“Finally, major success! Petya has convinced the boss to finally let us purge ourselves of the American filth,” Petya slammed his furry knuckles down onto the table. The phone screen still lit up from the phone conversation with Dmitri, the shady Russian oligarch that took tap dancing lessons with none other than Vladimir Putin.
“What are you blathering about?” Natalya looked up from her Cosmopolitan magazine, deciding to trade it for her cup of strong tea. She crossed her black nylon gowned legs.
“I mean, Petya has convinced the boss’s boss to finally purge the American filth!”
“I wouldn’t go as far as to call the burly American man filth. Petya, it’s the twenty-first century, racism is no longer in style. We’re an equal opportunity employer. And additionally, I very much like the man, he’s big, strong, and a complete delight to work with,” Natalya argued.
Petya started to sweat. He dabbed his head with his pocket square. Damn these suits. The demotion that came when Natalya arrived to assume control over the operation hurt Petya’s feelings as he believed he was best buds with Dmitri. He found out that it was a one-way street. And the damn woman made the cut run deeper when she demanded a dress code. He had spent too long aboard, free of such constraining linen strangulation that was the full-dress suit. They weren’t built for big men like him.
“I’m obviously talking about the black man.”
“Oh, for a second, Petya though you had hit your head and mistakenly fell in love with that jackass,” Petya released a sigh of the utmost relief. He could breathe again and rest easy knowing that she hadn’t made the same mistake as Dmitri years prior when he took interest in the conman. “I too like the black man. He is very considerate. Philosophical, deep conversations are plenty when you get to know him. Then we are in agreement, when Petya speaks of American filth, he referring to, what do you call it, the bald dickhead.”
“Still, Anastasia seemed to have grown fond of the man.”
“She is not a concern, boss. She will soon forget him. After all, we’ll keep Bison around and we all know she lust after him.”
“Despite his abnormalities, she seems to enjoy filming with him,” Natalya confirmed. She slurped a long, deep hot sip from her teacup. Despite his initial reluctance, they finally convinced Bison to step in for some scenes instead of the wrinkled old ball and sack. Of course, they had to take certain angles to hide his only weakness, but other than that, it was a success. With the shift in direction, they had to upgrade their video camera to record the highest definition. Women wanted 4K. They wanted high contrasts. They wanted filters. They wanted tenderness and a hit of lens glare. She envisioned herself as the JJ Abrahams of erotica. That’s right, erotica. They’re not porn, they’re erotica! They’re not stars or actors, but lovers!
“He has a big tongue. That has to be his secret!”
“I think you’re right. But it’s more about his methodical nature, the circular motion, the steadiness. I’m sometimes mesmerized by his work.”
“For someone as big as ox, he is graceful as a swan.”
“He’s our Black Swan.”
“Our golden goose!”
“So what do we do with the other one? Dmitri never cuts anyone looser. Either you with us or you’re dead,” Natalya required. She might have seemed like an exception, but the reason she circled back to his employment was because she knew, sooner or later, Dmitri would have placed a hit on her head. Probably sooner than she thought, now knowing that Adam was on borrowed time.
“We kill him.”
“Not surprised.”
“Well, the tricky part is that we must make it look natural. Myself, Dmitri, and soon to be yourself will have taken life insurance policies on the man. Finally, in death, the man will be more of value to us.”
“Oh?”
“And what would be more natural than that sorry sack of shit to die from overindulgence,” Petya concluded. Of course, that was the most logical strategy. Adam was an alcoholic. He had taken to vodka, mainly because Petya convinced the American of the greatness of the spirit. Too much vodka would kill a man. Accidental death. “Genius, no?”
“I don’t think this is a good idea.”
“Don’t worry! In the motherland, we do this all the time!”
Adam did what any recently crowned champion would do. He decided to throw himself an epic party. Not just any epic party, because that was the typical Saturday night at the Golden Boys compound, but a truly legendary party that’ll put all the Greaternity bashes to shame. He made calls. Lots of them. That’s right, every available escort in Upstate New York was booked for this momentous event, ranging from the upscale playthings of Albany’s political elite to the garden variety sloots of Buffalo. Of course, understanding now that he had secured his future for the time being with his keepers, he brazenly chalked up thousands upon thousands of dollars on the studio’s balance sheet. They weren’t going to off him now. Not when his plan finally showed promise. They trusted him now. They knew he was valuable.
In other words… He was golden!
To his surprise, rolling up to his property in his beat-up Volkswagen, still showing the dings of his last accident, he spotted a long still procession of vehicles on the side of the work. In the night, strobe lights shot out, a rainbow of colorful beams danced along the stars. Murmuring groups of nomads holding red solo cups roam his expansive front lawn. Behind the house, roaring bon fires dotted where the corn field once was. Distracted by the spectacle, Adam almost ran over someone again, this time two younglings scurrying across the backcountry road. They were probably legal age to fuck, but not to drink. Maybe he’ll rob the cradle. Wasted money maybe, given the whores he paid, but he was wanting to suck their youthful energy by robbing them of their innocence. The bass of the DJ’s drops vibrated the metal trim of Adam’s call, radiating all the way in, trickling his swollen prostate. Damn, why stop at cradle snatching, after he’s done with those college kids, he’ll start picking off the herd of lustful bitches, and finish the night in the comforting arms of one of the more voluptuous paid help.
Finally, the respect he deserved! Petya and Bison removed the pylons obstructing the driveway. The moment Adam exited the vehicle, the gang greeted him, popping champagne bottles and spraying him with foams. Adam won the equivalent of the Daytona 500. They really liked him! He dragged a knuckle across his eyelid to wipe away a solitary tear. He hugged everyone he could get his arms around. Hovering around the ladies to take in their scent. Cigarette smoke clung to Anastasia. Coconut for Natalya. He didn’t need to sniff to know Petya hadn’t showered for days. He turned towards the congregation in the yard. To his horror, most weren’t watching his hero’s welcome. They clapped their applause while awkwardly holding their cups, but most kept their eyes on their group members, engaging in their unimportant conversations. They were ignorant. They didn’t know who he was. They were only here because of the promise of free booze and music. Then again, Adam realized he had no right to complain; he used crash weddings with Shawn Winters back in the day.
“Here! To the new champion! Petya salutes you!” Petya handed Adam a shot glass. He smelt the potent vodka. “Imported right from the motherland! The very best for my friend! The most expensive vodka out of Moscow!”
“You honor me, sir,” Petya’s affection made Adam forget about the lackluster crowd and the man’s body odor. He kicked back the shot, noticing the scorching burn that proceeded to take a Sherman’s March to the Stomach. It tasted awful. No different than the usual swell but had to be better. Petya might have been an asshole, but he never would lie on such important, heartfelt matters. Adam smiled to be polite.
“Good?”
“The best!”
“Let Petya pour you another!” Petya handed him another shot glass. No pouring involved, he had it already ready to go. Adam held up the shot glass. With his free hand, he wrestled his lighter from his pocket and set the vodka aflame. Petya eyed him expectantly. Fuck, Adam already managed one, he could do another! He shot back the flaming shot but couldn’t tell any difference from this burn from the one prior.
“No more for right now, Petya. I need to pace myself. I have grandiose plans for this evening.”
“Adam! DARLING!” Anastasia basically lassoed him with her slender arms. She pelted his neck with quick kisses. She paused to nibble on his ear, damn knowing that was his ignition. She then handed him a flute. “Very pricey champagne! Only more perfect to toast to your big success!”
“Damn right!” Adam clinked his glass against hers and started to drink the bubbly. Anastasia reached up, keeping the glass tilted to force Adam to finish the drink in one go. Once lowered, the gang had gathered around him again, clapping and laughing. They were all festive! All happy! They loved him now more than ever! This was shaping up to be one of the best nights of his life! Never have he felt so triumphant! So important!
“Ohhhh, Adam… Adaaam,” Natalya broached the ensuring pause in acclaim. She hooked his arm with hers. With a glint in her brilliant blue eyes, Adam remembered why he had fallen in love with her all those years prior. “I think it’s long overdue that we catch up. Reminisce on good times, no?”
“After you, my dear!”
“Here, taste this wine. It’s imported from Barcelona and it’s to die for.” Natalya handed him a glass. He tasted. Dry to perfection. Notes of blueberries even. Trying to return the glass to her, she raised another, signaling her intent. “You wouldn’t leave a woman to drink alone?”
“Alright, but I’m telling you all, I’m pacing myself.”
They turned indoors. His entire house packed so many warm bodies that the humidity inside the house reminded Adam of Floridian summertime swamps. This was his scene. Natalya scooted people from the large leather coach in the living room, facing the rear bank of windows. From there, they see the bonfires that dotted the back half of the property. He slid his arm immediately around her and faced no resistance from Natalya. He accepted the fact that he finally impressed her. She saw him in a brand new light. Success tended to have that effect on women. It was something embedded in their genetic code, programming them to look for the mate that could support her and her offspring the most. Funny tho, one minute they avoid you, detecting the filth of failure on your person, then the next you have to keep them at bay with a stick when you become a winner. Her hand danced across his thigh, taking a detour to rub his package. Her hand eventually traveled north, taking his chin and turning it to stare into her lustful eyes. All the whores and coeds evaporated from his consciousness. All that mattered to Adam that night was the conquest of Natalya, eight years overdue.
“Here, Adam. Water!” Petya intercepted Adam as he stumbled towards the bathroom. He forced a red solo cup in Adam’s hand. Wasn’t a bad idea. He had to slow down. Adam nodded his thanks, immediately gulped the clear liquid. He spat out the rest.
“Hey asshole! This is vodka!”
“My mistake, that was my cup. Here, try this!” Petya handed him another cup. Again, Adam drank eagerly. Again, Adam sprayed the rest out onto Petya’s boots. “What? Oh, silly me! Petya must have confused water with vodka! Common mistake in Russia!”
“Here, Adam, hydration!” Natalya handed Adam a blue solo cup while he wandered the house in a fuzzy haze. Adam’s lips curled up to grin towards Natalya. He remembered the good foreplay they shared earlier in the evening. The night’s speed started to accelerate, going to crash into a raucous crescendo, a climax arriving when Adam sank his manhood into her. She wanted it too! He just knew! So she had reason to keep him hydrated, to avoid whiskey dick. So, he downed the liquid, spat it out onto the floor, and glared at her? “What’s wrong? Do we have bad water here?”
“It’s vodka!”
“No, it’s water! Your taste buds must be confused!”
“It’s definitely vodka.” Adam whipped out his handy dandy zippo lighter. He set the cup aflame before dropping it onto the tiled floor.
“Oh, foolish me! I must have confused water with vodka. They look so alike. This happens all the time in Russia!”
“Surrrrrreeeee.”
“This must be the right cup.”
Adam held up the cup. He lowered the lighter’s flame onto the surface. He dropped that fiery cup again. Bison barreled into the room with a fire extinguisher, causing panic and mayhem as he killed the fire spreading on the floor.
“DARLING! I’m told you are very drunk. Have some water,” Anastasia called out to him. Adam didn’t know exactly here he was and what was happening. But he faintly recalled the earlier pranks by the Russians. So he sniffed the cup. It didn’t smell like lighter fluid. He sipped the content. It didn’t taste like vodka. Anastasia fluttered her thick eye lashes towards him. She grew to care for him, even before the recent success. He could trust her. He drank the entire cupo in one go.
Everything was spinning. He decided to venture outdoors.
“What the hell happened?” Bison questioned.
“That old creep came at us! He shouted gibberish, waving his arms. He tried to grab my arm but fell on his face instead.” The two teens huddled together, frightened by the drunk aggression of a middle aged man. Adam laid there, lifeless. He snored, so Bison knew he wasn’t dead yet.
“I’ll handle this here ladies. It’s getting real late, your parents must be worried sick about you two. I can call a uber if you need one.” Bison stepped in between the women and the hosed man. They looked at each other, waved off his offering and fled the scene. Bison knelt down next to his unconscious tag team partner. “Damn, Adam, you’re a mess!”
“Aggrrrhhhh, make the merry go round stop,” Adam called out. He rolled over on his back. Bison struggled to translate his speech with all the thick slurring. Bison made out the next complaint easily though: “I don’t feel good.”
“Damn, you’re not looking good. You’re pale! How much did you have? Idiot, are you trying to drink yourself to death!”
“I drank mostly water!”
“Water, huh?”
“H20! Water!”
“You smell like cough medicine, fool. Let’s get you inside and get you some of the real H20.” Bison tossed the limp body over his shoulder and carried the ungrateful sack of potatoes all the way inside, to the second-floor master bathroom. With a lone roar, he cleared out the gossiping ladies occupying the space despite their protest. He rinsed out a solo cup, filled it with water.
Adam squinted his eyes at the cup before knocking it out of Bison’s hands. “You’re trying to trick me. That’s not water!”
“Look, I got it straight from the facet!” Bison refilled the cup. Again, Adam slapped the cup onto the floor. “Damn it, right from the facet!”
“No, it’s vodka! Everything’s vodka!” Adam sprung to life. He wielded his lighter. He turned on the facet and brough the flame to the stream. Adam embraced himself for the resulting fireball, such as one you saw in those anti-fracking videos! Instead, the lighter slipped from his hands and drowned in the sink.
“You’re out of your mind,” Bison said. He turned back towards the man. Adam tittered on his feet, snoring gain, eyes closed. The fucker passed out standing up. Bison caught Adam before he tumbled down onto the floor. Bison theorized Adam might have alcohol poisoning. Hell, they might not have the time. “You better thank me later for this, asshole.”
Bison proceeded to kick the door close. He placed Adam, hanging his head over the toilet seat. He took his thumb, cursing his existence while shoving it down Adam’s throat. Adam immediately gagged. Vomit coated the bowl. He continued to purge his body until only bile came up. Then came the water. In a process that seemed to take antagonizing eternity, Bison cycled between feeding Adam water and watching him throw it back up. Finally, Adam became more alert and responsive.
“Bison, you’re tricking me, aren’t you? You’re a tricky dick.”
“I hate you,” Bison dropped Adam onto the bathroom floor. He flushed the foul potion in the toilet. He returned to the room with a blanket and pillow. Setting Adam on his side, facing the toilet in case he had to throw up again, Bison left him there. “I deserve some mother fucking respect around here.”
He’d double check on Adam before he turned in for the night, to assure the man was still breathing. First, he had to clear the partygoers out of the compound. He already knew he was going to have to call in a cleaning service to fix this place up right. Tonight had been too crazy. Too much debauchery. Too much money wasted on stupid shit like alcohol, drugs, and hawiaan pizza. None of these asholes cared about Adam or his title win. Fuck no, they only cared about free drinks and food. They didn’t respect the hour nor the man.
“Good morning, Vietnam!” Adam waved from the bottom of the stairwell. The Russian delegation sat on the large leather couch. Their animate discussion halted when they spotted Adam. Natalya’s and Petya’s jaws dropped. They look as if they saw a ghost. Pale. They really needed to get some more sun. Adam waved them off, his throbbing headache made him unwilling to know what their malfunction was. Instead, he entered the kitchen, poured himself a glass of ice water. He fought the odd instinct to light the water with his lighter. Speaking of which, where did he put his lighter? Must had fallen out somewhere during the course of his crazy night.
Back in the other room, Petya and Natalya finally recovered from their shock. “Petya swore he gave Adam all the vodka!”
“I fed him wine all night.”
“I even had Anastasia trick him with vodka. How is the man alive?!” Petya shook his head in disbelief. He thought his plan had been perfect, a certain way to kill the man, but he had obviously underestimated Adam’s liver. This somehow made Petya slightly proud. The man could hold his liquor. Never again would he believe in the stereotype that Americans were pussies when drinking.
“I have a new plan.”
“I’m all ears.”
“Plug your ears, Annie. Adults are talking business now,” Natalya ordered. Anastasia rolled her doll eyes but stuck her things into her eyes. She even started humming. But still, she tried her hardest to listen in. She might allow Natlaya to believe she was in control, but not for long. The bitch competed for Anastasia’s spot as queen bee of the hive. Everything was a lot simpler, a lot better before Natalya came in as the new director. The videos were also a lot more mundane. A lot less rough. And while she will always cherish Bison, he wasn’t enough man for her.
“Tell Petya your great plan.”
“Quiet. Not so loud. He might hear us.”
“Quiet.”
“Not only do we get him very drunk again, but this time we lure him out into the woods. The temperature is supposed to plummet tonight. far below freezing. It’s very easy to get the clothes off him.”
“We freeze him to death? Good idea!”
“What are the three of you planning? Huh?” Adam asked when he entered the room again. They all jumped. Anastasia only jumped because the two besides her did so. Adam wasn’t stupid. He knew they were keeping a secret. Oh, he knew now what they were planning. A few weeks ago, they missed his birthday because the Golden Boys had some dates. That had to be it! They cared about him so much now, they were going to throw him a belated birthday bash! Adam forgot how great being accepted was. He hadn’t felt so complete since the Greaternity days. He wiped a single tear from his eyes. This stuff always made him so sentimental. They were almost a family now. See what marvels success produced? This time, he gained more than a belt, he gained a family.
“— I don’t know, Nattie. It’s cold out here. I drank too much again. I just don’t think little Gorbachev is going to get up and play,” Adam warned her. Natalya led him by the hand through the dark woods on his property’s edge. The strong wind’s howl almost drowned out his protest. She claimed she wanted privacy from others but that only confused Adam. He had a lock on the door to the master bedroom. The guestlist had been minimal, not a single escort or stripper were hired. They didn’t even bake him a cake and sang him a song. But he didn’t really care about that. Natalya was his cake. Besides, he doubted Russians celebrate birthdays. She obviously wanted to make up for the missed opportunity the night prior. He decided to pace himself for realsies this time, but everyone kept feeding him drinks again. He should have learned his lesson, but you can’t teach an old dog new tricks. Plus everyone seemed to be having a grand ol’ time so he didn’t want to bring down the mood. Bison was the only exception of course. The man was a real buzzkill. The big man whined all day about the disarray the big celebration had left the house. Talk about lame. Bison never knew how to really live.
“Oh, I’m confident that we can get your friend up. You’re a real man, aren’t you? Always ready to go,” Natalya brought Adam. She immediately proceeded to nibble on his ear, a trick she must have learned from Anastasia. She paused, dispensing her hot breath onto his neck. She started to pepper his neck with kisses, before running up his jawline and then flirting about his lips. She recoiled though at his bad breath, which carried the stench of nail polish remover. He drank a lot again, but to the Russian’s amazement, he stayed conscious throughout the night’s proceedings.
“You really know how to rev up my engineer, baby. I’m a big red fucking machine, ready to explode,” Adam said. He demonstrated his will with some pelvic thrusting. Natalya forced a laugh, now dropping to her knees. She unbuckled his belt, dropped his pants. Yep, he had found the spirit to become aroused. But while he found solace that he had more than a limp biscuit, she struggled in a way that many parents did with the toddler when undressing. She had to lift him up on leg, struggling to remove the pants from it. Then the other. He staggered, almost looking like he might fall over but he managed to find his balance by placing a hand atop her skull.
He pressed her head towards his crotch but she ended up with her cheeks pushed against his thigh. She knew his intent. Many men have treated her the same. They wanted to skullfuck her into submission, but she had long left that life behind. She finally managed to free the right foot from the pants before popping up. She knocked away his arms. She basically tore the buttons from his jacket before removing it. Next his shirt, but she kept it over his head. That should be enough to expose himself to the elements. She shivered; the wind cut down to the bone. She pranced away with the bundle of his clothes in his hand. She needed to get back to the house to turn off the lights. Then, she knew, he wouldn’t be able to find his way back.
“Where did you go? I miss you so! Oh, playing hide and seek, are we? You little cock tease, you!” Adam shouted, still wrestling with the t-shirt. He tossed the shirt down onto the ground. He tried to make out Natalya’s outline but the clouds overhead blocked out the moon and the trees filtered out the light from the house. He waved his arms, believing she had to be within arm’s reach. He stumbled about in the close vicinity but still nothing. His face buzzed with drunkenness. The cold flared up on his cheeks. Everything grew suddenly darker. “This isn’t funny. I’m not going to keep him up much longer out here without a bit of your bodily warmth!”
Another gust of wind, this one froze him right to his core. Even his rage couldn’t warm his body. Adam found little humor in Natayla’s prank. When he arrived back at the house, he’d make her pay! How? HE didn’t know how? His pickled brain failed to compute complex thought, instead relying on raw bluntforce emotions. He focused on the need to follow the light. Go home. Find warmth. But he no longer saw any light. He went to take a step in a random direction, but his foot became ensnared in the roots of a bush. He fell down hard. He didn’t know what to do. It was so fucking cold. He proceeded to curl up in a bed of dead leaves, trying to contain all his body heat. The alcohol kicked in even more. He knew he had to fight it! He couldn’t pass out here, not on a night like this!
He didn’t know how long he remained on the ground, naked and violently shivering. His teeth chattering loudly, drowning out his thoughts. Suddenly, a branch cracked nearby. Friend? Foe? A light beacon of light shot out onto him. That was it! Salvation! He’d go towards the light! Wait, no, that wasn’t what he wanted, right? His fuzzy thoughts tried to make sense. Everyone said you only saw light at the end of a tunnel when you were passing over to the other side. That meant he was on death’s doorstep. No! He was too young to die! He had a whole life of debauchery ahead of him. So many more women to bed! So many more titles to win! So much more money to earn! But he knew, the light had to be help. The light held warmth. He needed warmth!
After finding his footing, he swam through the brushes and tree branches, letting them scratch his bare body. He used whatever tree trunk he could find to keep himself propped up. The light grew bigger and bigger, before suddenly something seized. Great warmth burrowed in his frozen core. Another human being! He was saved!
“Damn fool, you’re out here without any clothes. What’s wrong with you? You’d die of hypothermia on a night like this!”
“Darling, you must be freezing!” Anastasia exclaimed. She too joined in on the big group hug. Adam wanted to escape. He didn’t want Bison’s bearhug, not when he was bucknaked. Alas he needed the brawny’s man heat. Fuck it, he snuggled his head into Bison’s chest. Bison removed his winter jacket, wrapped the parka around Adam’s nude frame. Adam savored all of his residue heat. Anastasia slipped underneath too, adding her own warmth. They loved him. They cared about him! He owed both so much. This meant a lot to him. He decided from here on out that he was going to treat the man better, with more respect.
“Let’s head indoors,” Bison grumbled.
“This isn’t a trick, is it? You’re not going to lead me out deeper into the woods only to leave me out to do from the cold?”
“Darling, no! We’ve been searchin gift you half the night!”
“Good morning, Vietnam!” Adam called out from the bottom of the stairs. He slept good. He slept heavy. Though he did have the gayest dream, where he pressed his naked body against Bison out there in the woods. He swore there Anastasia joined in, but all he remembered was the big manly embrace he shared with Bison. He woke up next to Anastasia, where she served as the big spoon. He didn’t recall much of the night before. He had once again drank too much. The weekend had gotten out of hand, but that was what typically happens when you win a title. He fought back against his disappointment that it wasn’t Natalya he had bedded the night before.
The Russian management team reclined on the large leather couch again. Their animated discussion halted when they saw Adam emerged from the stairwell. Their jaws dropped in unison. They both gasped in sync. Did they not think he could get up before 10AM? Adam waved them off, his throbbing headache and running nose made him not to figure out what their malfunction was? Instead, he sought heat, placing a tea kettle on the stove. He huddled over the heat of burner while the water reached a boil.
Back in the other room, Petya and Natalya finally recovered. “I swore I left him out in the middle of nowhere last night. Far enough from the house. I took almost all his clothes. He was stupid drunk too. No way he could have found his way home in that condition!”
“I turned in last night, believing you’d succeed! But now, he’s still alive! Our liquor budget is shot!” PEtya groaned. The costs the two past nights incurred had been astronomical. They might start losing money on his scheme.
“I left him out there to die. You have to trust me. This is some kind of miracle!”
“Dmitri!”
“Yes, he’s gonna have us both killed if we don’t finish this!” Natalya screamed at the thug besides him. She stopped herself. He didn’t want to tip off Adam about their intentions. They had to be smart. They couldn’t panic. They both knew the dangers of failing Dmitri. “We’ll come up with a better plan. A fool-proof plan. The man can’t be immortal!”
“How about this? We get him drunk! THEN we lure him out into the woods naked! THEN Petya club him over the head. WHACK!”
“We have to make it look like an accident.”
“Petya will make it look like an accident. We do this all the time back in the motherland.”
“We need a better idea.”
“You’re right! Petya’s impressed at his strength! Not only does he handle his drink, but he can handle the harsh mistress that is winter. Are we sure he’s a soft American capitalist? He seems Soviet built to Petya,” Petya said. He never thought he’d ever praise Adam. But not only did the man possess an iron liver, but he had shown himself to be as tough as bear. He might have now found himself slightly intimidated by the short man, which made it all the more important to kill the bastard.
“Hey, guys! You think the next part we should invite Ali?” Adam’s question interrupted their planning. He held a teacup in his hand. He slurped the hot beverage but that didn’t ward off the sniffles. He hoped he hadn’t caught a cold. He couldn’t let illness kill the momentum he had built. “I mean, I doubt he’d come. He’s still pretty crippled after that nasty hit’n’run— luckily he didn’t die. I hope I never get hit by a car. Anyhow, I guess I miss the pipsqueak! Maybe have him over for dinner instead, no party, just a home cooked meal! He’d like that!”
“I thought you son hated your guts,” Natalya questioned.
“Yeah, but you know, he probably came around after he saw daddy-o win big! I mean you guys have been super nice of me ever since. Don’t think I’m stupid. It’s all because I’m successful. You guys finally see the real value I offer to the team.”
“Don’t lie to your—” Petya started.
But Natalya cut in, “Don’t lie to yourself, Adam! We always knew you had it in you!”
“Yeah, you’re just saying that.” Adam circled back around to re-enter the kitchen. He floated over to the frying pans that hung. He was in such a good mood, he decided to make pancakes for everyone!
“Why the hell are we going for a jog again? We never… ever jog! I thought you hated cardio!” Bison managed between his deep pained breaths.
“Because the boss lady suggested we do this! I think she finally believes in our plan after my big title win! So stop complaining, she’s right, we need to build up some stamina. There’s a lot of speedy little shedevils in our match at Retribution. Us old farts need to keep up,” Adam answered. They both bundled up with full-on sweat suits. In addition, Bison donned a tight black knitted cap and mittens. He started to lag behind, sweating profusely. “Come on now, don’t slow down! Why do you gotta be like this all the time? You’re dead weight, you know? I have to carry you on my shoulder! I have to bail you out every time there’s trouble! If it wasn’t for me, we’d be dead! Thank god, I won the TV title!”
“Man, you’re trippin’!” Bison came to a stop. Hands on knees, he fought for air. “It’s me that is always bailing your sorry ass out!”
“Name one time you’ve saved me! One time you pulled your weight!” Now that he stopped, he too started to feel the fatigue of the run. Plus he still had a slight hangover. Paired with his sinuses, his condition impared his ability to breathe. All of that hit him at once.
“You son of a bitch, I tell you when—,” Bison started. He was gonna rip this man a new one but the roar of an engine interrupted him. They both turned up the road. A car sped down. Everything happened so quick! Bison dove into the ditch on the side of the road. Adam didn’t seem to have anywhere to run, he tried to follow Bison but the car seemed to steer right towards him. Adam stopped. He faced the car. The car collided with Adam. He rolled up over the hood, then the roof, and then down onto the pavement with a thick thud. The car screeched to a stop some way down the road, burning rubber. There the car remained for a moment. Then it peeled out, zooming down the country road to make a getway.
Bison scrambled, scared shirtless about what he just witnessed. Adam had to be dead! Adam withered on the cement before popping up right. He shook his fist at the direction of the fleeing car, frightening Bison in the process. “You fucking kids! First, my son! Now me! I’m going to find you, I’m going to kill you!”
“Adam!?”
Adam stood. He dusted the dirt off his clothes. He stopped though, grabbing for his ribs. “Auggh.”
“How are you alive?”
“Owww. Fuck, I think I broke a rib or two.” He sucked in air, but every time, he reached for his side again. He did this a few times but broke out with a coughing fit. He checked his hand. “No blood. I don’t think I punctured any lungs. Did the fuckers get away?”
“They’re long gone.”
“Probably the same shitstains that did Alistaire in! Probably that fucking scountrel, Blake Mason, now that I think of it. He’s still sore from how I was mean to him on twitter again,” Adam spat in disgust. He hated the Mason clan, not as much as the Cruzes, but still. Adam commenced to limp up the road, in the direction of home. Bison followed him. “Tuck and roll, Bison. Tuck and roll! That’s the key to survival. Ahh, who the hell am I kidding, if they hit you head on, you’d total their car with your fat ass.”
Bison wanted to retort, but found himself speechless. Was Adam secretly the second coming of Bruce Lee? Man, walked off getting hit by a speeding car. What the hell? That’s not natural. No way. That’s not natural at all.
“Darlings, darlings, what’s the occasion?” Anastasia asked innocently as Natalya handed her a champagne.
“We toast! To a new tomorrow! To a long overdue homecoming! Mama, Petya’s heading back to the motherland!” Petya shouted. He giggled uncontrollably, unable to contain the glee he felt. Never had he felt so liberated before, the weight just taken off his shoulders! He had waited so long for this day to come and now it finally came! The bald asshole is dead!
“Beautifully spoken!” Natayla stated. Anastasia’s heart dropped. Did they finally succeed in rubbing out Adam? The only reason any of them were in the United States was because of the man and his scheme. Now that they all seemed to be convinced they’re going home, it must have meant that they accomplished in taking out Adam. She wanted to vomit. She loved America. She loved consumerism. She loved freedom. Back in Russia, she had none of that; instead, Dimitri controlled every aspect of her life.
“And to the Golden Boy becoming the best tag team in the world!” Adam swooped in to take Anastasia’s flute. Natalya’s and Petya’s eyes widened. They couldn’t believe what they saw. Adam downed the champagne and then patted both shocked Russians on the shoulders. “You two are too overwhelmed by excitement, are you? Well, so am I!”
“But how?” Petya mumbled. He searched deeply in his thoughts for an explanation.
“Because I’m that good! I’m the best fucking mind in wrestling, period! I’m prolific. I’m a genius. Takes a lot to bring me down. First, the television title. Next, the tag team championship, but no, we’re not going to stop until I have it all! I’m gonna collect ‘em all!”
“But—,” Natalya approached Adam. She reached out her hand but stopped before touching him. Was this man for real?
“Oh, this?” He pointed towards the scuff mark on his head from the accident. “This is nothing but a flesh wound. Stupid kids and disobeying the speed limit. Always wanting to be somewhere! But you know what, I think we’re going to be okay. Hell, I might have a few cracked ribs but I fought in the worst conditions.”
“I give up,” Natlaya threw up her arms. She left the room. Her undrinken champagne abandoned on the counter.
“Wait, what about the toast?” Adam called out but he then heard a big thud behin him. He turned to find Petya sprawled out on the floor.
“He fainted,” Anastasia explained.
“What a fucking lightweight! I thought all Russians had iron livers and could hold their drink? Now, Petya’s passed out drunk from a little bit of the fizzy,” Adam judged. Adam judged hard. He guessed he always overestimated Petya’s abilities. He always knew that he couldn’t keep up. He knew he had gone shot for shot a few times with the man, but Petya must have had a trick to keep up. No one could keep up with Adam. And Natalya” She probably sexually frustrated at the fact they haven’t cemented the new phase of their relationship with some tender loving care. Either way, Adam knew everything was going to work out.
Bison stepped into the kitchen. Adam handed him Natalya’s champagne. Waste not, want not. He toasted, “As I was saying, to the future best tag team in the world! THE GOLDEN BOYS!”
In the detached three bay garage at the compound, which Adam had turned into their studio, he stoo before the green screen that was draped across the far wall. To the viewers of the video he was about to produce, they would see stock footage of the world from space, straight from NASA or Cosmos. Neil deGrasse Tyson eat your heart out at these visuals. The planet bore a gold tint, some scratches, making it look like a news broadcast from the 1930s. Anastasia manned the camera. Bison stood off to the side. Adam straightened his red tie, then repositioned the SCW Television Championship belt over his shoulder.
[REC]
“In the beginning, the Golden Boys came into existence with a big bang! Our stocks skyrocketed right to a date with the SCW Tag Team Champions. Yes, we went the distance with the best team in 2020 voted by you, the fans, but came up just short. Frozen Hell slipped away with the belts and that served as our first setback in SCW. And since then? No bueno,” Adam started. He lowered his head briefly to mimic disappointment. But he didn’t have any. He had been in the business to know there are ebbs and flows. He sniffed loudly before looking back up to the camera. “And that’s when our mettle was really tested. It’s been a long, tough road to get back to our patented winning ways. Like any good father, I became grief-stricken why my child’s tragic accident rendered him unable to walk. Bison, oh Bison, I’m sorry to have let you down. You were too green to pick up my slack. I wanted to press you hard, but you’re still a rookie. And then I was further beaten down by SCW’s underappreciation of my contribution, this time in the form of the Tag Team League. If they were going to rip off my World’s Best Tag Tournament mere months after the fact, the least they could have done was toss us in the same pool as the champions. I didn’t get any royalties. I didn’t get anything. Nope, not even any credit by Sasha. Per usual, SCW stole my ideas and acted like it’s their own all along.”
“That’s theft!”
“And then finally, I had enough. I reached a breaking point. I got tired of being spit on. I got tired of being kicked while I was down. I have grown tried of being dismissed as some hack, while I know very well that I’m responsible for almost everything great in today’s wrestling. No, let me correct ourselves, we’ve both got tired of the bullshit!” Adam reached over now, snatching Bison’s sleeve to herd him onto the stage. Bison turned stiffly towards the camera, not comfortable in his black suit. He stood there, mouth slightly agape, seeming nervous. “Well, tell them, bud!”
“Damn right, we’re sick and tired of this bullshit!”
“Damn right!” Adam echoed. He smacked Bison hard on the back. “And then there is the new blood, the fresh meat, the future of the tag team division. What’s up with your lot not paying your dues? You act like you don’t know who I am? You’re ignorant of my brilliance, the same brilliance that paved your way. You’re enjoying your fat checks that come from your luxurious contracts. You’re soft. You weren’t hardened by the harsh working conditions that my generation had to labor through. Decades ago, before I injected my ideas into this sport. I altered this sport. I made it what it is today. I gave this sport its top stars. I shaped your entire universe, and you’re none the wiser. I might not have the resume of some of the glory hogs in the Hall of Fame, but I promise you that I have delivered more world champions to this sport, more intrigue, more entertainment than any other Dick and Jane that have entered this business before me or since. Well, politics might have denied me the respect I deserved. I might not have been paid as I should with respect or with cash. But if any of you do a little bit of independent research, you’ll quickly find that I’m at the center of everything. There I am. Wrestling’s Enlightenment. The center of the wrestling world, ushering professional wrestling, SCW included, into this Golden Era that you’re all benefiting from!”
“Is that right?” Bison caught himself asking, skeptical.
“I don’t lie. I spit the truth, bud. I swear by Almighty God that I will tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. That’s part of the reason why everyone hates me! I don’t sugarcoat anything! On Twitter, I’m feared because I make fools out of everyone. I make a mockery out of their pathetic behavior, make them out to be the overgrown teenagers that they are. The boardroom is afraid of me, because they know that I’m one idea away from shaking the foundation of this sport, reshaping it in my image, but that’s also why SCW has to keep me under contract. They might hate me, but they’re too afraid to let me walk,” Adam paused. He stepped closer to the camera now, obscuring Bison and the screen now. “But I’m tired, guys. I’m tired of keeping the lid of my greatness to help build the next generation. Maybe things would be different if you asshats gave me some credit. Look at Doom and Grove, I gave the props, I got them where they are today, and they act like I’m some lunatic asshol.e They mocked me when I kindly asked for acknowledgement. They think they got here by their own hard work, by their sweat and tears, but nevermind I expedited the process by selecting them to be in my tag team tournament six months prior.”
“And then there’s the Light in the Darkness. They were so enraged by my suggestion that their romance is overplayed in this sport, so much so, they rose up and beat us. I mean, talk about vanity. Talk about disrespect. Now, I admit, we might have taken them a little too lightly. Like Doom and Groove, they seemed to have a polished skill set that they developed out there in the minor leagues before coming here. Good on them. I won’t take that away from either team. But they only won, because for a moment, I forgot who I was. I forgot that I had the golden touch. I stopped believing in myself. And then, BOOM, I woke up and remembered how incredibly awesome, talented, and smart I am. Then things magically fell back into place. We were back on the right track. With me back in the right headspace, no one is going to stop the Golden Boys.”
“Yo, don’t get too cocky, Adam,” Bison warned.
“This isn’t cockiness. This isn’t arrogance. This is a man showing spine. This is a man showing grit. You see, all these assholes are discounting us Bison. They’re pretending we don’t stand a chance. Why? Because they don’t think we’re a cohesive unit, that we’re not on the same page. Granted, we might lack the chemistry as Vengeance, as Doom and Grove, as the Light in the Darkness, but you know what we have that they don’t? Me. We have me. I’m the super weapon. I’m the bomb. I’m the game breaking mechanic. And as long as you do what I say, when I say it, we’re golden.”
“Hey there, don’t act like I’m chump change,” Bison protested. He seemed to have grown a lot looser in his body posture the longer the promo went on. Adam’s slight distracted him from the camera. He brought Adam back a fews steps. “You can’t do this without me. Don’t you forget that.”
“You’re right. I can’t. I hired you for a reason. I knew you were the missing link.”
“Now that’s what I like to hear.”
“You see, they continue to disparage my character. I’m half-tempted to sue for defamation. They say that they Golden Boys aren’t a real team, because our goal is my goal. That we only exist to pursue what I want! And that’s absolutely right! I put this team together to win the SCW Tag Team Championship belts. This isn’t a date night to further our relationship. I didn’t bring you on because I personally cared about you and your goals. You’re basically a stranger. But I’m paying you to help me see my dreams come true. And they are over here trying to sow seeds of distrust between us, manipulate us, but they don’t know that we’re not stupid. We’ve been clear from the letgo, haven’t we been, Bison? You’re here because I pay you to be. You’re my hired muscle. Whether or not, you’re fond of me… whether or not, you might give me a little bit of lip… the reality is that you’re paid to do the heavy lifting. You see, kids, while you can parade around, pretending you have your partner’s best interests at heart, I’m the only one not burdened by that nonsense. I don’t have to pussyfoot around, trying not to bruise my partner’s ego, hurt his feelings. We got a job to do. He knows it. I know it. And we’re going to get it done!” Adam pointed towards the camera, wagging his finger. He crossed his arms then fell back into Bison’s chest. He smirked. “So you can take all that sentimental nonsense and shove it up yours. There is no place for that kind of baggage in the ring, not when the stakes are so high. You’re going to get lost. If you’re not fighting for yourself, you’re never going to make it to the top. Alliances are temporary and always changing. As long as you keep your eyes on the prize, that’s all that matters.”
“Hold up! Let me speak!” Bison raised his voice. He pushed Adam aside to stand before the camera. “Now, I really appreciate you all caring about me. You’re worried that I’m some idiot fool, but I’m not. I’m here under my own free will. I’m here because I’m making a pretty penny doing this shit. Adam might be some narcissist ass clown that is only in it for himself, but he’s not the only one in this sport that is like that. Hell, I got the sense that most of you are just as selfish, just as self-centered, but you hide it over cheap words and fluff. At least, this asshole is honest. At least, he ain’t hiding it.”
“Hey, what the hell man?” Adam protested.
“You said no pussyingfooting around, no need to protect the others’ feelings. Isn’t that right?”
“Do I look like a snowflake to you?” Adam shook his head, stepping forward again. “But I have a feeling that these three teams, regardless of their talent, regardless of their experience, regardless of their drive, are going to find themselves out gunned by the Golden Boys. We’re the team that’s going to take the brass ring, we’re going to use each of these glorified carnies, and elevate ourselves to the top again. And this time, we’re not going to go home without those Tag Team Titles.”
“And then, everything will be golden!”
[/REC]
“Hey, asshole, did I say you could speak to me like that?” Adam called out after Bison, who immediately exited, stage left.
King of HARDstyle 
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