Post by Dylan Thomas on Sept 14, 2019 16:28:44 GMT -6
It’s eleven o’clock in the morning and Dylan Thomas is at a local gym in Hollywood California. There are people everywhere doing various exercises and lifting weights. There are even some personal trainers barking orders to the particularly chubby ones. The music coming out of the speakers in the ceiling is suitably upbeat. Dylan is on an exercise bike and smiles when he notices some GCWA reporters come through with TV cameras in hand. He slows down on the bike, watching the reporters with interest. When they finally spot him they obviously rush over with much haste.
Dylan: Ah. I thought you guys might want to come over to talk to me.
Dylan gets off the exercise bike and wipes some sweat away from his face with a nearby towel just as the reporters crowd around him. He pushes through some to retrieve a bottle of water.
Reporter: Dylan! Dylan! A few words about next Friday?
Dylan begins to frown, he’s not impressed that his first name was used.
Dylan: First of all, that’s ‘Mr. Thomas’ to you, you idiot. Second… Well what do you want to know?
Reporter: Sorry. Mr. Thomas. Well let’s start with the fact that Jonathan Barrows unveiled a new title last night at Friday Night Inferno – the GCWA North American title - and you are set to be one of the first ones to compete for it, along with Duce Jones.
Dylan: ...And I’m gonna be the first one to hold it too. Let me tell you something: I might be new to GCWA, but it’s not my first time winning a title. See, previously, I was a former World Heavyweight Champion. Not in GCWA, but elsewhere and me winning the newly established North American title? It’s going to be a cinch. Mr. Jonathan Barrows made the right decision when he announced that I was the inaugural Champion.
Reporter: Um… That’s not what -
Dylan cuts the reporter off.
Dylan: Well he may as well have. Next question.
Reporter: It was last night that you challenged Duce to a match. What made you want to face him?
Dylan: Well… I mean… anyone’s better than Xtreme.
Dylan smirks.
Dylan: No but seriously. Duce Jones has nothing on ‘Perfection Personified’, but the man has caught my eye. I watched OCW when it was open and I saw him compete there. I’ll admit the guy is good. Is he as good as me? Of course not, but I will – reluctantly – give credit where due. Duce Jones, odd name aside, can go.
Dylan stops and whispers to himself, smiling and shaking his head.
Dylan: … Duce.
Reporter: Finally, do you have anything to say to your opponent next Friday?
Dylan takes another swig of his bottle of water before screwing the top back on and looks into the camera.
Dylan: Duce… Duce Jones. Next week… you and I are in the main event of Friday Night Inferno. Let’s see if you belong there. I don’t think you do. See the main event is for winners and you? You’re not a winner. Yes you beat Xtreme, but would you have beaten the mute bastard without my assistance and softening him up? I’m going with ‘no’. When I drop you with the Perfect Finisher, you’ll see why I am destined to be GCWA’s first ever North American Champion. Duce, there’s just no way that you are going to defeat me, my friend. I am ‘Perfection, itself, Personified’. And you? Let’s face it...your name is a synonym for...well… I’m too polite to say on camera but…. We both know to what I’m referring.
Dylan swigs some more water and rests an arm on one of the reporter’s shoulders while continuing to look down the camera.
Dylan: Oh and Mr. Barrows: Congratulations. Just with my being in the GCWA, their stock is rising. And when I become North American Champion? You’re gonna see it sky rocket.
Dylan looks into the camera with a huge smile on his face. He does the ‘mic drop’ action, winks and walks out of the gym door.
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A few hours later and Dylan Thomas has changed out of his gym clothes and is back at home about to have dinner with Lissandra. Dylan comes downstairs wearing maroon silk pyjamas and a navy dressing gown with matching slippers. Lissandra is in the kitchen in trousers and a white t-shirt. She serves up some pasta just as Dylan walks up behind her, putting his hands on her hips and lovingly rests his head on her shoulder smelling her hair. He rocks her gently and lovingly from side to side and Lissandra smiles at this tenderness.
Dylan: Hey gorgeous.
Lissandra: Hey baby.
Dylan: New shampoo?
Lissandra: Apple and cinnamon. You like?
Dylan spins his wife around, the pasta ending up on the floor as he does so.
Lissandra: Woah!
Dylan smiles at her with his usual devilish grin.
Dylan: Oh yes…
Dylan begins to kiss Lissandra’s neck. She giggles but tries to wriggle away, wanting to rescue the pasta.
Lissandra: Dylan, baby… the pasta!
Dylan: We’ll order take -out…
Lissandra shakes her head, laughing and playfully bats his hands away.
Lissandra: No – Come on. I have to serve up.
Dylan: I’ll serve you something up!
Dylan smirks and picks Lissandra up scooping her legs from underneath her and carries her away from the kitchen. Lissandra squeals as he does so, and laughs. She then thinks about the gravity of the situation and realises that there is still pasta on the kitchen floor.
Lissandra: Dylan… Seriously… the pasta!
But Lissandra’s pleas fall on deaf -if horny – ears and Dylan carries his wife upstairs, kissing her as he does so. At one point he inadvertently bangs her head on the wall as they head upstairs.
Lissandra: Ow!
Dylan: Sorry baby…
Dylan chuckles, tosses Lissandra on the bed and shuts the door.
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It’s later in the evening now – around 8:30 and the Thomas’s are just sitting around the kitchen table eating some newly cooked pasta. Dylan winks at Lissandra, and as she puts a forkful of pasta into her mouth, she looks at Dylan confused and still with a mouthful of pasta says:
Lissandra: What?
Dylan looks at his wife lovingly and Lissandra herself is still confused.
Dylan: You are by far, the most beautiful woman on the planet, Lissie.
Lissandra blushes still eating away at her pasta.
Dylan: I’m serious, angel. Tell me again how I was lucky enough to marry you.
Lissandra blushes again, smiling. Trying to steer the conversation onto business, Lissandra looks at Dylan much more seriously.
Lissandra: Anyway! How did it go at the gym today? I still don’t get why you didn’t use our gym but….
Dylan: Sometimes sweetness it’s good to be down with the peasants, y’know?
Dylan smirks and Lissandra smiles. She gobbles up a bit more pasta.
Dylan: Good job I did though – GCWA reporters wanted a word with yours truly.
Lissandra: While you were doing your workout?
Dylan: Yes. They just wanted to get my thoughts on the North American title and Duce Jones.
Lissandra: I didn’t get any messages.
Dylan: Don’t worry gorgeous, I handled it beautifully.
Lissandra: I’ve no doubt you did. For the record, as for your match next week for the North American title… Mr. Barrows has gone on record to say that the North American Championship is just one below the World Title. Dylan, this is a big deal. You have to win! You can’t let some idiot with the name Duce beat you for such prestige. No… baby… you, you are the one true athlete of that company. Then once you win next week… and prove to the entire world what you’ve been saying all along, down the line...I will personally talk with the Barrows boys and see about putting you in the World title picture. After all that’s where you belong. But this new championship is nothing to sneeze at baby and I think, it suits you just fine. It’s a fine stepping stone to even greater things.
Dylan: Absolutely sweetie. I mean Jonny Barrows has to see money in me.
Lissandra nods in agreement.
Lissandra: The stock of the DT Brand has soared and you’ve only had one match so far in GCWA. You might want to consider something though, baby.
Dylan: What’s that?
Lissandra: It might be an idea to make a GCWA version of the Thomas Alliance to protect you once you’re champion. Everyone is going to be gunning for you once you’re wearing the belt around your waist.
Dylan ponders this for a few moments, knowing the value of friends at his side. Dylan and Lissandra were after all members of Rob Culliford’s RCUW – the same federation that OCW’s Dravers Boys and Robert Morbidus stemmed from. While the Dravers Boys didn’t get on with RCUW’s tyrannical leader, Dylan Thomas always found the man fair.
Dylan: Lissie… that’s not a bad shout. But who do you think has the wrestling ability to watch our backs in the GCWA? I mean, no-one in that federation is on our level.
Lissandra thinks things through and shakes her head.
Lissandra: I don’t know yet sweetie - let’s give it time. For now, let’s concentrate on you kicking Duce’s butt and maybe even giving him a punt to the head. Just to really show the man who’s boss in the GCWA. You are Dylan Thomas. You are my man. And you are ALL about the big wins and the big bucks.
Lissandra smiles as Dylan gets more and more hyped up at every word that she says.
Dylan: Ahh you mean as a homage to when I gave Xtreme the ‘Mind Your Head, Bitch...’?
Lissandra: Exactly. But that said, can you still do the Connecticutter?
Dylan: Now there’s a move I haven’t used in a while! You know what, Lissie? I may just pull out the Connecticutter. Y’know… For old times sake. We’ll see what happens.
Dylan and Lissandra finish up their pasta and it is here that we leave the couple.
It would seem as though that they are definitely ready for next Friday and Inferno. Is Duce Jones? He did well last night against Xtreme. But Dylan is a whole other level. Dylan is an athlete. Some would say THE athlete – the apex athlete. What will we see at Friday Night Inferno? Time will indeed tell.
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Word Count: 1,732
Dylan: Ah. I thought you guys might want to come over to talk to me.
Dylan gets off the exercise bike and wipes some sweat away from his face with a nearby towel just as the reporters crowd around him. He pushes through some to retrieve a bottle of water.
Reporter: Dylan! Dylan! A few words about next Friday?
Dylan begins to frown, he’s not impressed that his first name was used.
Dylan: First of all, that’s ‘Mr. Thomas’ to you, you idiot. Second… Well what do you want to know?
Reporter: Sorry. Mr. Thomas. Well let’s start with the fact that Jonathan Barrows unveiled a new title last night at Friday Night Inferno – the GCWA North American title - and you are set to be one of the first ones to compete for it, along with Duce Jones.
Dylan: ...And I’m gonna be the first one to hold it too. Let me tell you something: I might be new to GCWA, but it’s not my first time winning a title. See, previously, I was a former World Heavyweight Champion. Not in GCWA, but elsewhere and me winning the newly established North American title? It’s going to be a cinch. Mr. Jonathan Barrows made the right decision when he announced that I was the inaugural Champion.
Reporter: Um… That’s not what -
Dylan cuts the reporter off.
Dylan: Well he may as well have. Next question.
Reporter: It was last night that you challenged Duce to a match. What made you want to face him?
Dylan: Well… I mean… anyone’s better than Xtreme.
Dylan smirks.
Dylan: No but seriously. Duce Jones has nothing on ‘Perfection Personified’, but the man has caught my eye. I watched OCW when it was open and I saw him compete there. I’ll admit the guy is good. Is he as good as me? Of course not, but I will – reluctantly – give credit where due. Duce Jones, odd name aside, can go.
Dylan stops and whispers to himself, smiling and shaking his head.
Dylan: … Duce.
Reporter: Finally, do you have anything to say to your opponent next Friday?
Dylan takes another swig of his bottle of water before screwing the top back on and looks into the camera.
Dylan: Duce… Duce Jones. Next week… you and I are in the main event of Friday Night Inferno. Let’s see if you belong there. I don’t think you do. See the main event is for winners and you? You’re not a winner. Yes you beat Xtreme, but would you have beaten the mute bastard without my assistance and softening him up? I’m going with ‘no’. When I drop you with the Perfect Finisher, you’ll see why I am destined to be GCWA’s first ever North American Champion. Duce, there’s just no way that you are going to defeat me, my friend. I am ‘Perfection, itself, Personified’. And you? Let’s face it...your name is a synonym for...well… I’m too polite to say on camera but…. We both know to what I’m referring.
Dylan swigs some more water and rests an arm on one of the reporter’s shoulders while continuing to look down the camera.
Dylan: Oh and Mr. Barrows: Congratulations. Just with my being in the GCWA, their stock is rising. And when I become North American Champion? You’re gonna see it sky rocket.
Dylan looks into the camera with a huge smile on his face. He does the ‘mic drop’ action, winks and walks out of the gym door.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A few hours later and Dylan Thomas has changed out of his gym clothes and is back at home about to have dinner with Lissandra. Dylan comes downstairs wearing maroon silk pyjamas and a navy dressing gown with matching slippers. Lissandra is in the kitchen in trousers and a white t-shirt. She serves up some pasta just as Dylan walks up behind her, putting his hands on her hips and lovingly rests his head on her shoulder smelling her hair. He rocks her gently and lovingly from side to side and Lissandra smiles at this tenderness.
Dylan: Hey gorgeous.
Lissandra: Hey baby.
Dylan: New shampoo?
Lissandra: Apple and cinnamon. You like?
Dylan spins his wife around, the pasta ending up on the floor as he does so.
Lissandra: Woah!
Dylan smiles at her with his usual devilish grin.
Dylan: Oh yes…
Dylan begins to kiss Lissandra’s neck. She giggles but tries to wriggle away, wanting to rescue the pasta.
Lissandra: Dylan, baby… the pasta!
Dylan: We’ll order take -out…
Lissandra shakes her head, laughing and playfully bats his hands away.
Lissandra: No – Come on. I have to serve up.
Dylan: I’ll serve you something up!
Dylan smirks and picks Lissandra up scooping her legs from underneath her and carries her away from the kitchen. Lissandra squeals as he does so, and laughs. She then thinks about the gravity of the situation and realises that there is still pasta on the kitchen floor.
Lissandra: Dylan… Seriously… the pasta!
But Lissandra’s pleas fall on deaf -if horny – ears and Dylan carries his wife upstairs, kissing her as he does so. At one point he inadvertently bangs her head on the wall as they head upstairs.
Lissandra: Ow!
Dylan: Sorry baby…
Dylan chuckles, tosses Lissandra on the bed and shuts the door.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It’s later in the evening now – around 8:30 and the Thomas’s are just sitting around the kitchen table eating some newly cooked pasta. Dylan winks at Lissandra, and as she puts a forkful of pasta into her mouth, she looks at Dylan confused and still with a mouthful of pasta says:
Lissandra: What?
Dylan looks at his wife lovingly and Lissandra herself is still confused.
Dylan: You are by far, the most beautiful woman on the planet, Lissie.
Lissandra blushes still eating away at her pasta.
Dylan: I’m serious, angel. Tell me again how I was lucky enough to marry you.
Lissandra blushes again, smiling. Trying to steer the conversation onto business, Lissandra looks at Dylan much more seriously.
Lissandra: Anyway! How did it go at the gym today? I still don’t get why you didn’t use our gym but….
Dylan: Sometimes sweetness it’s good to be down with the peasants, y’know?
Dylan smirks and Lissandra smiles. She gobbles up a bit more pasta.
Dylan: Good job I did though – GCWA reporters wanted a word with yours truly.
Lissandra: While you were doing your workout?
Dylan: Yes. They just wanted to get my thoughts on the North American title and Duce Jones.
Lissandra: I didn’t get any messages.
Dylan: Don’t worry gorgeous, I handled it beautifully.
Lissandra: I’ve no doubt you did. For the record, as for your match next week for the North American title… Mr. Barrows has gone on record to say that the North American Championship is just one below the World Title. Dylan, this is a big deal. You have to win! You can’t let some idiot with the name Duce beat you for such prestige. No… baby… you, you are the one true athlete of that company. Then once you win next week… and prove to the entire world what you’ve been saying all along, down the line...I will personally talk with the Barrows boys and see about putting you in the World title picture. After all that’s where you belong. But this new championship is nothing to sneeze at baby and I think, it suits you just fine. It’s a fine stepping stone to even greater things.
Dylan: Absolutely sweetie. I mean Jonny Barrows has to see money in me.
Lissandra nods in agreement.
Lissandra: The stock of the DT Brand has soared and you’ve only had one match so far in GCWA. You might want to consider something though, baby.
Dylan: What’s that?
Lissandra: It might be an idea to make a GCWA version of the Thomas Alliance to protect you once you’re champion. Everyone is going to be gunning for you once you’re wearing the belt around your waist.
Dylan ponders this for a few moments, knowing the value of friends at his side. Dylan and Lissandra were after all members of Rob Culliford’s RCUW – the same federation that OCW’s Dravers Boys and Robert Morbidus stemmed from. While the Dravers Boys didn’t get on with RCUW’s tyrannical leader, Dylan Thomas always found the man fair.
Dylan: Lissie… that’s not a bad shout. But who do you think has the wrestling ability to watch our backs in the GCWA? I mean, no-one in that federation is on our level.
Lissandra thinks things through and shakes her head.
Lissandra: I don’t know yet sweetie - let’s give it time. For now, let’s concentrate on you kicking Duce’s butt and maybe even giving him a punt to the head. Just to really show the man who’s boss in the GCWA. You are Dylan Thomas. You are my man. And you are ALL about the big wins and the big bucks.
Lissandra smiles as Dylan gets more and more hyped up at every word that she says.
Dylan: Ahh you mean as a homage to when I gave Xtreme the ‘Mind Your Head, Bitch...’?
Lissandra: Exactly. But that said, can you still do the Connecticutter?
Dylan: Now there’s a move I haven’t used in a while! You know what, Lissie? I may just pull out the Connecticutter. Y’know… For old times sake. We’ll see what happens.
Dylan and Lissandra finish up their pasta and it is here that we leave the couple.
It would seem as though that they are definitely ready for next Friday and Inferno. Is Duce Jones? He did well last night against Xtreme. But Dylan is a whole other level. Dylan is an athlete. Some would say THE athlete – the apex athlete. What will we see at Friday Night Inferno? Time will indeed tell.
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Word Count: 1,732
