Post by Pequeño Dinosaurio on Dec 22, 2022 19:47:43 GMT
“Again mate! One more time and we’ll go get some grub!” Union Jack bellowed before rubbing his hands together to get some feeling back into his digits.
Glancing around the empty horseshoe shaped seating area of the small arena, puffs of breath turn into ice vapour before his eyes as Pequeno Dinosaurio runs through the sequence for, what had to be, the tenth time in a row.
Running as fast as he can, he hits the ropes with a Tiger Feint Kick, spinning himself around almost impossibly fast as he hears, “Left side!” Causing him to roll to the right only to hear, “Right side!” Causing him to dive into another roll on the opposite side.
Not stopping there, the diminutive luchador does a backward roll which led to the young dinosaur sliding his way to a far corner of the ring.
Defensive maneuvers, over and over. Jack felt they would be the key to his success and insisted that Dinosaurio drill them until they became second nature, until they were instinct. Sweat dripped down his chest and back chilling him to the bone.
The ice rumble would be contested at some ten degrees below freezing, creating an additional opponent to conquer beyond the twenty nine other entrants. He certainly wasn’t in Mexico anymore.
Training inside the home of the Manchester Storm and Altrincham Aces hockey clubs, the green knight of IIW was readying himself physically and mentally for what was to come.
Entering the ring they had set up, Union Jack appears to be doing his best impression of Mickie Goldmill from the Rocky movies. A green towel draped over his shoulder.
A navy blue wool hat is covering the upper portion of his bear mask. A quarter zip up polo has its collar wildly flailing about from underneath a well worn hoodie matching his woollen hat.
“Good job mate! You’re gonna eat lightning and crap thunder!” Trailing off, Dinosaurio simply stares at him, missing the reference.
“Here, no sense in you getting sick.” Throwing his friend the thick green towel, Dinosaurio immediately wraps himself up in an attempt to recover warmth. “I’d say you’re as ready as you’re gonna be! But remember, this match doesn’t favour you mate!”
Taking a deep breath, the smallest man in the ice rumble nodded. Even drawing number nineteen out of thirty wasn’t enough to guarantee a strong showing. One mistake and the dream disappeared, just like his breath on the cold arena air.
The dream was to wrestle for a World Championship, a dream that winning the IIW Ice Rumble could make a reality. One night could change the trajectory of his career forever.
Although he was truly happy teaming with his friend Union Jack, he dreamed of holding a World Championship just as his father did.
“Si amigo, I know. Even coming in late this is a risk, but I have to try. I have to believe.” Following his friend, he doesn’t even realize they pass the locker room and leave the rubberized flooring, such is the passion he holds for his sport. “I have to believe that it’s possible. That at the end of this thing I could hear my name called when the smoke clears. I know it’s a long shot ese, but I know I can do this. If I play it start and strike when it counts, I know I can do this.”
A few paces ahead past the end of the boards surrounding the ice surface is what is essentially a window in a wall, a ledge sits outside a container of straws and a tip cups sat beside each other on one side and malt vinegar, salt pepper and ketchup on the other.
The word ‘Canteen’ is painted on a wooden sign above the window.
Approaching, Jack has to ask. There were a million different ways to earn a title shot. “Why this?”
His answer was blunt, not arrogant, but concise. “Because I think I can beat him.”
Genuinely confused, Union Jack, turns to his partner as they approach the window. “Huh?”
“John Cavanagh.” Pequeno Dinosaurio clears up, leaving no doubt. “I know it sounds crazy when you’re the smallest guy in the locker room, but I think I can beat him. One on one. No gimmicks. No ladders. No Tables…”
Referencing the only two losses he’d suffered in IIW thus far, neither were wrestling matches. Ina wrestling match, his chances improved greatly. “…just me and him. Mano e Mano, I think I can do it. I feel like he’d underestimate me and I could surprise him, hell ese, I could surprise the whole world.”
Turning to the grey haired man manning the canteen, “Two plates of chips, thanks lad.” Union Jack orders receiving a smile and a nod before stuffing a five pound note in the tip jar and turning back to his friend. “Go on mate.”
“This is the lunch you promised me? French fries?” The young dinosaur’s scoff turns to laughter. “Hardly a meal befitting a champion!”
Brushing aside Dinosaurio’s dismissal, “How dare you disparage the honour of arena chips!” Union Jack exclaims, feigning insult. “If I were one hundred percent, I’d…”
The two trailing off in laughter together bring Jack to another subject. “Speaking of which, Doc says I’ll be fit to compete again after the Ice Rumble…time to go get those belts mate. It’s time.”
Rubbing his hands together again, it was easy to see Jack was excited to be home for the holidays. “Until then, I’m looking for a date for t’night!”
“Of course you are amigo!” Dinosaurio starts, laughing. “I don’t do Tinder ese, demasiadas mujeres locas amigo. Too many crazy women.”
It was Union Jack’s turn to scoff, “Tinder is for rookies mate.”
Shaking his head, curiosity gets the better of him. “I know i’m going to regret this amigo, but fine…what do you use?”
As cold as the air around them, Jack answers. “Facebook.”
“Facebook?” Pequeno Dinosaurio questioned. Clearly he wasn’t expecting such a mundane answer.
“Aye mate.” The Lucha bear confirms, adding. “Facebook marketplace to be exact.”
The confused look upon Dinosaurio’s face was clear even with his mask, Jack happily explains. “You just search for wedding dresses in a hundred mile radius to find recently divorced birds and then sort by dress size…”
Stunned into silence, the perennial good guy in Dinosaurio was speechless. Jack, however, had no such issues, adding. “And if that fails, I go to Local baby sitters. You just hire a nice local girl, tell her the kid is asleep upstairs and not to wake em. Then, you go to the pub for a few hours and come back suitably lubricated. On your return you enter the kids room to find an empty bed and an open window. The baby sitter will be absolutely devastated and willing to ‘do anything’ to make you feel better."
Finally able to muster words, Pequeno Dinosaurio stutters. “That's... that's..."
"Genius, I know.” Union Jack says with a confidence befitting a man who’s successfully pulled off both scenarios. “I call it the Gerry McCann."
Laughing because it’s all he could do, Dinosaurio shakes his head again. “That’s horrible amigo!”
Incorrigible, Union Jack just can’t help himself, “And if that fails, just get yourself admitted to the local ER. Trust me mate, you wanna date an endoscopy nurse at least once in your lifetime. It ain't our fault the male G spot is where it is, may as well get yourself a bird who knows how to find it."
In full near hysterical laughter, two cardboard containers of fries are placed through the wicket. Jack settles up with the old chap running the canteen and joins his friend at a nearby picnic table.
“Do you really think you can do it?” Jack asks turning things serious once again.
Unfastening the strap on his mask, he points a fry at his friend, emphasizing his point. “Si amigo, I really do. I think if I get anyone on the roster one on one, I can win. John Cavanagh included.”
“Then there’s nothing left but to do it mate, go out there and give it your all. I’ll be in the back with ‘Nessa and Wolf cheering you on.” The usually boisterous and loud Union Jack was genuine and sincere. If his best friend truly believed in his dream, then he would too.
Swallowing a mouthful of fries, he hated how good they were right now. “Vanessa says I should start branding ‘age of the dinosaur’ for when it happens, not if amigo. When.”
Vanessa believed, if for no other reason than because she had to. Their fathers careers were locked together and now theirs would be too. Pequeno Dinosaurio would always be her first client.
But most importantly, the man behind the mask believed. “I’m telling you amigo, nothing stops me this time! No ice age is slowing this Dino, twenty twenty three won’t be the year of the rabbit…it will be the year of the dinosaur!”
Number nineteen on the entry list, number one in the hearts of the fans; Pequeno Dinosaurio.
Glancing around the empty horseshoe shaped seating area of the small arena, puffs of breath turn into ice vapour before his eyes as Pequeno Dinosaurio runs through the sequence for, what had to be, the tenth time in a row.
Running as fast as he can, he hits the ropes with a Tiger Feint Kick, spinning himself around almost impossibly fast as he hears, “Left side!” Causing him to roll to the right only to hear, “Right side!” Causing him to dive into another roll on the opposite side.
Not stopping there, the diminutive luchador does a backward roll which led to the young dinosaur sliding his way to a far corner of the ring.
Defensive maneuvers, over and over. Jack felt they would be the key to his success and insisted that Dinosaurio drill them until they became second nature, until they were instinct. Sweat dripped down his chest and back chilling him to the bone.
The ice rumble would be contested at some ten degrees below freezing, creating an additional opponent to conquer beyond the twenty nine other entrants. He certainly wasn’t in Mexico anymore.
Training inside the home of the Manchester Storm and Altrincham Aces hockey clubs, the green knight of IIW was readying himself physically and mentally for what was to come.
Entering the ring they had set up, Union Jack appears to be doing his best impression of Mickie Goldmill from the Rocky movies. A green towel draped over his shoulder.
A navy blue wool hat is covering the upper portion of his bear mask. A quarter zip up polo has its collar wildly flailing about from underneath a well worn hoodie matching his woollen hat.
“Good job mate! You’re gonna eat lightning and crap thunder!” Trailing off, Dinosaurio simply stares at him, missing the reference.
“Here, no sense in you getting sick.” Throwing his friend the thick green towel, Dinosaurio immediately wraps himself up in an attempt to recover warmth. “I’d say you’re as ready as you’re gonna be! But remember, this match doesn’t favour you mate!”
Taking a deep breath, the smallest man in the ice rumble nodded. Even drawing number nineteen out of thirty wasn’t enough to guarantee a strong showing. One mistake and the dream disappeared, just like his breath on the cold arena air.
The dream was to wrestle for a World Championship, a dream that winning the IIW Ice Rumble could make a reality. One night could change the trajectory of his career forever.
Although he was truly happy teaming with his friend Union Jack, he dreamed of holding a World Championship just as his father did.
“Si amigo, I know. Even coming in late this is a risk, but I have to try. I have to believe.” Following his friend, he doesn’t even realize they pass the locker room and leave the rubberized flooring, such is the passion he holds for his sport. “I have to believe that it’s possible. That at the end of this thing I could hear my name called when the smoke clears. I know it’s a long shot ese, but I know I can do this. If I play it start and strike when it counts, I know I can do this.”
A few paces ahead past the end of the boards surrounding the ice surface is what is essentially a window in a wall, a ledge sits outside a container of straws and a tip cups sat beside each other on one side and malt vinegar, salt pepper and ketchup on the other.
The word ‘Canteen’ is painted on a wooden sign above the window.
Approaching, Jack has to ask. There were a million different ways to earn a title shot. “Why this?”
His answer was blunt, not arrogant, but concise. “Because I think I can beat him.”
Genuinely confused, Union Jack, turns to his partner as they approach the window. “Huh?”
“John Cavanagh.” Pequeno Dinosaurio clears up, leaving no doubt. “I know it sounds crazy when you’re the smallest guy in the locker room, but I think I can beat him. One on one. No gimmicks. No ladders. No Tables…”
Referencing the only two losses he’d suffered in IIW thus far, neither were wrestling matches. Ina wrestling match, his chances improved greatly. “…just me and him. Mano e Mano, I think I can do it. I feel like he’d underestimate me and I could surprise him, hell ese, I could surprise the whole world.”
Turning to the grey haired man manning the canteen, “Two plates of chips, thanks lad.” Union Jack orders receiving a smile and a nod before stuffing a five pound note in the tip jar and turning back to his friend. “Go on mate.”
“This is the lunch you promised me? French fries?” The young dinosaur’s scoff turns to laughter. “Hardly a meal befitting a champion!”
Brushing aside Dinosaurio’s dismissal, “How dare you disparage the honour of arena chips!” Union Jack exclaims, feigning insult. “If I were one hundred percent, I’d…”
The two trailing off in laughter together bring Jack to another subject. “Speaking of which, Doc says I’ll be fit to compete again after the Ice Rumble…time to go get those belts mate. It’s time.”
Rubbing his hands together again, it was easy to see Jack was excited to be home for the holidays. “Until then, I’m looking for a date for t’night!”
“Of course you are amigo!” Dinosaurio starts, laughing. “I don’t do Tinder ese, demasiadas mujeres locas amigo. Too many crazy women.”
It was Union Jack’s turn to scoff, “Tinder is for rookies mate.”
Shaking his head, curiosity gets the better of him. “I know i’m going to regret this amigo, but fine…what do you use?”
As cold as the air around them, Jack answers. “Facebook.”
“Facebook?” Pequeno Dinosaurio questioned. Clearly he wasn’t expecting such a mundane answer.
“Aye mate.” The Lucha bear confirms, adding. “Facebook marketplace to be exact.”
The confused look upon Dinosaurio’s face was clear even with his mask, Jack happily explains. “You just search for wedding dresses in a hundred mile radius to find recently divorced birds and then sort by dress size…”
Stunned into silence, the perennial good guy in Dinosaurio was speechless. Jack, however, had no such issues, adding. “And if that fails, I go to Local baby sitters. You just hire a nice local girl, tell her the kid is asleep upstairs and not to wake em. Then, you go to the pub for a few hours and come back suitably lubricated. On your return you enter the kids room to find an empty bed and an open window. The baby sitter will be absolutely devastated and willing to ‘do anything’ to make you feel better."
Finally able to muster words, Pequeno Dinosaurio stutters. “That's... that's..."
"Genius, I know.” Union Jack says with a confidence befitting a man who’s successfully pulled off both scenarios. “I call it the Gerry McCann."
Laughing because it’s all he could do, Dinosaurio shakes his head again. “That’s horrible amigo!”
Incorrigible, Union Jack just can’t help himself, “And if that fails, just get yourself admitted to the local ER. Trust me mate, you wanna date an endoscopy nurse at least once in your lifetime. It ain't our fault the male G spot is where it is, may as well get yourself a bird who knows how to find it."
In full near hysterical laughter, two cardboard containers of fries are placed through the wicket. Jack settles up with the old chap running the canteen and joins his friend at a nearby picnic table.
“Do you really think you can do it?” Jack asks turning things serious once again.
Unfastening the strap on his mask, he points a fry at his friend, emphasizing his point. “Si amigo, I really do. I think if I get anyone on the roster one on one, I can win. John Cavanagh included.”
“Then there’s nothing left but to do it mate, go out there and give it your all. I’ll be in the back with ‘Nessa and Wolf cheering you on.” The usually boisterous and loud Union Jack was genuine and sincere. If his best friend truly believed in his dream, then he would too.
Swallowing a mouthful of fries, he hated how good they were right now. “Vanessa says I should start branding ‘age of the dinosaur’ for when it happens, not if amigo. When.”
Vanessa believed, if for no other reason than because she had to. Their fathers careers were locked together and now theirs would be too. Pequeno Dinosaurio would always be her first client.
But most importantly, the man behind the mask believed. “I’m telling you amigo, nothing stops me this time! No ice age is slowing this Dino, twenty twenty three won’t be the year of the rabbit…it will be the year of the dinosaur!”
Number nineteen on the entry list, number one in the hearts of the fans; Pequeno Dinosaurio.