"Before I talk about my upcoming match," Eli said. "I think it is important to speak to the Crimson Demon. Demon, I know you are watching. I just want to say that everyone here hopes and prays to see you in the ring again someday. Godspeed mi héroe! Now, as far as Werner Hass is concerned, he may have most of the ingredients to be a champion, but he is missing the most important. Heart. I have defeated every challenger to my title, and I have proven that I am not the fluke most suspected. I will defeat Werner Hass. And I will do it for my friend, the Crimson Demon! And I will finally lay the rumors to rest, and cement my reputation as the undisputed Hard Knocks world champion!"
Eli repeated his promo, in Spanish this time, and a rather cheesy looking flip transition revealed the same set with Werner Hass now standing next to Boris for a promo.
The sight of Werner immediately angered Tojo. He had been tricked by the cunning demon. All of that brother business had been bullshit. Tojo had been lured in almost as badly as the rest of the roster. The son of a demonic bitch had been plotting to cripple him the entire time.
"Many have noted that you have been suspiciously quiet since seemingly ending the career of the Crimson Demon," Boris said. "What would you say to those critics who accuse you of knowingly crippling the man?"
"I did not cripple the Crimson Demon," Werner insisted. "The Crimson Demon was crippled by his own weakness. The monster had grown soft. He started caring more about what the idiots in the audience thought than his own evil mission. A true demon would have served Hell over his own selfish needs. And as the people began to cheer for him, his power began to fade. I put him out of his misery. And I will end this ridiculous charade of Guerrero Rojo as champion. If he is lucky, he will walk away. If he isn't, he may never walk again. But he will have company in his misery."
Werner stared intensely into the camera. "Isn't that right, Crimson Demon?"
Tojo turned off the television and walked to the refrigerator for a beer. When he returned, Mr. Blickenderfer sat quietly on the couch. "How are you feeling, Tojo?"
"I'm just about healed up," Tojo said, taking his seat and resisting the urge to assail the supervisor with every obscenity he knew.
"I have one more favor to ask of you," Mr. Blickenderfer said. "In a week, Werner and Guerrero Rojo will start a program. I want you to attend the event."
"Why?" Tojo asked.
"Well, I know you have been in the dark with your injury, so let me bring you up to speed. Rojo and Werner have been rehearsing a massive beat down at the conclusion of their match. Rojo is pushing for a spectacular burial. They plan on having him chase Werner for the belt afterward. They will see-saw back and forth. They think this rivalry could have a long run. But Satan disagrees."
"How so?"
"He wants Guerrero Rojo out of the picture. But you know how tenacious the young man is," Mr. Blickenderfer said. "Werner has been instructed to cripple him. It'll be an easy enough thing to accomplish. Everyone in creative and Werner himself has argued that the bumps Rojo want to perform are too dangerous. And Werner has convinced the locker room that he is still quite torn up over your injury."
Tojo's stomach sank. Eli was a good kid with a bright future. This didn't seem right.
"Werner will just add a little demonic strength at the end," Mr. Blickenderfer continued. "No one will be surprised. Hotshots like Guerrero Rojo take career-ending bumps all of the time. He will receive a neck injury, worse than yours. He will recover, but never be able to wrestle again. Werner knows how to make this wound happen. He is very skilled at it."
"But, why, Mr. Blickenderfer? We need top babyfaces to keep the balance."
"Tojo, I can't tell you why the devil wants this," Mr. Blickenderfer said. "The script is written in the pits and we are all given our roles to play, programs to work and angles to maintain. It is for the good of the business, eh? You have used that term enough in your career. We are all merely pawns."
"What do you want me to do?" Tojo asked, dread still churning in him.
"Attend the event," Mr. Blickenderfer said. "Appear happy. Healthy. Maintain your guilt in your own injury. Put Werner over as a good worker who would never stiff shot someone out of the business. Maybe voice your concern to Rojo about the beat down. And after it occurs, help put the blame on Rojo for being a constant risk taker. No one will blame Werner. They will use it, of course, to add to his mystique as a villain. But none behind the scenes will think he had a direct hand in ending two careers."
Tojo stammered for a second. "It just seems-"
"Heavy-handed?" Mr. Blickenderfer said with a chuckle. "I told you this is how the dark lord rolls, Tojo. I know being Eden-born can make you a little empathetic with these mortals. But I promise, as soon as this chore is handled, I will join you with a bride."
Mr. Blickenderfer changed his appearance to that of Darla Hogue, clad in sexy lingerie. "We can make your companion look like anyone," Mr. Blickenderfer said, in Darla's voice. "I have had sex, Tojo. I know it may be a hard thing for you to comprehend, but I assure you it is glorious. You can even sire a new Eden-born demon. How rewarding would that be?"
Tojo thought on it. He was a servant of Hell, and he knew he had to honor his duty. He felt for Eli, but he had to maintain kayfabe in Hell's eyes.
"I'll do it, Mr. Blickenderfer," Tojo agreed solemnly.
Mr. Blickenderfer assumed his old shape. "For the good of the business, my friend."
13.
One week later
Will Rogers Memorial Center
Fort Worth, Texas
It had been a good night. Tojo had worn a suit and his mask. A few fans had caught a glimpse of him entering the arena and this caused a decent spike in his merchandise sales at the gate.
He was greeted like a returning hero and legend. He had followed the notes he had been given and the night flashed by to the intermission before the main event. Tojo was conversing with Amosa in the locker room when Weldon approached.
"It's a hell of show so far!" Weldon said proudly. "And wait until I archive this for the subscribers. I think we will hit an all time high!"
"You aren't streaming this live?" Tojo asked.
"Nope. It is part of the new business direction. I didn't want to discourage a full house," Weldon said. "I'll burn the midnight oil and get a properly edited event pulled together before Sunday."
"Well, I saw people getting turned away at the gate, so you have hit a home run," Tojo noted.
"We wouldn't be here without you, my friend," Weldon said. "You know, Tojo, I have to tell you. You are the most unselfish person this business has ever seen. You have always put the business before your own needs. You are one of a kind and I am proud to call you brother," Weldon said.
Weldon embraced him, and Tojo felt a cold dagger of shame pierce his chest. He returned the hug, the best he could, and he was grateful when Weldon excused himself to go ringside for the main event.
Then Eli gave Tojo a hug, and said, "I owe you so much, Tojo."
Werner approached Tojo, and paused as Eli turned out of the locker room.
"Good luck," Tojo said, glad he had a mask on so Werner couldn't see the disdain.
Werner leaned in close to Tojo's ear. "I don't need luck. Hail Satan."
Werner left and the rest of the locker room cleared out to watch the event at the gorilla position. Tojo stayed, sitting sadly on the bench. His head charted back to Eli's beginnings with Hard Knocks. Tojo recalled the training he had assisted in. The growth Eli had demonstrated in a short time. The kid was like a son to him, and Guerrero Rojo was about to have his wings clipped. He imagined someone trying to take the business from him when he was Eli's age. It would have been a fate worse than death.
Tojo heard the crowd erupt and he knew that the match was underway. But all he could do was sit there. He didn't have the courage or heart to watch the carnage. He sat for several minutes and tried to remind himself of the secret beneath his skin, his calling, duty and the damnation that he couldn't kick out of.
Weldon's kind words repeated in his mind, 'You are the most unselfish person this business has ever seen. You have always put the business before your own needs.'
Tojo's heart began to hammer and he considered the punishment that would follow. And he suddenly didn't give a good damn anymore.
"This is bad business," he concluded.
He stood and scoured the locker room. He found an aluminum pipe wrench, left near the showers by maintenance, and he dashed from the locker room. Tojo cut through the crowd to the monitor. A trio of referees were trying to control Werner while a seemingly unconscious Guerrero Rojo lay defenseless.
"Where are we?" Tojo asked.
"He took the strap, and he has put the kid through three tables and he is about to drive him onto a chair," Amosa reported. "This is a brutal beat down, man. I hate it when Eli does this crap."
Tojo watched as Werner popped from the ring to grab a folding chair.
He charged through the entrance, Amosa calling out behind him. The crowd roared with shocked surprise. Tojo hit the ring as Werner, his back to the ramp, was putting Eli in the final position for the finisher which would kill his career.
Tojo delivered the wrench in a double axe handle strike to Werner's back. Werner howled and arched. He fell to the mat. Tojo rolled Eli through the ropes and to the security personnel. Eli was out cold.
"He's hurt!" Tojo hollered. "Get him out of here!"
Weldon approached Tojo from the floor. "What are you doing?" he demanded.
"Trust me, Weldon-" Tojo started, but before he could explain, he was pulled back roughly to the center of the ring.
Werner glowered at him. Tojo swung the wrench, but Werner caught his arm and squeezed until Tojo dropped the weapon.
"Figured I could hurt you back, you bastard," Tojo growled.
"I am a pit demon, Tojo. I am very well acquainted with pain," Werner said angrily.
Werner head-butted Tojo. Tojo fell back. Werner picked him up and tossed him to the corner. He landed at least twenty punches with those huge fists of his. He paused and offered his chin to a dazed Tojo.
"Go ahead. Best shot," he encouraged.
Tojo rammed a thumb in Werner's eye. Werner screamed and recoiled.
"Yeah, an eye gouge is a pretty damned good momentum killer," Tojo teased.
He went for the wrench, but Werner's demonic foot came down and broke the tool in half. The audience was still and quiet. Tojo looked up and Werner had reverted to full demon form. He panted and his entire figure, covered in rough and dark slimy scales, quivered angrily. His demonic orange eyes glowed with fury and the sides of his head expanded like a cobra's hood.
"Werner, your scales are out," Tojo advised him.
Werner's reptilian face bellowed and he leaned forward, backhanding Tojo away.
He leapt on Tojo and ripped his mask off. He twisted Tojo toward the audience and held Tojo's naked face up to his fans.
"Show them, Tojo," he snarled. "Show them who you really are."
"No," Tojo said, struggling. "That's not my face. That's not who I am."
Werner opened his jaws and bit deeply into Tojo's shoulder. Tojo shrieked and his red scales popped out. The audience gasped collectively. Some were trying to leave through back exits that wouldn't open and a fair number vocally insisted that this was all part of the show, somehow.
"Now that I have exposed you, I am going to break your neck in front of them all," Werner said. He put his strong scaly hands on either side of Tojo's head and prepared to twist.
Werner grunted and fell to the side. Boris Shinnick stood with the chair that he had just smacked Werner's sore back with.
"You leave Tojo alone!" the old commentator warned, standing ready to deliver another chair shot.
Werner jumped up and slashed Boris' head clean off. The audience screamed in stunned terror and people were flinging themselves against the exit doors that wouldn't open.
Werner picked up Boris' severed head and studied it. The toupee came loose and the bald dead head of Boris fell to the mat like a rotten cantaloupe. Werner laughed and tossed the toupee aside. He brought his foot down on the head and squashed it. Boris' eyes shot out of his skull and into the front row.
Ronnie came at Werner with a fire extinguisher. He motioned the hose at the demon, but Ronnie had a hard time figuring out how to turn it on. Werner punched through the announcer's Hard Knocks t-shirt and pulled Ronnie's heart out of his chest.
He held it toward the audience as Ronnie instantly fell dead to the stage which was reddened and wet already from Boris' blood.
"Eat your heart out," Werner said, taking a meaty bite from the warm organ.
Werner spotted Weldon, sitting frozen behind the commentator's table. He started to go for him but Tojo wrapped the big demon in a sleeper hold.
"You will not hurt Weldon or anyone else here tonight!" Tojo swore. "You're finished, brother."
"What are you doing?" Werner gasped.
"I am changing the script," Tojo muttered. Then he twisted his arms and broke Werner's neck. The larger demon's orange eyes dulled and Tojo let Werner's body sag slowly to the mat.
Everyone froze and watched as Tojo put his human skin back on. The audience looked frightened and confused. Suddenly, screams erupted from the back. Hundreds of ugly, slimy pit demons appeared from nowhere and barred the exits. They swarmed in a circle, driving people back into their seats.
A portal materialized from the air in the ring and Mr. Blickenderfer stepped through it. He motioned for a mic. David Brewer brought one to him. Tojo watched in shock as the demon tap tested the mic and then spoke.
"Ladies and gentlemen, my name is Mr. Blickenderfer. I know that you are confused and fearful. If you will give me your attention, I will try to explain things."
Mr. Blickenderfer motioned to Tojo, who was still licking his wounds. "This man you called Crimson Demon is known by the human name, Tojo Smith. But he has been fooling all of you. He is a demon, like me. We both serve the devil- hail, Satan! Tojo's job was to make you hate. For your hate powers the machinations of Hell. Your negativity keeps us running.
"But you began to cheer for Tojo. And this confused him. He was a good soldier, and we enlisted his aid to build Werner- the dead demon there next to the headless old man. And somewhere along the way, Tojo was infected by your humanity. He learned compassion and betrayed the devil. Unfortunately, he has exposed all of you to this most precious secret, and I am afraid you will all have to be killed."
Mr. Blickenderfer motioned to Tojo, who was picking himself up off the mat. "But before you die, you will have the honor of seeing Tojo broken by me. I am one of the oldest and most powerful demons, and I will leave one breath in Tojo so he can see your children devoured by my army!"
Mr. Blickenderfer tossed the microphone aside and his green, putrid scales broke through the human skin.
Tojo hollered and charged. Mr. Blickenderfer easily evaded him and administered a chop to the back of Tojo's neck. Tojo hit the ropes and stopped himself from bounding back.
"Come on you clumsy oaf!" Mr. Blickenderfer taunted. "Show me what you have."
Tojo approached Mr. Blickenderfer slowly. He offered his hand for a strength test.
"Okay," Mr. Blickenderfer said with a chuckle. "We'll give them a show."
They laced fingers but Mr. Blickenderfer immediately kicked Tojo in the gut. Tojo sucked in wind and bent forward and Mr. Blickenderfer elbowed him on the back of the neck.
Mr. Blickenderfer strutted around the ring and the people booed him. He told them to shut up and made threatening gestures toward a couple of fat ladies in the front row. Then he pulled Tojo back up and slammed him.
Mr. Blickenderfer climbed the top rope and delivered a flying elbow to Tojo's heart. Tojo's body jerked and flattened again. Mr. Blickenderfer pulled Tojo up and bear hugged him.
"Don't think it ends here, Tojo," he whispered. "You will suffer forever in the dark realm. There are no martyrs in Hell- only e
xamples and very few of them. No one will ever dare defy Satan after this."
Tojo felt his strength fading. His surroundings were dimming. And just as he was going to succumb to the blackness, he heard something.
Tojo Tojo Tojo Tojo
The crowd was chanting his name. And then he felt something he had never felt before. The energy of the people began to soak into his skin. His body began to quake and strengthen. Mr. Blickenderfer looked at this phenomenon and tried to reinforce his hold on Tojo. Tojo managed to slip his hands free and he punched Mr. Blickenderfer in the head. The demon reeled, surprised, but held his grip. Tojo landed two more massive strikes and a dazed Mr. Blickenderfer dropped his hold. Tojo immediately maneuvered Mr. Blickenderfer into a cross-face chicken wing.
Texas Strange Page 30
