The Hammer Chronicles: Redemption

I awakened abruptly to my motel phone ringing. I evaluated the possibility that it was a dream, decided to give it five seconds in case it was, and, upon the awful realization that it was, in fact, morning, picked up.

‘Whuh,’ was all I could manage.

‘Good morning Dan!’ came the irritatingly-chipper voice of my manager, Sam. I miss when he was an introvert. ‘Just letting you know, we’ve gotta be on the road in forty-five minutes, and I’m assuming you still need to shower?’

I groaned, taking stock of my situation. Yep, I was still in my ring gear from the previous night; the accelerated HVW schedule, along with the surprisingly frequent beatdowns, was beginning to take its toll on me. I vaguely recalled staggering into my motel room and falling directly on the bed, just wanting to rest for a few minutes before I showered and got into sleepwear and…

Urgh. Everything hurt.

I peeled off my ring gear, popped three ibuprofen, and turned the shower as hot it would go. Then, after learning that apparently the good folks of the Gonzales, Texas Motel 6 had sprung for a rather powerful water heater, I lowered the shower to about 70% as hot as it would go.

The hot-but-no-longer-resembling-lava water cascaded over my aching muscles. Old injuries and new began to feel slightly less painful; the bruised rib from one of Reaper’s numerous kicks last night still ached, but the water and the ibuprofen had a positive effect. By the time I emerged, steam billowing around me and obscuring the mirror, I felt almost human.

God… this was so much less exhausting the last time around.

And I didn’t exactly remember my last outing as World Champion being a picnic.

My schedule with CWF had been a little less heavy on the title defenses; I’d never had to do four in ten days before. Of course, CWF had been a bigger organization with more of a media infrastructure; HVW was growing rapidly, but we were still – this upcoming show notwithstanding – mostly doing high school gyms in small towns rather than selling out major arenas. But in some ways, that made things more intense. Despite their animosity, the Sheriff and the Hacker were in sync on one idea – they wanted to make HVW huge. And they were succeeding; I don’t think anyone had really foreseen how fast this federation would grow. To think that Crown of Legends would be so massive an event as to go over three nights – even WrestleFest hadn’t managed that.

And it was quite a main event that had come together. The World Champion, the woman he initially beat for the title, the man who beat him for the title… and of course, the wild card of Christopher $aint James.

Yeah… Hostile Takeover was likely to be a problem. In theory, the Regulators could be as well, but they seemed to be dedicated mostly to keeping things in line with the rules. Hopefully that wasn’t just them lulling me into a false sense of security and preparing to cheat a Collins victory.

… nah. I may have a grudge against Lex for blemishing my record, but he was an honest fellow.

I threw my ring gear into a laundry bag and dressed in… well, okay, it resembled my ring gear of black pants and a black tank-top, but it was a different fabric!

… I may have an Aesthetic.

I hadn’t done much in the way of unpacking; a toiletries bag, some protein powder in a Ziploc, a large bag of trail mix. All of those were slung into my duffel, and my duffel was slung over my shoulder, and I departed my motel room, slipping a ten-dollar bill for the cleaners onto the nightstand.

Tip your service workers, folks!

Sam was waiting by the car with a double-espresso in hand. He looked at his watch as I emerged, and I felt perhaps more smug than was justified to see his eyebrows raise up.

‘Expecting more fuss?’ I asked.

‘I mean, given your monosyllabic responses this morning…’

‘Okay, so I’m tired,’ I said, ‘but c’mon, we’ve got places to be.’

He looked contemplative. ‘You know… this is so much easier this time around.’

I barked a short laugh, causing a couple emerging fully dressed from a nearby room and heading for separate cars to whip their heads around. Sam looked at me. ‘What?’ he asked.

‘I was just thinking how much harder it is this time around!’

Sam chuckled. ‘Well… you’re taking it more seriously than you used to, I guess it’s not surprising that you’re feeling it more.’

‘And I thought I took it plenty seriously last time around…’

‘Well,’ he said, ‘you were younger, and more into partying. Even after that big of a match, I imagine you would’ve still wanted to hit the bars and code it as “unstructured fan interaction”.’

I chuckled at the memory. I had thought I was so clever, coming up with that one. ‘Please tell me you penciled in time for breakfast.’

‘Please,’ he said. ‘The time we lose having breakfast, we make up for by not dealing with your complaints about not having breakfast.’ There was a beat. ‘Plus, if I plan it in advance, it’s a great marketing opportunity – Breakfast with the Champ!’

‘Oh God,’ I groaned, ‘tell me you didn’t leak my breakfast plans to Reddit again.’ Sam took a sip of his cappuccino to avoid answering. ‘Dude!’

‘Look,’ he said, ‘do you want to grow the federation or not?

‘I want to be able to eat my scrambled eggs and oatmeal before they get cold!’

‘Which is why,’ he said patiently, ‘we’re going to do one event at the McDonalds, where you’ll have a mostly-cold Sausage McMuffin before going to Denny’s for your actual breakfast.’

I sighed. ‘Cali’s off in Savannah visiting MJ and Kevin. You just know that her breakfast is going to be nicer than that.’

‘Think of the fed, Dan,’ was all he had to say.

One double espresso was not enough to craft the necessary pun between “fed-the-state-I-wish-I-was-in-after-a-nice-Cajun-breakfast” and “fed-the-shorthand-for-federation,” so I abandoned the attempt. I might have had a chance after the cup of scalding brown slurry that McDonald’s called “coffee”, but the combination of interactions with surprisingly eager (for 7 in the morning) fans, and the prospect of a Grand Slam (so sue me, I got hungry!) put rhetorically one-upping my manager completely out of my mind.

I was disappointed but unsurprised to see Sam pull out a binder once our orders had been taken. He had always been a fan of time optimization, but had been doubly so on this go-around. Now, not even breakfast was sacred.

‘So,’ he said. ‘You know how you’re an absolute badass who’s only lost one singles match this year?’

I was midway through a sip of Coke Zero and stopped drinking as he spoke. ‘Whuf?’ I said, my mouth full of pancakes and cola.

‘… and how you went through four title matches in ten days, including two within three days of each other?’

I growled under my breath.

‘Well, I thought… why not try and beat that record?’

Now I was openly growling.

‘Now, we’re not going to make you defend it twice in that amount of time…’ he said, not withering under my glower. ‘… but I did kind of sign you up for an exhibition match on Night One of Crown of Legends.’

‘… against who?’ I said flatly.

‘Erm…’ Sam finally hesitated a little under the power of my glare. ‘… the Ripper.’

‘Are you fucking kidding me!’ I roared, drawing consternation from the people around me, with one woman clapping her hands over the ears of her delighted-looking seven-year-old. ‘Sorry,’ I said to the masses. Then, back to Sam in a lower voice, ‘Are you fucking kidding me?’

‘I thought you’d be more enthusiastic!’

‘You’re making me fight one of my oldest rivals – a man I’ve never actually beaten, by the way! – who just happens to be CWF’s World Champion… right before a massive title defense!’

‘I thought you’d be happy,’ he said defensively.

‘Why?!’ I exclaimed. ‘What’s the upside?’

‘It’s a great interpromotional match, and if you win it’ll really put HVW on the -’

‘I meant for me!’ I hissed.

‘Well – ’ he said. ‘I mean, if you win both matches then you look like one of the biggest badasses in wrestling history…’

‘And if I end up losing to Ripper – and I’ll reiterate, I’ve never beaten Ripper! – and wearing myself out and losing to Page or James or Collins, I’ll look like one of the biggest dumbasses in wrestling history!’ I took a calming swig of Coke Zero. ‘Or at least my manager will!’

‘Cali beat Ripper two weeks ago,’ he said, the hint of a whine audible in his voice.

‘Which means he’ll be itching revenge on any convenient member of my family!’ I said. ‘Hell, Eris should probably be careful! Seriously, dude, did you give this any thought?’

‘I did!’

‘And?!’

He looked sad. ‘I chose to believe in you.’

… ouch.

‘But look,’ he continued, ‘if you really don’t think you can pull it off, I can maybe try and…’

God dammit, he’s gotten better at pushing my buttons… ‘No…’ I sighed. ‘Look, it’d look bad if we pulled out now, and I’m sure you had to work hard to set the Ripper match up…’

‘I guess I’m surprised you’re this… unconfident,’ he said, taking a sip of his coffee. ‘I wasn’t just blowing smoke up your ass when I said you were an absolute badass. You’ve carved a swath through HVW, and you’ve faced worse odds than this.’

‘Yeah…’ I said, taking a few contemplative forkfuls of bacon. ‘I guess… look, I’m not gonna lie, losing to Collins over at UPRISING – even if there are excuses to be made – look, it rattled me a little.’

Sam laughed. ‘One loss in… what, two and a half months, and you’re doubting yourself?’

‘It was a clean loss! And what can I say, you go that many matches in a row winning, you feel it more. I’d already been kinda worried about Crown of Legends – there’s three legitimate badasses in the match with me – and then you kinda surprised me by throwing me against one of the bigger badasses I’ve ever fought.’

Sam nodded, but didn’t say anything. We returned to our breakfast, and I added a little bit more maple syrup to what remained of my pancakes. ‘You know,’ I mused after a few minutes, ‘maybe this is for the best.’

‘Oh?’

‘My loss to Ripper all those years ago has kind of been a red mark in my proverbial ledger. I know how much better Cali felt after paying off her loss… who knows, maybe it’ll be good for me too.’

‘… so does this mean that you’ll be okay with using the studio time I booked to do a quick promo?’

 

 

We cut to Dan Highlander, standing in a spotlight in his ring gear. He speaks.

And so it comes full circle.

He smirks.

It’s been a long damn time since you and I fought, Ripper. Must be… my God, fourteen years!

He looks contemplative, running a hand through his hair.

What a different fucking world it was back in 2012. Everyone thought the world was going to end because of that “Mayan Prophecy,” CWF had rid itself of the plague known as Weapon-X, and Donald Trump was “the guy from The Apprentice”.

Looking directly into the camera, he smirks again.

Highlander: And you and I both thought we were at the height of our careers. A showdown for the ages, we thought…

A deep sigh.

I had no business being in that match. Even if I had been medically cleared, my mind wasn’t where it was supposed to be. I’m not making excuses – I agreed to it, and that was that. But… it’s been eating at the back of my mind all these fourteen years. I had one of the biggest matches of my career… and I lost. Decisively.

Highlander looks down, then back at the camera.

I was able to get some vicarious revenge by watching Caledonia pin you in the middle of the ring… but what kind of warrior would I be, if I let someone else, even my wife, fight my battles for me?

No, Ripper… this is my chance. My best chance, and God knows maybe my last, to prove that I can get it done against you. After all… I don’t think either one of us has another fourteen years left in the tank!

He chuckles, but his face quickly becomes serious again.

It is the question, isn’t it? Can I get it done? After all, you’ve been on a tear lately – took out Gordy King, and you and I both know that’s no mean feat.

Yes, you’ve been on quite the run…

… but so have I.

Highlander’s face hardens.

Thirteen matches. Thirteen victories. One loss, yes… avenged within mere days. HVW is throwing everything they have at me, and yet I’m still standing. More than standing; even fourteen years from now, when I’m long retired, the youngsters of HVW will still speak reverently of this federation’s first World Champion, of Dan “The Hammer” Highlander, who fought and bled week after week but always emerged victorious. Who took everything that Hostile Takeover and the Regulators and Danielle Page could give – and who still stood triumphant.

And maybe, just maybe… they’ll tell the tale of how he did it only two days after vanquishing one of his longest-running rivals, in a clash of World Champions.

You’ve had a good few months, Ripper… Golden Intentions, and on to WrestleFest and the World Championship.

But when I said that I thought 2012 was the pinnacle of my career…

… I was wrong.  

Highlander draws himself to his full height, cold fury beginning to radiate from his eyes.

Ripper, you no longer face a Dan Highlander six months removed from a shot through the heart. You face Dan Highlander, Heroes and Villains Wrestling World Champion. You face Dan Highlander, the man who fought five matches in two weeks and still emerged the World Champion. You face Dan Highlander, the man whose championship reign will set the bar for HVW for years to come.

He points directly into the camera.

You face Dan Highlander, the man who has waited fourteen years to avenge the loss you dealt me at Convergence.

You face me as a fellow World Champion.

You face me as a fellow Hall of Famer.

You face me ready.

I’ll see you in the ring, Ripper. Let’s settle this.

Fade.