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He couldn't move. He sat
on that metal folding chair for what seemed like hours. His head filled
with cement. A pool of blood collected at his feet. All he wanted to do
was take a shower and go home. To his own bed. Not the couch he was
sharing with his tag team partner at the promoter's house. The drive
back home was too long. Especially since they had a matinee show at the
local high school. They were scheduled to face the Terra again in
singles matches. He felt like he was dying.
A voice spoke. It was a female voice, sweet yet firm. One of the first
things he learned from "The Greek" was to focus on the voices of your
opponent, the ref and your partner. Everything else was static. Even a
pop should be static. Don't distinguish between heat and pop. He would
say, "It's not your job to recognize the pops or when your getting heat.
The promoter tells you who should like you or hate you. If they're
supposed to hate you, but their cheering their asses off. That's
information for the promoter, not you. If your job is to be the heel,
and they chant your name? Flip them the bird. If try to slap your hands
in victory, spit on the floor. It's all static to you."
"It's your turn to get stitched." Lisa Kenney had a regal presence. She
was beautiful and smart. And she was the bosses daughter, Bob Kenney the
owner of Valley Pro Wrestling. "Ron you are a mess."
"...Tell me about it." He paused before speaking. He was still
collecting his bearings, and the kid didn't recognize his real name, Ron
Fell. Normally backstage people used his gimmick surname Steele. I. Ron
Steele. He winced.
"Here let me see, tilt your head back." Lisa's hands were covered with
brand new rubber gloves. She matted Ron's head with a fresh white towel,
that slowly became red. Lisa by day was a registered nurse, and helped
her father put on shows in the valley. She loved being around her
father, even though she hated the business. "Good job, blading today. It
wasn't as deep as the last time. No Emergency room trip for you today.
The one benefit of blading every night was having Lisa clean you up and
giving you stitches. Occasionally smitten jobbers would blade or try to
get opened up the hard way. Although, the latter usually ended up
unconscious and in the back of the ambulance.
"It's a little different cutting yourself in front of a
crowd. Good thing you practiced." Her lips glistened in the
lights. He just wanted to look at her lips for the rest of his life.
"Yeah, about that." The kid wasn't sure he should
reveal his secret. He forgot his razor blade and one of the Terra
had to cut him.
"Shh, your getting blood in your mouth."
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