Post by EZRA on Feb 17, 2024 7:23:46 GMT -5
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Ezra Wolf sits in his locker room after his Chaos Rules contest against Konrad Raab. There’s a small welt where the trash can collided with his forehead and some redness around his eyes from the few strike exchanges the two men had. His biggest ache at the moment was his back after countering Raab and nailing a DDT on top of the stairs.
“Maybe it was the time limit placed on the match, but it certainly felt like this Chaos Match was lacking, Raab. We’ve had a few of them, including one where you brought out a goddamn icicle mace. I had my hopes up that this one would possibly be the last time we fought although that’s highly unlikely now. This match was far from the car wreck that I had promised. Which means that you’re not going to see the error of your ways just yet. Which also means that you and I are going to do this dance again someday.”
He adjusts his posture on the bench in the locker room, his face grimacing slightly.
“In the words of Clyde Shelton, lessons not learned in blood are soon forgotten. And you haven’t learned your lesson yet, Raab. There’s another quote that says, ‘experience is a hell of a teacher’ and I’m hoping that eventually, your experiences in the Chaos Division will teach you that you’ve wasted your time and a lot of your later years abusing your body without anything to show for it.”
Ezra’s phone is sitting on the bench next to him and we can hear it vibrate. It shows the final bracket from the Global Challenge now that all the matches have concluded with the night’s main event ending in a time limit draw.
“Lucky for you, Konrad, you get to square off against some version of Ragdoll that is easily beatable yet somehow unbreakable. That’s something both of you have in common, bro. And if you win, you’ll get a title shot which means you’ll probably go for the Chaos Championship if nobody else picked it. And then what? You’ll lose like you usually do. And then what? You’ll beat yourself up physically and emotionally until you get another title shot. Something has to change, Konrad. Something has to give, my dude. Remember, I’m not trying to make you quit. I’m trying to save you.”
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“We don’t know each other at all, bro.” Ezra says, walking into frame. Behind him is the Chicago skyline dusted in snow. He’s dressed for the weather in a black parka with gloves on and the hood up. “The most recent data on you outside of your ramblings is almost 7 years old. But judging from your matches, not much has changed. Trent Steel, I honestly don’t have much on my mind regarding you, my dude. Similarly to some of the back-and-forth that myself and Matt Knox had a few weeks ago, you’re just something in my way.”
Ezra reaches into his pocket and removes something then opens his hand to reveal a piece of lint and a bottle cap.
“When I addressed the Birdman, I recited a line from one of my favorite movies. The Eqaulizer. If you’re not familiar with it, let me give you a brief rundown. The character of Robert McCall, played by Denzel Washington, is a retired DIA agent. He’s just chillin’ in Boston. He works at a Home Depot-type store and reads and drinks tea on his downtime. Then these Russian fucks come along and hurt his friend. He offers them a deal. They decline and threaten him, so he kills them. One of their bigwig buddies shows up and threatens Denzel. He sits down with the guy to explain to him that he’s indifferent towards this dude. He’s just in his way.”
He reaches over and tosses the two items from his gloved hand into a nearby trashcan.
“Like lint. Or a bottle cap.”
Ezra pauses to put both hands into the front pockets of his jacket.
“I’m not going to talk shit about your estranged family. Or run you down for having shitty friends. I’m not going to waste my breath explaining how tired the ‘evil rich dude’ shtick is. Lastly, I’m not going to point out that you’ve been wrestling longer than I’ve been alive and STILL talk like you have something left to accomplish.”
He quickly steps out of the frame then steps back in, now holding a 20oz hot chocolate clutched in his hands.
“One thing Ezekiel did right was not spend two decades chasing glory in this business. He struck while the iron was hot and then walked off into the sunset. I could be wrong about you though, Mr. Steel. Maybe you’re not some rich old veteran with shitty friends. There really isn’t much to go off and this is our first encounter, so I’m just going to go with my gut.”
Ezra takes a small sip from the steaming cup before continuing on.
“While some people out there, like the Birdman, will poke at me and say shit like ‘indifference isn’t a personality trait’, I’d like to counter that with something. Just because somebody doesn’t hate you or love you, doesn’t mean they’re indifferent. You’re simply an object blocking my path. BUT, I’m not going to come out and guarantee a victory over you. And that’s for the same reason that I’m indifferent. I don’t know you, bro. You’ve been around the block a few times. You’re the wily veteran. Which means I’m not calling my shot ahead of time. I’m going to come into this match like I have every other match in the past few months. With confidence, bro.”
He takes a larger sip of his hot chocolate then sets it off to the side. Ezra then pulls his hood down and looks directly into the camera with a more serious expression.
“So far, Mr. Steel, the only problem I have with you is some of the shit you said when you first returned here. You said that you’re return would serve as the death sentence of UGWC. You talk like you’re going to be the one dude who takes down UGWC. Bro… you don’t get it. If anyone could take down this place, it would’ve already happened. What makes you so special? I’m far from a hero, my dude. And I’m not a legend here yet, but I’ll gladly stand in your way. So far, all you’ve done is talk shit with mixed results.”
“In the short amount of time that I’ve been here, I’ve carved my name in the record books. And I’m far from done, bro. UGWC is my home. And I’ll be damned if I let you burn my home down, Mr. Steel. Let me reiterate something though. This match isn’t personal AT ALL. You’re just a dude across from the ring from me on February 19th. If I win, cool. I got 3rd pick for a title opportunity. If I lose, it’s whatever. I continue busting my ass and working my way up the rankings. I’m not going to circle back and try and get the win back from you, bro. I’ll simply move on.”
Ezra takes a half-step off screen before adjusting and standing back in the spot he almost stepped off from.
“UNLESS. Unless you decide that you want to do something bigger than just talk shit about my home. If you want to step your game up and actually become a threat, than we might just have a problem, bro. Respect my home and we’ll be fine.”
He reaches over and retrieves his hot chocolate before walking out of the frame.
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One of the best tools given to Ezra Wolf by his doctor has been meditation. It’s almost weird that he hadn’t tried it out before. It was kind of one of those moments where the answer was right in front of you, but you couldn’t see it for yourself. I’m not even sure if that sentence made sense. While meditation is something that has helped Ezra, we haven’t really seen it because that would be boring, right? Just the camera focused directly on him while he sat in silence.
Well, it’s probably more exciting than a Konrad Raab promo…
Anyways, we join up with the Red Eyed Warrior just as he finishes his most recent meditation session. He makes his way from his room out into the kitchen currently shared by him and the doctor. Ezra pulls a large pitcher of water from the fridge and sets it on the counter. He grabs a cup from the cupboard then briefly hesitates. He puts the cup back and decides to just drink straight from the pitcher. Almost feeling like somebody is silently judging him, he stops for a moment.
“Drinking water after meditation can help to re-ground you and reawaken your physical senses, bro.”
He then continues drinking from the pitcher until some water begins to drizzle down his chin and onto the floor. He then returns the pitcher back to the fridge and uses his sock to mop up the drips of water. Ezra takes a seat at the kitchen table and scrolls through his phone briefly before setting it to the side.
“Something has been on mind a little bit recently. But not in a bad way. In his promo last week, Zaniac spent a great deal addressing some of the bullshit that Cashy spouted about yours truly leading up to the opening match for the Global Challenge. It was the typical Shit Talking 101 that guys like Mr. Steel, Joseph, and Cashy are known for, so I didn’t really take it to heart. What I do take to heart is the current reigning Cross-Hemisphere champion giving me props.”
“Zane doesn’t need to do that, bro. It’s about respect, ladies and gents. Some people will frown upon respect or even belittle it like it makes you less of a person for having respect for an adversary. There’s a handful of people in this company that I respect and would share a beer or a joint with. Contrary to popular belief, there’s nothing wrong with that, my dudes. Anyone who constantly thinks that every other person on the roster is beneath them is either delusional or actively trying to drive themselves crazy, bro. You know who you are.”
Ezra says that last line with a smile while getting to his feet. He grabs his phone and heads down the hallway that leads to the garage. Ezra enters and heads over to the corner where his little gym setup is. The scene fades as he begins his workout.
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The good doctor had given Ezra and Nora what they wanted, and the flight had been booked. His only request was that Nora arrive AFTER Infinity because Ezra needed to focus on his upcoming match. And it’d be harder to do that if he knew Nora was waiting for him backstage. It made sense to the both of them even though Nora grumbled a bit to Ezra about it. At least they had a set date for when they’d be reunited and that made her feel better.
After a good session with the doctor, Ezra had left the house to go visit a different kind of doctor that would possibly help with the longevity of his career. And we join him in the parking lot as he sits in a car he had borrowed from the doctor. It’s kind of giving off ‘angry white guy in sunglasses ranting in his car’-vibes but the setting doesn’t matter. The words do.
“I gave it some more thought, Trent. And I really think you could’ve come across things a bit differently, ya know? Instead of vowing to destroy this place, you could’ve changed your goals or focus or whatever and worked on repairing this place. We’ve had a decent amount of people show up for one show, get squished, and never appear again. What this place needs is consistency, bro. Are you going to come in guns blazing for a few matches then disappear if you lose at Infinity? Or are you going to stick around and maybe breathe some new life into this place?”
Ezra cracks the window slightly then retrieves a weed pen from his jacket pocket. He takes a pull from it and blows it in the direction of the window.
“You did pretty good in the tournament, bro. I did better than you but that’s not the point. You have a golden opportunity, pun intended, to bring change to this place. Instead, you’re adamant about tearing this place down like you actually have a chance in doing that. Re-think your strategy, my dude. Because if I’m not the one to crush your dreams, somebody else will. There is a long line of people who’ve been here a lot longer than me that hold this place in high regard, my dude. The odds aren’t in your favor, Katniss.”
He takes another pull from the pen, exhales towards the window, then puts it back in his pocket. Once the vapor is all the way out the window, he rolls it back up as snow begins to fall outside.
“I’m not the kind of guy to say that I’m the best there is, was, etc. I try my best to be humble, bro. It’s served me better than going out there and claiming that I’m unbeatable because history has shown that that’s far from the truth. If I was unbeatable, it’d be myself versus Larry Tact instead of the Birdman. I’m just a regular dude that wants to wrestle. There’s no longstanding agenda here. No doom and gloom. No ulterior motives. No ‘scorched earth’ mentality.”
“I know that over the last few weeks I’ve been mentioning my former manager and mentor quite a bit. Dude has been on my mind. When he wasn’t trying to murder fools and lie his ass off, he was kind of a good dude. Some might remember a long time ago when that biker dude Chaos was the Chaos Champion. He vowed to break the record for the longest reign. At the time, that record was held by Ezekiel’s former tag partner, Marek Daisuke. Ezekiel, who was much smaller and less experienced than the monstrous Chaos, stood up and said, ‘not on my watch’. He stepped in the way of Chaos and fought his fuckin’ heart out in a Hell in a Cell match, bro.”
“Ultimately, he lost but the moment meant enough to the people that it was mentioned during his induction into the Hall of Fame a few years later. And now, I’m going to follow in his footsteps. Minus the lying and murder shenanigans. If you want to destroy this place, you’ll have to go through me. At Infinity, almost 9 years to the day that Ezekiel stepped up against Chaos, I step in your way. You might win but like you said to Gideon, you won’t actually win. If you know anything about my story, you’ll know that I can take a beating and come back for more. I’ll continue dragging myself back to my feet to defend this place.”
“To paraphrase the immortal words of Tony Stark: There’s no throne, there is no version of this where you come out on top. Maybe you show up and maybe it’s too much for me but it’s all on you. Because if I can’t protect this place, you can be damned well sure that I’ll avenge it.”
Ezra pulls his phone out and scrolls through his contacts until he reaches the end. He clicks the ‘CALL’ button and puts it on speaker. It rings a few times before it connects to the voicemail.
“Hey Zaniac. I know, I know. ‘How’d he get my number?’ Don’t worry about that. We have a similar problem and I think I know how to fix it, bro. Give me a ring back, my dude.”
He hangs up and shifts the car into drive. As he pulls out of the parking lot the camera pans up to the building he was just in with the words REGENERATIVE MEDICINE plastered above the entrance.
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Ezra Wolf sits in his locker room after his Chaos Rules contest against Konrad Raab. There’s a small welt where the trash can collided with his forehead and some redness around his eyes from the few strike exchanges the two men had. His biggest ache at the moment was his back after countering Raab and nailing a DDT on top of the stairs.
“Maybe it was the time limit placed on the match, but it certainly felt like this Chaos Match was lacking, Raab. We’ve had a few of them, including one where you brought out a goddamn icicle mace. I had my hopes up that this one would possibly be the last time we fought although that’s highly unlikely now. This match was far from the car wreck that I had promised. Which means that you’re not going to see the error of your ways just yet. Which also means that you and I are going to do this dance again someday.”
He adjusts his posture on the bench in the locker room, his face grimacing slightly.
“In the words of Clyde Shelton, lessons not learned in blood are soon forgotten. And you haven’t learned your lesson yet, Raab. There’s another quote that says, ‘experience is a hell of a teacher’ and I’m hoping that eventually, your experiences in the Chaos Division will teach you that you’ve wasted your time and a lot of your later years abusing your body without anything to show for it.”
Ezra’s phone is sitting on the bench next to him and we can hear it vibrate. It shows the final bracket from the Global Challenge now that all the matches have concluded with the night’s main event ending in a time limit draw.
“Lucky for you, Konrad, you get to square off against some version of Ragdoll that is easily beatable yet somehow unbreakable. That’s something both of you have in common, bro. And if you win, you’ll get a title shot which means you’ll probably go for the Chaos Championship if nobody else picked it. And then what? You’ll lose like you usually do. And then what? You’ll beat yourself up physically and emotionally until you get another title shot. Something has to change, Konrad. Something has to give, my dude. Remember, I’m not trying to make you quit. I’m trying to save you.”
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“The first rule of war: there are no certainties.” – Unknown
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“We don’t know each other at all, bro.” Ezra says, walking into frame. Behind him is the Chicago skyline dusted in snow. He’s dressed for the weather in a black parka with gloves on and the hood up. “The most recent data on you outside of your ramblings is almost 7 years old. But judging from your matches, not much has changed. Trent Steel, I honestly don’t have much on my mind regarding you, my dude. Similarly to some of the back-and-forth that myself and Matt Knox had a few weeks ago, you’re just something in my way.”
Ezra reaches into his pocket and removes something then opens his hand to reveal a piece of lint and a bottle cap.
“When I addressed the Birdman, I recited a line from one of my favorite movies. The Eqaulizer. If you’re not familiar with it, let me give you a brief rundown. The character of Robert McCall, played by Denzel Washington, is a retired DIA agent. He’s just chillin’ in Boston. He works at a Home Depot-type store and reads and drinks tea on his downtime. Then these Russian fucks come along and hurt his friend. He offers them a deal. They decline and threaten him, so he kills them. One of their bigwig buddies shows up and threatens Denzel. He sits down with the guy to explain to him that he’s indifferent towards this dude. He’s just in his way.”
He reaches over and tosses the two items from his gloved hand into a nearby trashcan.
“Like lint. Or a bottle cap.”
Ezra pauses to put both hands into the front pockets of his jacket.
“I’m not going to talk shit about your estranged family. Or run you down for having shitty friends. I’m not going to waste my breath explaining how tired the ‘evil rich dude’ shtick is. Lastly, I’m not going to point out that you’ve been wrestling longer than I’ve been alive and STILL talk like you have something left to accomplish.”
He quickly steps out of the frame then steps back in, now holding a 20oz hot chocolate clutched in his hands.
“One thing Ezekiel did right was not spend two decades chasing glory in this business. He struck while the iron was hot and then walked off into the sunset. I could be wrong about you though, Mr. Steel. Maybe you’re not some rich old veteran with shitty friends. There really isn’t much to go off and this is our first encounter, so I’m just going to go with my gut.”
Ezra takes a small sip from the steaming cup before continuing on.
“While some people out there, like the Birdman, will poke at me and say shit like ‘indifference isn’t a personality trait’, I’d like to counter that with something. Just because somebody doesn’t hate you or love you, doesn’t mean they’re indifferent. You’re simply an object blocking my path. BUT, I’m not going to come out and guarantee a victory over you. And that’s for the same reason that I’m indifferent. I don’t know you, bro. You’ve been around the block a few times. You’re the wily veteran. Which means I’m not calling my shot ahead of time. I’m going to come into this match like I have every other match in the past few months. With confidence, bro.”
He takes a larger sip of his hot chocolate then sets it off to the side. Ezra then pulls his hood down and looks directly into the camera with a more serious expression.
“So far, Mr. Steel, the only problem I have with you is some of the shit you said when you first returned here. You said that you’re return would serve as the death sentence of UGWC. You talk like you’re going to be the one dude who takes down UGWC. Bro… you don’t get it. If anyone could take down this place, it would’ve already happened. What makes you so special? I’m far from a hero, my dude. And I’m not a legend here yet, but I’ll gladly stand in your way. So far, all you’ve done is talk shit with mixed results.”
“In the short amount of time that I’ve been here, I’ve carved my name in the record books. And I’m far from done, bro. UGWC is my home. And I’ll be damned if I let you burn my home down, Mr. Steel. Let me reiterate something though. This match isn’t personal AT ALL. You’re just a dude across from the ring from me on February 19th. If I win, cool. I got 3rd pick for a title opportunity. If I lose, it’s whatever. I continue busting my ass and working my way up the rankings. I’m not going to circle back and try and get the win back from you, bro. I’ll simply move on.”
Ezra takes a half-step off screen before adjusting and standing back in the spot he almost stepped off from.
“UNLESS. Unless you decide that you want to do something bigger than just talk shit about my home. If you want to step your game up and actually become a threat, than we might just have a problem, bro. Respect my home and we’ll be fine.”
He reaches over and retrieves his hot chocolate before walking out of the frame.
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“Mutual respect is the foundation of genuine harmony.” – Dalai Lama
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One of the best tools given to Ezra Wolf by his doctor has been meditation. It’s almost weird that he hadn’t tried it out before. It was kind of one of those moments where the answer was right in front of you, but you couldn’t see it for yourself. I’m not even sure if that sentence made sense. While meditation is something that has helped Ezra, we haven’t really seen it because that would be boring, right? Just the camera focused directly on him while he sat in silence.
Well, it’s probably more exciting than a Konrad Raab promo…
Anyways, we join up with the Red Eyed Warrior just as he finishes his most recent meditation session. He makes his way from his room out into the kitchen currently shared by him and the doctor. Ezra pulls a large pitcher of water from the fridge and sets it on the counter. He grabs a cup from the cupboard then briefly hesitates. He puts the cup back and decides to just drink straight from the pitcher. Almost feeling like somebody is silently judging him, he stops for a moment.
“Drinking water after meditation can help to re-ground you and reawaken your physical senses, bro.”
He then continues drinking from the pitcher until some water begins to drizzle down his chin and onto the floor. He then returns the pitcher back to the fridge and uses his sock to mop up the drips of water. Ezra takes a seat at the kitchen table and scrolls through his phone briefly before setting it to the side.
“Something has been on mind a little bit recently. But not in a bad way. In his promo last week, Zaniac spent a great deal addressing some of the bullshit that Cashy spouted about yours truly leading up to the opening match for the Global Challenge. It was the typical Shit Talking 101 that guys like Mr. Steel, Joseph, and Cashy are known for, so I didn’t really take it to heart. What I do take to heart is the current reigning Cross-Hemisphere champion giving me props.”
“Zane doesn’t need to do that, bro. It’s about respect, ladies and gents. Some people will frown upon respect or even belittle it like it makes you less of a person for having respect for an adversary. There’s a handful of people in this company that I respect and would share a beer or a joint with. Contrary to popular belief, there’s nothing wrong with that, my dudes. Anyone who constantly thinks that every other person on the roster is beneath them is either delusional or actively trying to drive themselves crazy, bro. You know who you are.”
Ezra says that last line with a smile while getting to his feet. He grabs his phone and heads down the hallway that leads to the garage. Ezra enters and heads over to the corner where his little gym setup is. The scene fades as he begins his workout.
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“It is the neglect of timely repair that makes rebuilding necessary.” – Richard Whately
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The good doctor had given Ezra and Nora what they wanted, and the flight had been booked. His only request was that Nora arrive AFTER Infinity because Ezra needed to focus on his upcoming match. And it’d be harder to do that if he knew Nora was waiting for him backstage. It made sense to the both of them even though Nora grumbled a bit to Ezra about it. At least they had a set date for when they’d be reunited and that made her feel better.
After a good session with the doctor, Ezra had left the house to go visit a different kind of doctor that would possibly help with the longevity of his career. And we join him in the parking lot as he sits in a car he had borrowed from the doctor. It’s kind of giving off ‘angry white guy in sunglasses ranting in his car’-vibes but the setting doesn’t matter. The words do.
“I gave it some more thought, Trent. And I really think you could’ve come across things a bit differently, ya know? Instead of vowing to destroy this place, you could’ve changed your goals or focus or whatever and worked on repairing this place. We’ve had a decent amount of people show up for one show, get squished, and never appear again. What this place needs is consistency, bro. Are you going to come in guns blazing for a few matches then disappear if you lose at Infinity? Or are you going to stick around and maybe breathe some new life into this place?”
Ezra cracks the window slightly then retrieves a weed pen from his jacket pocket. He takes a pull from it and blows it in the direction of the window.
“You did pretty good in the tournament, bro. I did better than you but that’s not the point. You have a golden opportunity, pun intended, to bring change to this place. Instead, you’re adamant about tearing this place down like you actually have a chance in doing that. Re-think your strategy, my dude. Because if I’m not the one to crush your dreams, somebody else will. There is a long line of people who’ve been here a lot longer than me that hold this place in high regard, my dude. The odds aren’t in your favor, Katniss.”
He takes another pull from the pen, exhales towards the window, then puts it back in his pocket. Once the vapor is all the way out the window, he rolls it back up as snow begins to fall outside.
“I’m not the kind of guy to say that I’m the best there is, was, etc. I try my best to be humble, bro. It’s served me better than going out there and claiming that I’m unbeatable because history has shown that that’s far from the truth. If I was unbeatable, it’d be myself versus Larry Tact instead of the Birdman. I’m just a regular dude that wants to wrestle. There’s no longstanding agenda here. No doom and gloom. No ulterior motives. No ‘scorched earth’ mentality.”
“I know that over the last few weeks I’ve been mentioning my former manager and mentor quite a bit. Dude has been on my mind. When he wasn’t trying to murder fools and lie his ass off, he was kind of a good dude. Some might remember a long time ago when that biker dude Chaos was the Chaos Champion. He vowed to break the record for the longest reign. At the time, that record was held by Ezekiel’s former tag partner, Marek Daisuke. Ezekiel, who was much smaller and less experienced than the monstrous Chaos, stood up and said, ‘not on my watch’. He stepped in the way of Chaos and fought his fuckin’ heart out in a Hell in a Cell match, bro.”
“Ultimately, he lost but the moment meant enough to the people that it was mentioned during his induction into the Hall of Fame a few years later. And now, I’m going to follow in his footsteps. Minus the lying and murder shenanigans. If you want to destroy this place, you’ll have to go through me. At Infinity, almost 9 years to the day that Ezekiel stepped up against Chaos, I step in your way. You might win but like you said to Gideon, you won’t actually win. If you know anything about my story, you’ll know that I can take a beating and come back for more. I’ll continue dragging myself back to my feet to defend this place.”
“To paraphrase the immortal words of Tony Stark: There’s no throne, there is no version of this where you come out on top. Maybe you show up and maybe it’s too much for me but it’s all on you. Because if I can’t protect this place, you can be damned well sure that I’ll avenge it.”
Ezra pulls his phone out and scrolls through his contacts until he reaches the end. He clicks the ‘CALL’ button and puts it on speaker. It rings a few times before it connects to the voicemail.
“Hey Zaniac. I know, I know. ‘How’d he get my number?’ Don’t worry about that. We have a similar problem and I think I know how to fix it, bro. Give me a ring back, my dude.”
He hangs up and shifts the car into drive. As he pulls out of the parking lot the camera pans up to the building he was just in with the words REGENERATIVE MEDICINE plastered above the entrance.
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2013, '18, '23 
2013 