filming Tony’s nonsense, got a little indignant that Tony didn't pay any attention to his constant prattling about this subject he's so enamored with, but Tony has an automatic sensor in his brain that turns the volume down when Rick starts fan-boying over silly shit. After three minutes of Rick gushing over Elden Ring, Tony stopped hearing him and Young Jeezy started playing in his brain. He shook his head as he read the synopsis and instructions on how to play this dreadful game.
"Jesus, I should have known this was a Korean invention. They come up with crazy ass shit! At least I don't have to carve an umbrella out of a piece of honeycomb, I suppose. Rick, you don't honestly believe this is for real, do you?"
Turns out yes. Yes he does. This guy literally bites on every creepy pasta and myth he reads. Dork.
"No, Rick, I am not wasting my time playing elevator hobo. At best, we look like weirdos just going up and down doing nothing. At worst, our dumb asses end up transported to Hell or eaten by the shaggy little girl that crawls out of the well in The Ring. I don't need that in my life!"
"Well," Rick prepares to counter. "Your wife is hanging out with your mother in law. We could say 'sup to Cass and Miranda."
Tony growls and side-eyes Rick. "...Shit! I forgot. Or had chose to memory wipe that from the hard drive."
"....ehhhhh.....aw fuck it! I like my odds with the Hell-evator better. Miranda is one demon I can't beat with her kid around."
Tony downloaded the instructions and decided to work the north side elevators while Rick headed south.
Now, the UGWC universe is known for being a hotbed for weird, wondrous, and often nightmarish experiences of the paranormal kind. But this 3-hour jerk around in a Manhattan office building was NOT one of them. This was dumb and disappointing. First issues was, Tony spent the first hour dealing with people getting on and off frequently. Frustrated and realizing trying to pull this off in the busiest part of the building wasn't such a good idea, he went to the east wing of the building. Accounting for a few stragglers popping in now and then, plus breaking for 15 minutes to talk to his son on Facetime before bedtime back in London. He and Cass texted. Miranda tried to text, but Tony was like "Still not wanting to summon 2 demons. Nope!" Snoozing that convo. Finally, Tony had an unusually long window to pull it off EXACTLY as the instructions stated to perform this trick...multiple times...
Nothing. No alternate version reality with dead mobile phones and burning cross. No shrill pitched well monster chick trying to snatch him. The only thing weird was the look the janitor gave him every time he saw Tony going up and down the same floors over and over. It was a wash. Sad part was, Tony found himself disheartened a bit by the lack of success, despite flat out calling it earlier. Rick looked like a kid who was told on the same day his parents were divorcing and there's no Santa.
"Fuck it." Tony shrugged "There's this Mexican joint in the Bronx got banging beans and rice. You can wipe your tears away with tortillas and Patron shooters on me.
Sad to say, the elevator game was a dud. But the events that transpired in a Mexican eatery 3 blocks from Yankee Stadium after Rick washed his burrito down with a few too many Pacifico's, now THAT story is so UGWC!
***
"Ugh, the stupid dispenser's stuck. Every time..."
Thankfully behind closed bathroom stall doors, Tony and Rick were laying claim to the porcelain thrones, and Rick was dragging Tony about last week.
"Dude, what the hell was with you last week? You really think complaining about the booking was the way to go? Shit I understand...*still rattling the toilet paper dispenser*...why are they making it harder to get toilet paper than a loan?"
"You gotta lift the lip up first, then press the button in." Tony instructed him, before he grunted and a splash is heard from the bowl. "Those things get stuck."
"Okay, fine, I admit. I was ratty as fuck last week. Well, even more than usual. Last two months have been shit, and the next 2 are going to be a whirlwind. Cass isn't happy I've got to stay in the States for the next month at least just to sort this custody shit out once and for all."
"So, you're gonna get Robbie back for good. That's great news....hold on!" Rick stopped to jettison another brown torpedo still in the tube. "Wow, it's just non-stop."
"All them beans you ate, you're gonna be back on the seat again plenty of times. *chuckles* The circumstances behind it suck, but Robbie being safe and back in my life full time again's a weight off my shoulders. Last week was on me; I don't blame management for getting cross with me. Could've approached it better. Oh well. Ate my fine and finger wagging for it, let's keep it moving. I have enough things trying to distract me right now."
His eye was still stinging from that boxing match in Belfast. Besides a nice payday and exposure, boxing served as a palette cleanser when silly wrasslin' shit starts gunking up the works. All he was focused on during fight camp mode was winning. None of the noise and drama were getting in as it had in Chicago. Nothing involving the life outside the ring mattered until his hands were raised. Blame it on being a lifelong “alpha jock badass”; guys like Tony lose focus on simple things, they get bothered.
He didn’t feel bothered by anything, though. It wasn’t his style to stew. Sometimes it was hard to keep your head above water when it’s constantly pouring. With an opportunity to make history after Calgary, though, he made his intentions known on video nothing was getting in his way to grab a pen and write a paragraph in the company’s history books.
ESPN Radio NY Studios
Earlier that week
“Le Bord De Dieu: 8+ months and five defenses with the Chaos championship. That’s a damn fine feat, considering how much of a slaughterhouse this division is. BK (Natural Born Killer) racked up 6 notches on this strap before it got taken in battle. Kenzi was champ for seven months. You look through the receipts concerning this belt, there’s a pattern when it comes to ownership; it doesn't last long. Hell, some joke it’s the 30 Day or Less belt. Some of the best have held this championship…*holds it up for the audience*...for less time it takes to remodel a kitchen. It’s not easy when every defense, you get caught in a shit storm.”
“Very, very few can claim they’ve had a good run, let alone a great one with the Chaos Championship. They come at you foaming at the mouth. Something about this belt brings out the worst in people. It gets them wanting the taste of blood in their mouths. And for many that become the champion, they just can’t handle that kind of life. Everybody wants chaos until it hits them..”
“*Whap* Right in the face.” He slaps his hands together. “It’s not for everyone.”
“Sometimes, though, you get those types that manage to bring order to that kind of entropy. They can handle that weight, that constant violence and uncertainty. They create a legacy off a championship that, is too unstable to establish that kind of reign. Hell, most don’t last 60 days at the most…”
“5 months and change now since I won the belt. That’s an eternity in chaos, and I didn’t need an engine to power that ride. Just li’l ol’ sexy heart punching me beating Hall of Famers, future world contenders, and international stars like Mac. Now I’m at the point where I’m ready to be talked about along with those names I mentioned, by others. Me…”
Tony shakes his head. “Nah, not yet. I’ve been a GOOD champion. Great is still one more step away. I need that one match that seals the deal, erases all doubts that when I became Chaos champion, it’d be a period that people never forget. Travis is the perfect guy to make that happen. He isn’t just another stat; what happened last time I had to deal with his goofy ass has remained burned in my memory bank.”
Tony pouts his lips. “Stupid Travis took my Conquest belt. I just got that thing, too, I was so proud of it. Felt like a kid who lost his Nintendo Switch because his dumb ass lost it on the bus. I ain’t getting it back, the bus driver is an asshole like that. All my plans for it, all the hype just vanished. That hot start of mine I came in had a water bucket dumped on it. Worst part of it was, it left people doubting I still could be a great champion again. I heard it from pundits, journalists, bloggers. Everybody with an opinion and an online account took their turn to throw roses on my coffin. 5 months later, still alive…still golden.”
“Yet they still talk. They still mock me for losing in the first place to a guy whose news show makes Hollywood Unlocked look like Meet The Press. Lost to a guy that’s been the Kenny Smith to Seb’s Charles Barkley. Got his shiny new toy snatched away from the resident punching bag.”
“That never stopped pissing me off. Every time I thought about losing that belt, I think back to losing to Pierce, and I’m like that’s not happening. Not at least until I had that “moment” I was blathering on about. That’s why despite all the problems and side conjecture, the injuries, I pressed through and built up that defense resume. Just for that moment on Monday…”
“Where everything gets settled and nobody, including me, has any doubts where I belong.”
“Turnbuckle Tucker took my belt, I’ma take away his chance to be another 45-day body keeping the leather warm. And in return, give him an honor in its place.”
“He got to be the mark I took down that elevated it from good to great. The name that puts me up there with Chaos, NBK, Dieu. I beat him, all the doubts go away that I’m one of the best Chaos champions in company history.”
“It’s that moment that’s all that matters at this point. And it’s fitting, beating Travis to obtain it.”
“As good as was, let’s face it, as Chaos champion, that’s all he ever was…”
“Just an moment here and there.”
***
Back to the boys in the Bronx dropping off the kids to the pool. Tony is definitely glad the busboy left a can of febreeze in the shitter, because Rick and Tony are pumping out some serious greenhouse emissions. People are leaving the bathroom gagging, complaining their nostrils are being mugged and groped. And Rick is still not able to get that dispenser pen.
“Oh, c’mon, it’s starting to dry and get itchy!” Rick’s tormented wailing blends perfectly with his failure to remove tissue paper from a plastic encasement.
“Rick, I told you…lift the lip of the lid UP, then, press the release button.”
“That’s what I’ve been…*click*...oh! Never mind.” Rick tears off about a yard of shit tickets and gets to cleaning the gutter. “Still kind of bummed that the elevator game wasn’t real. That could’ve been a cool adventure.”
Tony shook his head and flushed. “Only you, Rick, would consider riding putzing around in an office building for 3 hours just to find that special magical murder lift to be fun. Did you really think that shit was legit?”
“Look, unlike you Tony, I look for the magic in this world. I mean, we work for UGWC. WHo knows what weirdness can happen?”
“What weirdness can happen, Rick, is that I damn near puked on my Jordans traveling through that paravel bullshit with Rogan. I got transported to a time where they burnt you for knowing how to read, and my iPhone has Kindle on it. I have a jet and half the time I don’t like riding in it. I don’t need weird; weird gets in the way of my schedule. And as bizarre as our employers are…”
“Seriously, there is NO chance in Hell that riding up and down elevators all day pressing buttons summons soul stealing demon women to fuck with you.”
The restaurant owner, Felipe, knocks on Tony’s stall door. “Mano, your mother-in-law Miranda’s at the bar waiting for you.”
“WHAT THE FUUUU…” Tony nearly drops his phone in the toilet water in terror. “How! I didn’t text anybody where we were going. Did you, Rick?”
“Nope. Swear to God that woman injected a chip in you or something. She just popped out of nowhere at the Knicks game to give you shit about not letting Cassandra tear down that old gazebo of yours in the backyard.”
“Fuck.” Tony groans “Spent $6 mil on that joint, I’m gonna be left with my office and half a garage to do anything in. Ay, Felipe, did Miranda walk in through the door, or did she rip out of somebody’s chest or teleport through a burning portal?”
“I don’t know, but you gotta get her out of here. She’s complaining about being in here will give her hepatitis and a muffin top, and she’s doing that asshole thing some white people do to Spanish speakers by repeating shit in English but speaking really, really slowly and loud like that shit makes a difference.”
“Ugh! Alright, give me a few minutes to wash.” Tony bangs his head against the stall door.
“Too bad I can’t just flush myself down the toilet, escape through the sewer pipes.”
“What was that about the elevator game being bullshit?” Rick openly laughed at Tony’s suffering.
“Swear to God I pressed the right buttons, Rick. I swear to God!”
