Werner dropped the mic and walked with Sasha to the back. Tojo could feel the hate. It was overwhelming and it made him a little lightheaded.
"Now that was a cigarette after sex," Weldon commented. "I think a star is born."
10.
Six Weeks Later
The Will Rogers Memorial Center
Fort Worth, Texas
Tojo watched the backstage monitor as Werner covered Amosa Latu and the ref made his three count.
Werner stood over the fallen Samoan and the ref pushed Werner's long arm upward. Sasha Media rushed in the ring and immediately tended to Amosa. Seeing that Werner was more articulate than anyone thought, a decision was made to turn Sasha face and have her become Amosa's mouthpiece. It occurred two weeks into her partnering with Werner. It was scripted as a dump on the part of Werner. He played it as if he felt Sasha wasn't perfect enough to represent him.
As the main event ended and Sasha helped Amosa to the back, Werner called for a mic.
"I have destroyed every adversary put before me," Werner said. "But your champion, the little boy, keeps evading me. Who do I have to destroy for an opportunity at the Hard Knocks world title?"
Tojo's music sounded, and the audience immediately charged back up. Tojo took his cue and walked purposefully to the ring. Werner watched menacingly as the masked man entered and approached him. The two stood nose to nose and the audience chanted for the Crimson Demon.
Werner, still clutching the mic, backed off only slightly to bring it back to his lips. "Ah, yes, the masked freak. You have been helping Guerrero Rojo keep the belt. You seem to have an unhealthy obsession with our young champion."
Tojo walked to the rope and took the microphone that Ronnie held out for him.
"I was like Guerrero Rojo in my youth. Before I became the damned and disfigured monster that you see before you. But my relationship with Guerrero Rojo is none of your concern, Hass. You have asked who you need to beat to face Rojo. Well, an answer has just walked into the ring and stared in your eyes."
"I am not afraid of you, demon," Werner said. "You may act like a monster, but you bleed like all men. You are flawed, imperfect, ugly. Just like all of them."
Werner motioned to the audience, and there wasn't an empty seat in the house. Ticket sales had doubled since Werner appeared on the scene.
"You call me a man, Werner Hass. But I am more than that, and less. I am Hell given form," Tojo said. "I am your end."
Both men simultaneously dropped their mics and began trading blows. The ring filled up quickly with wrestlers, refs and security. It took twenty people to keep the two monsters apart.
***
Tojo was in the locker room, putting on his civilian clothes. Werner, his hair wet and towel wrapped around his waist, walked to Tojo.
"Finally, the titans are clashing," Werner said happily.
"Yep," Tojo said. "It is going to be epic, as the kids say."
"I just want to thank you, again, for all of it," Werner said. "If I can be half the heel you have been in your illustrious career, it will be worthwhile."
A group of the wrestlers, led by Eli and Amosa, called to Werner for him to join them for a night out.
"I am trying to build those alliances you stressed are so important," Werner told Tojo.
"Great. Have a good time," Tojo said. "But take it easy on the drinks. It takes a lot, but Eden booze can get you drunk. And you don't want to pass out and sprout scales."
"I will be cautious," Werner assured him. "You should come."
"I wasn't invited," Tojo said, and he was hurt by it. Was he too old or irrelevant now to hang with the younger talent?
"I am sure it was an oversight," Werner insisted. "I'll tell them to invite you."
"I am not a charity, and I just want to go home and watch the tube," Tojo said.
"Okay, my brother," Werner said. "I will see you tomorrow."
Tojo sat, unobserved, and watched until the crowd thinned out and he was the only soul left in the dressing room.
11.
Three Weeks Later
The Will Rogers Memorial Center
Fort Worth, Texas
Tojo had arrived even earlier than Eli. He prepared himself mentally for his squash match with Werner. This was it. His martini shot. The end of a career that he loved. He and Werner had secretly worked out a fake injury angle. Weldon Dale thought this match was the beginning of a fruitful program, but it wasn't. It was a maneuver to eliminate the only legitimate obstacle in Werner Hass' path.
Tojo's in ring character was going to be destroyed that night. He was going to feign a neck injury, a stinger, and be put on the shelf. The fans had short memories, and so life and Hard Knocks would go on without the Crimson Demon. The smarks in the audience would figure he was rehabbing a lingering injury on a beach somewhere, Tojo figured. But nope. He would be only a spectator after that night, just like the normal folks.
He reflected on being a babyface these last few months. It had been nice, though he would have never admitted it out loud. Children wore official Crimson Demon cardboard string masks that Weldon gave away at the gates. Women propositioned him at arena entrances and exits. And while their attraction was extremely pleasing to an ugly old demon like Tojo, their attention only served as a reminder that there was no one he could love and lay with on Eden. He still hoped for that joining Mr. Blickenderfer had teased. And he wasn't very damn particular about who he was joined with.
His pockets had grown a little fatter, too, with his cut of the merchandise. T-shirts and decent looking color glossies of the Crimson Demon sold like hot cakes at every venue. He had made more on merchandise these last few weeks than he had ever earned before.
Tojo would contribute still by becoming a trainer specializing in heels. But the fun part of his career would be finished. He already missed it, but he knew Hard Knocks would be in good hands.
Werner Hass was already looked at as a locker room leader. He was more popular backstage than Tojo had ever been. Of course, most of the roster were in diapers when Tojo started in the business, and he had socialized a lot more in his human youth and rookie days. He understood why the boys rallied around Werner. To them, Tojo was on his way out. They respected him- craved his advice and approval. But Werner was one of them, in their eyes. The future.
Eli showed up and the others began to trickle in behind him. Tojo sat there sadly behind his mask as everyone prepared for the show.
***
The main event came quicker than Tojo had anticipated. He tired to dismiss the melancholy thoughts from his head and put on his game face. Werner was already in the ring, drawing heat as Tojo's music was cued.
Tojo marched with deadly intent to the ring. This bout had been billed as the irresistible force meeting the immovable object. Kong vs Zilla, There wasn't an unsold seat in the Will Rogers Memorial Center. And no one used their chair when Tojo hit the ring. The applause drowned out head ref David Brewer's instructions.
The bell rang and the two big men locked eyes in the middle of the ring. Werner finally raised his hand in the air, daring Tojo to test his strength. Tojo looked to the audience to see their thoughts on the matter. They approved so Tojo locked fingers with Werner and they mashed their chests together.
Tojo started to quiver and sink down to his knees. Werner grinned and nodded approvingly. Tojo started to work his way back up and turn Werner's wrists toward the earth. Werner began to nudge back down. He gave a shout and shoved Tojo back several feet.
The two locked up in the ring, and Werner whipped Tojo into the ropes. Tojo came back and collided with Werner, who wasn't moved. It was a classic no sell. Tojo ran back to the ropes and sprang at his foe again. Werner still didn't budge. Tojo went to the well one too many times and Werner gave him a quick clothes line. Tojo went down. He sat up on the mat and shook his head.
Werner helped Tojo up by his mask. He scooped up the Crimson Demon and slammed him. Werner put his mouth on the audience, asking them what th
ey thought of their hero freak now, as Tojo fought to stand. Werner went to him, poised to deliver a double axe handle but Tojo managed a gut punch that slowed the big man. Tojo landed a few more and Werner went down to his knees. Tojo geared up, appearing on the verge of a comeback, landing several blows to Werner's head. The ref admonished Tojo and he missed a blatant low blow delivered by Werner.
Werner caught his breath as Tojo squirmed on the mat. He stood and pulled Tojo up into an abdominal stretch. It was the beginning of Werner's five moves of doom, leading to his pile driver finish that he called delivering the payload. The script called for Tojo to break free and bump the ref in the process. Werner was going to then bring a chair in and deliver his finisher to Tojo, revive the ref, and get a three count.
The ref moved close to Tojo's agonized face and asked if he wanted to quit. Suddenly, David Brewer's look of pretend concern blurred, swirled and reformed into Mr. Blickenderfer's pale and thin visage.
"Hello Tojo," Mr. Blickenderfer said with a smile.
"Mr. Blickenderfer?" Tojo said, confused. "What is happening? Why are you here?"
"Listen carefully," Mr. Blickenderfer instructed. "I talked recently with Werner, and we feel it is best for you to suffer a legitimate injury. He is going to tweak your neck with his finisher. You are going to take weeks to recuperate, and you are going to explain that you didn't position yourself correctly, so that no one blames Werner."
"But why?" Tojo said. "You don't need to do that. I will sell it."
"Realism is very important," Mr. Blickenderfer explained. "It isn't personal. We don't want any loose corners for someone to pull at."
"But, I am a demon," Tojo said, struggling harder against Werner's submission move. "I can't be injured."
"Not by a human, Tojo," Werner whispered gravely. "But I am not a human."
"It's going to hurt. A lot," Mr. Blickenderfer advised Tojo. "They will take you to the emergency room. Don't worry about the x-rays. You aren't the first demon to be examined by human doctors. Hell's magic will keep them from seeing anything fiendish under your skin."
"Mr. Blickenderfer," Tojo pleaded. "It doesn't have to go down like this."
"Cheer up," Mr. Blickenderfer encouraged him. "You have served the dark lord well and riches are to come your way for this service."
Mr. Blickenderfer looked over Tojo at Werner. "Go home, Werner."
The ref's face reverted back to David Brewer. Werner shoved Tojo roughly into the ref. Tojo tumbled over the man. He picked his big form up quickly and turned. Werner punched him in the head. And it was the first time Tojo had taken a legitimate blow. His eyelids fluttered and he went back down to the mat.
Werner climbed out of the ring and tossed Boris Shinnick from the folding chair he was sitting on. Werner took the chair into the ring and positioned it on the center of the mat. The audience screamed for his blood as he scooped Tojo up and rammed his head down onto the metal chair.
Tojo felt something in his neck pop. His vision blurred and he suddenly felt nauseous and weightless. Tojo's arms and legs felt warm and numb. His body ignored his command to move. He was paralyzed. Tojo knew this was the result of taking a stinger. He panted and found it hard to catch his breath. Tears streamed down his mask as he wondered if he would ever be able to move again.
The concerned faces of Weldon, Boris and Ronnie crowded his vision. Tojo finally let loose with a scream of pain, fear and betrayal.
12.
Six Weeks later
Tojo's home
Fort Worth, Texas
Tojo sat in his recliner and stared blankly at the television. It was September already. The heat was still kicking ass but the promise of fall was starting to cool the night.
Tojo was still wearing his neck brace. He wouldn't need it for more than a few more days, and he couldn't wait to burn the damn thing.
The nurse Weldon had hired, Darla Hogue, was still messing around behind him in his kitchenette.
"Darla, you don't have to clean up after me," Tojo called out. "You are not a maid."
Darla walked into the living room area and plopped on the sofa. She had reddish gray hair and she was thick. She was definitely pretty. Tojo liked her face and build, but couldn't say why as he had no natural biological built-in response to human females. Maybe it had rubbed off on him as she had spent the last six weeks puttering around the trailer for him.
Darla was dressed in her blue scrubs and she had her purse in hand, indicating she was about to leave. "I don't mind doing a few dishes for you, Tojo," she said. "I should get paid for doing something around here other than watching soaps with you."
"I won't tell if you won't," Tojo said with a playful wink. "Hell, Darla, I just appreciate the company."
Darla turned to the television. The program they usually watched together flickered on the screen. "What did I miss?" she asked.
"Nathaniel is secretly the father of Erica's unborn child," Tojo filled her in.
"I knew he was the one she slept with at the masquerade ball," Darla said.
She reached over to the side table near Tojo and grabbed the remote. She muted the set. "So, I guess this will most likely be my last week here. You're healing just fine and you probably can't wait until I am out of your hair."
"Well, I will sure miss you, Darla," Tojo admitted. "But I'd be lying if I told you I wasn't anxious to get out of this damn trailer and back to work."
"What do you do?" she asked.
"You don't know what I do?" Tojo said curiously, realizing that he had not spoken in detail about his work.
"You said you had been hurt on the job when I first showed up, but I could tell you didn't want to talk about it," Darla said. "Whatever happened was weighing on you. I can be pretty intuitive that way."
"I figured my company told you what I did when they hired you," Tojo said.
"It came through the service I work for," Darla explained. "The service signs my checks."
"I am... was... a wrestler," Tojo told her.
"No, you're teasing," Darla giggled.
"I wouldn't lie to you," Tojo said. "I was a pro wrestler for thirty years with the local Hard Knocks promotion out of Boyd. Of course, my wrestling days ended with this injury. I am going to work creative now and train up and comers. You watch wrestling?"
"Never," Darla said. "What kind of wrestler were you?"
"Heel," Tojo said, and then Darla's face twisted curiously and he clarified, "Bad guy. I was a villain."
Darla laughed disbelievingly. "You a bad guy, Tojo Smith? I have known plenty and you don't come even close."
"It's a character," Tojo said. "An act."
"Then you must be one hell of an actor," Darla said. She stood and hiked her purse up her shoulder. "Well, I have to go. I am going to miss you when this week is over."
"Well, we can stay friends, right?" Tojo said, and though there was absolutely nothing for either to gain, he felt determined to keep his association with Darla going. "We got our programs."
"I usually DVR them. I guess you could come to my place from time to time and we could binge watch?" Darla recommended.
"Well, yeah, that'd be great," Tojo said.
"It's a date," Darla said, leaving the trailer.
Tojo waited until he heard her car back over the gravel and he started switching channels on his television. He hated the soaps, but Darla liked them, so he had endured the melodrama, fantasying chair shots in the storylines to jazz things up. He pressed the channel button until Boris Shinnick appeared on screen with Eli. Tojo whipped the volume up.
"I am standing here with Hard Knocks world champion, Guerrero Rojo," Boris started the interview. "A week from today, Guerrero Rojo, you will face what many are calling the most destructive and powerful machine that has ever terrorized Hard Knocks. Werner Hass crippled the legendary monster known as the Crimson Demon. And now he has his sights set on you. Many are referring to your upcoming title defense as a Davey and Goliath match. Do you care to comment?"
Boris shifted the microphone to Eli's face.
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