[The Knights of Columbus Hall, Covina, California.]

 

[Saturday, August 15, 2009.]

 

[Ryan Andrews laced his boots up, and stomped each one to make sure they were tight.  He started warming up, stretching and doing push-ups, in preparation for his match.  Some time ago, his old home, Old Line Wrestling in Baltimore, had closed up shop for good, leaving him and his partners in the Stone and Steel Syndicate scattered throughout the continent.

 

The original duo of Troy Matthews and Alex Markham had taken on a failed campaign to become the most dominant tag team in the business, while he, loner that he was, preferred to barnstorm and explore the wrestling industry at its very roots.  Sure, he got some more ticket sales by pointing out he was a former OLW Trios Tag Champion, but it didn’t seem to matter to him, because he wasn’t in it for the paydays so much as--]

 

“Hey, Ryan.”

 

[His head jerked up, meeting eye-to-eye with the masked Saguaro Kid, the man who invited him to tour with the Colossus Wrestling Federation and its merry band of grizzled veterans dreaming of a big break, starry-eyed wrestlers, both American and Mexican, trying to get noticed, and the occasional journeyman.]

 

Ryan:

‘Sup, Kid?

 

Saguaro Kid:

Mitch Wilder’s goin' out there in five minutes, he’s gonna rag on the immigrant crowd, try to get a rise out of them.  If you wanna be their hero, there’s your best shot, dude.

 

[Ryan smiled and nodded, looking down at the floor.]

 

Ryan:

A hero, huh.  Hope my Spanish is still up to snuff.  Don’t wanna come off as pandering to them by saying “Viva la raza” or whatever stuff.  They’ll see through my white ass.

 

[A chuckle escaped his lips.]

 

Saguaro Kid:

Jus' wanted to get you in the know, brotha.  It’s all up to you.

 

[And with that, the Kid left as quietly as he’d arrived, leaving Ryan all by his lonesome.  He stood up and got his game face on, so to speak, and marched out of the dressing room.]

 

--------------------------------------------

 

[The tapping of a steel-tipped cane cues a fade from black.]

 

[And just like that, we’re face-to-face with the trio known as the Philosopher Kings.  Eddie Dante, as one would expect, is dressed to the nines and wrapping his hands snuggly around that cane.  The Jersey Devil, Troy Matthews, is dressed in pretty standard jeans and T-shirt, his signature New Jersey Devils hat covering his green hair, and one of his arms is wrapped comfortably around the waist of Saori Kazama.

 

And Mushigihara, the Sumo Beast, towers over all of them.]

 

Eddie Dante:

We threw down the gauntlet, and now the Philosopher Kings will face those who picked it up in the fitting venue of New Orleans, the very Hellfire Club of many a member of the Southern aristocracy.  Mardi Gras may have come and gone, but I anticipate that we, the Philosopher Kings, will have quite a bit to celebrate.

 

[Dante grins, as Troy joins in.]

 

Troy Matthews:

So Eddie, Saori, and I were tryin’ to recover from shaking off the rookie jitters from Retaliation, and once we found out we were doing battle with Mike Sloan’s boys, we got to doing some research on ‘em and find out that Curtis Penn was a part of CHIMERA Fight Team, who I remember doing battle with some time ago in the old WWA.  My memory’s a little hazy of those days, but I remember him being a really great mat wrestler.

 

Saori Kazama:

A Division One college wrestler, at that.  And an aspiring mixed martial artist.

 

[Eddie gives a loud, dismissive snort.]

 

Eddie:

A mixed martial artist!  MMA in professional wrestling is like oil and water!  They don’t mix!

 

Saori:

Actually, Eddie, if you know your wrestling history...

 

[Troy turns his head to his woman and stops her short.]

 

Troy:

Don’t, babe.  You know how Eddie gets...

 

Eddie:

What’s next?!  The Miami Heat squaring off with the Harlem Globetrotters?!

 

[Troy himself turns his head to the camera, dumbfounded.]

 

Troy:

Wait a second...

 

Eddie:

Rounds, limits on what you can do to your opponent on the ground... pish posh.  MMA’s great if you’re in a confined area, one on one, with a break every five minutes.  In a wrestling ring, with three people on the other side willing to do whatever it takes to defeat you?  Not so much.

 

[Eddie nods.]

 

Eddie:

Though I suppose his saving grace is his collegiate wrestling skill.  But that doesn’t mean he’s in the clear, even with a well-rounded competitor like Tyson Burke and a mammoth like Luke Windham in his corner.  Troy, I know you’re excited about fighting the big fellow.

 

Troy:

That I am, Eddie, and really, Curtis Penn could be a part of the Mike Sloan Experience, the Mike Sloan Extravaganza, or even the Mike Sloan Memorial 49th Annual Spring Carnival and Spaghetti Jamboroo for all I give a damn, because Mushi, you, and I have a LOT to prove.

 

We’re going to prove that we’re not just a bunch of also-rans swaddled up into the trios division.

 

We’re going to prove that yes, we have our place in DEFIANCE.

 

We’re going to prove that the Philosopher Kings are more than just a catchy name.

 

Tell ‘em, Mushi.

 

[Mushigihara thrusts his arms up, and snaps them back down to chest-level, balling his fists all the while.]

 

Mushigihara:

OSU!

 

[Eddie nods and grins.]

 

Eddie:

New Orleans, Louisiana, HOME of DEFIANCE Wrestling.  The Philosopher Kings, in the company’s own backyard, will prove their mettle by defeating world-caliber athletes... with mind and body.  See you then, friends.

 

[The camera fades out.]

 

--------------------------------------------

 

"They LOVED you, dude!"

 

[The Knights of Columbus Hall, Covina, California.]

 

[Saturday, August 15, 2009.]

 

[Ryan Andrews was chilling with the Saguaro Kid after the CWF show.  The crowd seemed to be winding down in the actual arena area, but Kid and Ryan were getting dressed in civilian garb.]

 

Ryan:

Whodathunkit?  I knew Mexican fans loved wrestling, but that... that was something else entirely.

 

Saguaro Kid:

You're their hero, man.  When you started talkin' in Spanish, I could feel it; they thought you was one of their own.  Heh, hope you wasn't plannin' on sneakin' out quietly, 'cause half that crowd's waiting for you.

 

[Ryan just smiled as Kid nodded and walked away.  It seemed like he'd found a niche here in California, and a new group of loyal fans.  It felt good to be a hero, for a change.]

 

"Excuse, me, are you Ryan Andrews?" a voice spoke out in clear English, without the slightest hint of accent.

 

[His head snapped up, this time to eye-level with a thin, middle-aged looking man of Hispanic background.]

 

Ryan:

Who wants to know?

 

"My name is Edgar Martinez.  I'm the American liason for a promotion in Mexico called Revelucion Mundial de Lucha Libre... well, World Wrestling Revolution."

 

Ryan:

Yeah, and?

 

"Our promoter, Marco Quinones, was in attendance tonight.  He believes you could become Mexico's next great wrestling superstar."

 

[And with that, Ryan seemed to lose all concept of time, hanging in that moment for what felt like forever.]