From Parts Unknown: The Complete Five-Part Serial

By George Sirois

Out of work. Out of insurance. Out of options.

All Stephen Barker wants is to provide a better life for his wife and child, and his only answer is to become a star in the last remaining sport in America, the Gladiatorial Combat League. But while Stephen's intentions are noble, he has no idea that the GCL is becoming more and more corrupt behind the scenes.

The current World Champion, Kyle Flyte, is forced to deal with constant rule changes proposed by the head booker Vornakai, including the use of weapons in the ring. But Vornakai is keeping his latest plan to usurp the championship a secret from everyone. If it works, it will turn an ordinary man into a weapon to tear through the GCL ranks. All he needs is a test subject.

Someone like Stephen.

• Language: English
• Publisher: George Sirois
• Release date: Oct 1, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463136386

George Sirois

George Sirois has yearned to be a storyteller all his life, no matter the medium. That drive first led him to drawing his own characters while in grade school, and then - when his skills never advanced beyond the most primitive sketches - writing about them in various short stories and screenplays before moving on to novels such as “Excelsior” and the five-part serial “From Parts Unknown.” He is a regular contributor to Write Pack Radio (www.windingtrailsmedia.com) and was named President of the Missouri Writers Guild in May 2017.After living in New York City and Richmond, Virginia, George, his wife, and their two dogs now happily call St. Louis, Missouri their home. In his spare time, George is an avid cinephile, a collector of film scores, and a lifelong fan of the New York Giants. He enjoys West Coast Swing dancing, and is currently pursuing work as a voice actor & audiobook narrator.“Excelsior” and the first of two sequels - “Ever Upward: Part Two of The Excelsior Journey” - are available through Aelurus Publishing: www.aeluruspublishing.com.George's Twitter handle is @GeorgeSirois and his Facebook page is www.facebook.com/excelsiorbooks. For more information, go to www.hesgotit.com.

Book preview

PART ONE

THE BLUNT OBJECT AMENDMENT

I don't see [WWE] needing to evolve to what UFC does because, quite frankly, sometimes the fights are long and boring, guys lying around and sometimes the fights are fast and over in five seconds. I've always thought one of the things about us, if you look at us solely from a sports standpoint, is that we always give you a good show. We're never going to give you a crap game. I think if anybody needs to evolve, it's them. Give more of an entertainment standpoint.

-- Paul Triple H Levesque

CHAPTER ONE

Is that Cari?

Stephen’s eyes refused to look away from the wallet-size picture of the stunning brunette taped to the inside of his red locker door. She wore a simple white tank top that emphasized her outstandingly fit body. She was flashing a smile so dazzling one would swear it had the power to cure diseases. In her arms was a boy no older than six gleefully waving at the camera with a big toothy grin. That picture was the sole decoration the large, broad-shouldered man allowed in his locker, the one small area of the wrestling gym he claimed for himself. Jimmy Park’s question echoed throughout the otherwise empty locker room and Stephen had yet to acknowledge it. He was too preoccupied with sliding on his blue jeans and gazing at the picture, lost in the depths of his wife’s striking blue eyes which had a certain hypnotic quality to them that shone through even in the tiny photograph.

Park slapped his right fingerless-gloved hand on his friend’s shoulder. Hey, Barker. You alright, man?

Stephen’s nose immediately wrinkled as he snapped out of his trance-like state. What the hell is that you’re wearing?

Park pointed at the bottle in his locker. GCL Reality.

Stephen stifled a laugh as he grabbed his light blue button-down shirt from his locker. My God, they released their own cologne? What do they put in it, concentrated Kyle Flyte sweat?

Park shut his locker door, blocking his treasure from any additional mockery. I like it and so do the ladies. You should see how they flock to me when I’m wearing it.

They like it because it keeps away the mosquitoes.

You’re just jealous, that’s all.

Stephen nodded and rolled his eyes. Yeah, that’s it. Jealous.

Park looked over Stephen’s shoulder and got a closer look at the picture. Is that Cari? My God, she didn’t even look this good at your wedding. When the hell’d you get this taken?

Last week.

Eight long years with you and she still looks this good? If she’s ever looking for an affair… Before he could finish his sentence, Stephen gave him a quick punch in the gut. Park stepped back.

I’ll remember that when we’re at the tryouts, Park taunted while rubbing his stomach.

Good. That was the idea.

Park walked back to his locker and grabbed his bag as Stephen opened his wallet. All the requirements were there: state ID, social security card, government assistance charge card with a valid date on it. No cash inside, but he didn't need weird looks from anyone. What are you doing with THAT?! he had heard cash handlers being asked.

As Stephen slipped his wallet into his pants, Park asked, You didn’t tell Cari about this whole thing, did you?

What do you mean? Stephen asked as he slid on his shirt and buttoned it up.

Last time I was over for dinner, she had a shit fit because Tommy was watching a GCL show. Now, here you are, trying out for the company. What’s she gonna say if you get accepted?

I’ll let the contract do all the talking. Once she realizes how much money we’ll be making, she should come around.

And if she asks you what you’ve been doing all this time? You’ve been out of work for what, three months now?

She knows I’ve been looking. And hey, look at what I’m doing here. If I can get in, we can build up enough credit to live in Manhattan!

And there’s always a chance to try out for the other rosters. There’s more than just the Eastern Division, you know.

Stephen winced. Ugghh. And deal with all the registration forms and being put on the wait-list to move to another state? No, I gotta do this here.

Park slung his bag over his shoulder. Yeah, well maybe you should at least do some of the talking. She sees GCL anywhere on that contract and it’s confetti. You of all people oughta know that.

I’ll see you tomorrow, k?

Just don’t let her find your tights if you want to keep your balls! Park laughed over his shoulder as he exited the locker room.

*

Stephen was wearing his street clothes when he stepped into the main gym area. He felt a shiver creep along his spine as he looked around the interior. No matter how many times he had seen it, he always felt as though he were seeing the gym for the first time. Located on 9th Avenue in midtown Manhattan and with a spray-painted exterior, any unsuspecting passer-by would just continue along without so much as a second thought.

The interior of the building, however, was a combination of museum and church. Sure, the black paint on the walls had started to peel over time and the constant stench of sweat and blood permeated the room, but the wrestling ring in the center was kept in pristine condition. The ropes were taut, the mat always spotless, the apron covering the sides straightened, and the block-lettered logo for the Gladiatorial Combat League served as a constant reminder to anyone in the gym of what was the only sport in town. A spotlight focused its brilliant intensity down on the ring to provide the closest possible atmosphere for wrestlers.

Around the upper walls of the gym were fourteen different framed animated posters of various epic moments from wrestling history, looped to play over and over, in chronological order, eerily akin to a Professional Wrestling / Mixed Martial Arts Stations of the Cross.

JANUARY 1948 – Orville Brown wears the National Wrestling Alliance World Heavyweight Championship as its first-ever champion.

APRIL 1963 – Buddy Rogers becomes the first-ever World Wide Wrestling Federation Champion.

SEPTEMBER 1981 – Ric Flair defeats Dusty Rhodes to win his first NWA Heavyweight Championship.

JANUARY 1984 – Hulk Hogan defeats The Iron Sheik to win his first World Wrestling Federation Championship.

AUGUST 1994 – Shane Douglas throws down the NWA Heavyweight Championship and declares himself the Extreme Championship Wrestling World Heavyweight Champion.

FEBRUARY 1997 – Mark Coleman wins the first-ever Ultimate Fighting Championship Heavyweight Title.

MARCH 1998 – Stone Cold Steve Austin defeats Shawn Michaels to win his first World Wrestling Federation Championship.

DECEMBER 2001 – Chris Jericho becomes the first Undisputed Champion, combining the title lineages of both the World Wrestling Federation and World Championship Wrestling.

MAY 2007 – Kurt Angle holds up the Total Nonstop Action World Heavyweight Championship, becoming the first champion of the title’s lineage.

JANUARY 2021 – Draco Edwards wins the United States MMA Championship for Fighters Gladiators Warriors.

OCTOBER 2022 – Johnny Cabrini stands victorious in the middle of the ring after winning the inaugural battle royale for Canada's Stampede Alberta Wrestling promotion, becoming the first champion.

JUNE 2041 – Edward Flyte becomes the Fighters Gladiators Warriors North American Champion, absorbing the S.A.W. Championship.

FEBRUARY 2052 – The Punch That Changed It All – Togar punches Verne Dappy across the jaw and starts an actual fight during their championship match.

AUGUST 2053 – Kyle Flyte holds up the Gladiatorial Combat League World Championship.

Stephen smiled as he took in the different moments of history, and turned toward the ring to see a bearded, stocky gentleman running back and forth against the ropes. After the man bounced across the ropes for a third time, he launched himself and dropped an elbow on an imaginary opponent in the middle of the ring.

The man in the ring was about fifty pounds heavier than he’d been when he’d taken that history-making punch from Togar, but Verne Dappy still appeared light on his feet as he leapt up and continued running against the ropes, bouncing off and executing a leg-drop in the center. He had the same rough demeanor as he did during his peak years, with his long hair and big bushy beard giving a common man look that appealed to all demographics.

Stephen lowered his bag to the floor and leaned against the doorway to watch the show. He had caught Verne practicing his moves after his wrestling class before, and it always made him smile. Verne stood up and, oblivious to anyone watching, clenched his fist in front of his face - as though he were grasping an imaginary microphone - and began speaking to an imaginary crowd.

I’m not a bitter man for what you did to me, Sotek. In fact, I’m damned happy that you did it. You see, I don’t know what the hell kind of man you think I am, but the last thing in the world I hold is a grudge. But first, I'm gonna hold your big moronic head as I squeeze the very life out of you. And after that, I’m gonna reach inside and grab whatever alien thing is possessing you…

Stephen could no longer resist. …and squeeze the very life out of it, too!

Verne whipped around and gasped, startled out of his boots. Christ, Stephen. Don’t do that!

I remember that speech. The first Colosseum Classic, right?

Seems so long ago. I still don't know how Gary Blackman could afford putting up that special.

Think it would get this far?

Verne leaned against the ropes. It’s amazing what one ‘accidental’ punch can accomplish in this business. He’d made the air-quote gesture when he said accidental and gave his jaw a rub. But it was a lot more of a sport back in the day.

I’d say it’s more of a sport now than it’s ever been. You guys already knew who was winning and everything. And now that there are no run-ins or…

Verne pointed a finger at Stephen, his now thundering voice reverberating off the gym’s walls. It was always a sport to me. Back then, it required athleticism and an instinctive ability to pull off these moves without hurting yourself or your opponent. Now all you need is a reason to hit someone. For what?

Stephen picked up his bag and shrugged his shoulders. For the good of the public? For love of the game?

Verne rolled his eyes. For the good of the public, right.

Well, yeah. The President said that since all the other sports imploded, a company like the GCL was--

Was doing a public service. Blah blah blah. I don’t buy that line of happy horse shit for a second, and neither should you, Stephen. You’re here because it’s the only real high paying job that’s left. You’re lucky they haven’t found a way to automate the wrestlers yet. Verne stepped over the middle and lower ropes and walked down the metal stairs to stand on equal ground with his student.

You think it’s ever gonna be like that? Stephen asked.

Nobody ever thought wrestling would be like it is now. Look how that turned out, his teacher responded. On your way home?

Soon. The Evening News is starting up soon and I want to see the top story, then I gotta pick up my assistance money.

Ahh, yes, of course. You did make sure to notify the Assistance Bureau you were trying out for the GCL, right? They throw in an extra twenty credits per week.

Stephen nodded as Verne jogged to his office, grabbed a black hooded sweatshirt and put it on before shutting off the office light. The teacher and student strode side-by-side to the exit, and Verne swept his fingers along a touchpad adjacent to the door in a downward motion. The lights dimmed until the room was pitch black, with the lone spotlight still hanging over the ring.

CHAPTER TWO

Stephen and Verne walked down 45th Street in relative silence, speaking to each other only to consider the swarm of men, women and children running past them to the Long Island Rail Road station. You’d think there’d be an easier way to get all these people home, considering how many were priced out of Manhattan, Stephen observed.

Like they care, Verne scoffed. If the powers that be don't have to worry about it, it's not gonna happen. They're all sitting in their high-rises waiting for tonight's top story.

Speaking of which, come on. We're gonna miss it.

Verne pulled up the hood of his sweatshirt, draping it over his recognizable face. The excited buzz of people grew louder and louder with every step he and Stephen took.

The pair reached the corner of 45th Street and 8th Avenue when Stephen glanced at Verne and noticed a faraway look on his wizened face. Stephen looked down at his teacher's sweater and attempted to break the awkward silence. You're not sweating under that thing?

Verne shook his head. I'm fine. Besides, you know how it is these days. Seventy degrees one day, twelve the next.

You okay?

Just wondering what new development’s going to happen with the company. I always feel this way the night before my students have their audition matches. I worry about all of you, I really do.

Do you have any last-minute advice for me and Park?

Verne looked at his student and smiled. Do exactly as you’re told. Keep your matches above the Ten-Minute mark. And remember all the training I’ve given you. That should add at least two, maybe three years to a career in the GCL. Especially now that they’ve passed The Ten-Minute Minimum Act. Without that, you’d just see guys trying to knock each other out early and not dedicating any of their time to entertaining the fans.

Stephen nodded. Right. Not to mention, wrestlers don’t get paid unless their matches last at least ten minutes.

Exactly. Oh, and one more thing. Even if you get picked to be on Vornakai's side, you watch him like a hawk. I don't trust him.

Stephen shrugged his shoulders. Well, he IS the bad guy, Verne. He's not supposed to be trusted.

No, you don't understand, Verne warned, looking Stephen in the eye and gritting his teeth. I never trusted him. Not even at the beginning of it all, when he was one of the good guys. I don't care how charming he may be, you do NOT trust him either. You got it? He reached out and squeezed Stephen's right shoulder.

Stephen nodded. Alright, I... I won't trust him. Verne pulled his hand back and Stephen changed the subject. What was it like back in those days? At the beginning?

Verne's warning glare gave way to one of fond memories. Well, at that time, the GCL was just one amongst all the other two-bit promotions. Town to town, gym to gym, twenty bucks on a good night. Kyle was one of those guys, loyal through it all. He could have just gone into FGW like his father did, but he stood by Gary. That’s how he earned the GCL title.

Wouldn't you say he won the title, not earned it? He had to beat you for it, and he has to keep defending it instead of carrying it around like a trophy.

Verne's glare returned and he jabbed his finger at his student. Stephen, that title may be a lot of things, but it’s not, nor has it ever been 'just a trophy.' Stephen felt humbled and had nothing to say in response. Point well taken.

As the two men reached 45th Street and Broadway, the typical commotion that accompanied Times Square had reached a fever pitch. Verne looked up and saw the collection of towering office buildings with their garish corporate logos gleaming over each main doorway. Despite the sun already having set for the day, the various electronic billboards above the bustling crowds blazed down, creating an artificial daylight hiding behind the 15-year-old skyscrapers. Verne squinted at the bright lights surrounding the titans of glass and steel and shook his head in disgust.

I could never get a good view of the very top of those buildings, Stephen said.

You're not supposed to, Verne replied. This is what they want, Stephen. This is what this whole borough has become.

What do you mean?

Look up there, Verne said, pointing to the skyscraper with the most invisible roof. When I was a kid, there was an over-the-top feel here, but there was at least some restraint. Now that construction's been de-regulated, it's become the most expensive pissing contest. They're out-spending each other to see who's going to have the tallest building, the highest view overlooking these poor saps that aren't looking back. All they're watching is the screens around them.

But if they didn't watch the televisions, Stephen started.

Verne cut him off. Yes, I know. If they didn't watch, what would we do for a living? Who would have seen me become the champion, right? I know it sounds like I'm biting the hand that fed me by talking about these people. But it doesn't mean I' m not right about it.

Below the New Year’s ball and the 2058 numbers that still glimmered stood a gigantic television monitor that blared the electronic trumpets, signaling the GCL Newsflash. As the music cascaded through the streets, everyone stopped milling around and turned their faces toward the immense display in rapt anticipation.

Once the red, white and blue-lettered GCL logo faded from the screen, several men whistled their approval when the blonde-haired, blue-eyed, beautifully sculpted face of Kitty West appeared. Sitting at her anchorperson’s desk, she smiled and addressed her audience.

"Good evening, America. It is now 6:00pm Eastern Standard Time on Wednesday, January 23, 2058, and it's a comfortable 67 degrees in New York City. Welcome to GCL In the Evening. I'm Kitty West. We are just eight days away from our all-day-long coverage of the President's visit to San Francisco. It will be the seventh anniversary of the loss of the Golden Gate Bridge. President Henderson’s administration has released a brief statement about this upcoming date, as well as the latest news about the nation’s conflict with Korea. The statement reads: ‘This is a time for all of us as citizens to look back with regret at a tragic time in our history, and a time for all of us to look forward with faith that we will never be vulnerable again.’"

One of the thousands of people yelled out, Who cares? A smattering of chatter and laughter echoed that statement. Stephen glanced at Verne, who just shook his head in response.

In other news, New York City Mayor Ronald Green has announced the completion of Project42, a luxury government housing facility that occupies what was the New York Public Library on 42nd Street and Fifth Avenue. It fits five hundred families and the winners are selected from a special lottery that will begin tonight at 8pm. These lucky families will be given a studio-sized apartment, complete with a private bathroom, designed, constructed, and donated by the Construction Corporation of America.

Stephen's hands clenched into fists. Verne took note of the anger building in his student and said, CCA. Those were...?

Stephen nodded. The assholes who bought out the construction company I worked for? The ones who cut over half of its employees? Yeah. That's them.

Kitty continued speaking. The family will not only gain access to an apartment, but they will also be granted admission into the newly renovated Bryant Park GCL Access Theater.

The chattering among the crowd dropped to a whisper as the image of Kitty West was replaced by a 3D rendering of Bryant Park, behind the New York Public Library, with a large white dome enveloping the park area. When activated, the dome will be filled with a holographic projection of any Gladiator Colosseum throughout the nation, giving these lucky winners the best seats in the house. This lottery is open to all families that have been established in the public housing facilities for one year. A mixture of groans and cheers came from the crowd. The first batch of winners will be selected tomorrow night before the next installment of GCL Live. Now, our top story tonight comes from the GCL. Conversations between people were shushed so everyone could hear the news. We have just received word from CEO Gary Blackman that the originally planned main event for tonight’s GCL Live has been postponed until tomorrow. The matches scheduled for the Central, Mountain and Pacific Divisions will remain the same, but the current Eastern Division Tag Team Champions, The Solar System, will battle Zarron and Norad of the Roswell Rejects at the main event of tomorrow’s broadcast.

Both Stephen and Verne chortled at the mention of the Roswell Rejects. How they’d managed to remain on the GCL’s roster despite being labeled with what had to be the dumbest gimmick in the history of the sport eluded both the teacher and student.

In their place will be the rematch that we have all been waiting for three months to see. Togar will be getting back in the ring against the man he put of action, P.T. Cruz.

The entire crowd erupted into ecstatic cheers and many of them started a chant of P.T. Cruz! P.T. Cruz!!

Stephen leaned over to Verne and said, That first match with Togar was on when Cari caught me watching GCL Live. She forbade me from watching it ever since.

What did she say when you told her about your tryout tomorrow?

Stephen turned his head back toward the screen as the camera on Kitty West pulled back to reveal an older balding gentleman wearing glasses, a pinstriped suit and a jeweled pinky ring.

Kitty continued with her report. I’m here tonight with famed wrestling historian and author of the new eBook, ‘How the GCL Saved America from Itself,’ Ernie Salt. Ernie, it’s a pleasure to have you here tonight.

Pleasure to be here as always, Kitty. Ernie said with a tone befitting of a perverted uncle.

So, Ernie, it has been three months since both men were last seen in the ring. P.T. Cruz was out of action due to the brutal concussion he sustained at the hands of Togar, while Togar was suspended for repeatedly smashing a crowbar against Philip’s head. What are the repercussions from an act such as Togar’s?

Well, Gary Blackman and the front office have been spending the past three months debating how best to proceed with this. Should they view this as an isolated incident or would this be something that could be used to enhance the sport? So the United States Department of Sports & Entertainment, chaired by our esteemed Speaker of the House, John Barth, started incorporating this quandary into their weekly public polls. Should the weapons ban continue, or should they be allowed with certain stipulations placed on their use?

And what were the results of those polls, Ernie?

The results were intriguing, Kitty. Approximately 76 percent of our viewers approved the possibility of permitting weapons in the ring. And out of those who posted comments along with their votes, an overwhelming majority requested that the use of such weapons be regulated. Only one per wrestler or tag team, the weapon must be presented to the troubleshooting referees outside the ring prior to the match to ensure that there are no sharp edges, and the weapon must be a blunt object only. Firearms are still, and will continue to be, banned from use.

Oh, that's a relief, Verne spit with just a tad of sarcasm.

What about the other 24 percent? Kitty asked. Those who voted against the use of weapons in the ring?

It’s interesting that you should ask because, when the data from the 24 percent that voted against was scanned, we discovered that the age range of the viewers was from 50-75 years. And that’s understandable, since they had a ringside seat, if you will, of wrestling evolving into the only game in town over the past two decades. But as we heard from Vornakai…

Ernie stopped talking for ten seconds to allow the entire viewing public to boo the name of the GCL’s head booker. And as expected, everyone around Stephen and Verne unleashed a tirade of booing, jeering, middle finger waving, and obscenities at the mere mention of Vornakai’s name. Of course, Ernie didn’t just shut his mouth and sit there doing nothing. He let out a small cough and took his time opening a small bottle of water and taking a sip. By the time he finished drinking, Stephen could hear the uproar begin to dissipate.

Scary, isn’t it? Stephen asked Verne. Even from their studio, they can tell when people are cheering or booing.

It’s all part of the big picture, Stephen, Verne responded. Vornakai was made to be booed. Stephen could tell that his teacher was becoming more and more uncomfortable being among the crowd of fans.

Verne tugged on the strings of his hooded sweatshirt and looked up at Stephen. I gotta get somewhere, he said. Good luck tomorrow, and don't forget what I said. He gave his student a strong handshake and disappeared from sight.

Ernie swallowed his water and continued. Vornakai stated that Gary Blackman and the front office are considering this measure. We'll know before long whether this will be another bill to pass by the United States Department of Sports & Entertainment.

All of the onlookers began chattering amongst themselves. Stephen could barely understand what was being said, but he could sense the very tangible, nearly electric aura of eager anticipation buzzing through the crowd. As Ernie and Kitty continued discussing the rest of the lineup for tonight’s GCL Live, Stephen strolled around the crowd, taking in what they were doing and how they were reacting to the news. He smiled as he observed everyone reacting as one. They all cheered when they were expected to cheer, they all booed when they were expected to boo and they talked among themselves when the two on the screen were discussing the expected attendance at New York City’s Gladiator Colosseum.

Enjoy it, folks, Stephen whispered to himself. After tomorrow, you’ll be cheering me on.

Stephen glanced at his watch and walked toward the 49th Street subway station. He could still hear the voices of Ernie and Kitty discussing tonight’s main event as he walked further and further away from the crowd.

So tell me, Ernie. This is not only the first time in the ring in three months for P.T. Cruz, but it’s also the first time for Togar. Have you been in contact with him? How is he preparing for tonight’s match?

You can say what you will about Togar… Again, he paused so the audience could boo, but this time he allotted five seconds instead of ten. He knew from his years of experience that Togar may be hated, but Vornakai? That guy was despised. … but one thing you can’t say about him is that he’s lazy. He’s been spending almost his entire suspension in the GCL gym. Every day I was at the main offices in New York’s Gladiator Colosseum, he’s been in the weight room. It’s going to be a great match between these two.

Kitty flashed another vapid smile. Thank you for your time here, Ernie. Once again, Ernie Salt, GCL historian. When we come back, we have more information to share about a police infiltration of the AFFD domestic terrorist group. We'll be right back.

As Stephen continued walking uptown, the fanfare for the national news broadcast gave way to the whirring of the automated construction site creating another Times Square skyscraper as easily as a child building a tower made of multi-colored Lego bricks. The foreman – the lone human being at the site – sat at the control panel with one eye on his machines and another eye transfixed on the oversized screen seven blocks away.

Stephen shook his head in sad disbelief as he looked to his right and saw a completed office building at the corner of 48th Street and 7th Avenue. He could see the exact line where his construction team stopped on that building when they were laid off, and where the machines had taken over.

He looked up at each neighboring skyscraper that made up the Times Square area and smiled at each billboard that featured various GCL stars. There was a video screen showcasing the gruff and angry face of Max Mercury swinging his fist and striking a Roswell Reject in the jaw and holding up a bottle of Power Cola with a wide smile. The advertisement ended with, Only a Reject Turns Down a Power Cola. There was Kyle Flyte wearing his customary red and blue high-cut singlet, with his GCL World Championship over his shoulder. Above him was the tagline: We’re Watching You, Champ! Below him was the logo for the GCL Network show, GCL Champion Behind the Scenes. Next to him was a spinning GCL logo, reminding fans that GCL Live matches air every Monday, Wednesday and Thursday at 8:00pm EST. There was the Lightweight Lunatic, flying through the air in his red tights and matching red sleeveless shirt, with the slogan, You’ll Flip for Choco-Crunch Candy Bars right under him.

Stephen took a moment to look at all the different signs covering the area and admiring from afar all of the stars of the GCL hyping various products, services and television shows. Maybe there's room for at one more sign.

Stephen looked at his wristwatch and gasped. Just three minutes until the next subway train was scheduled to arrive. He bounded down the steps of the 49th Street Subway Station and power-walked up to the turnstiles.

Behind the turnstiles, all Stephen could see was one row after another of people just like him. The poor saps that come into Manhattan to either work for their corporate masters or look for work. He winced at the thought of being squeezed into the train, which somehow was able to keep running after decades of use with minimal maintenance.

Before Stephen could pass through the turnstiles and claim a spot on the platform, a familiar voice grabbed his attention.

I’d recognize those arms anywhere!

Stephen turned around and saw a decrepit newsstand with a chubby balding man about ten years older than him standing inside it. He had a smile on his face, but even from a distance, Stephen could see that living had taken a lot of life out of the man’s eyes.

Joey? He made his way closer to the newsstand and extended his hand to his old friend. Joey took the proffered hand and shook it. How have you been?

Joey outstretched his arms, his fingertips grazing the wrappers of the three-month old chocolate bars and the perforated rolls of lottery tickets. How much better can I be? This right here, this is my palace. Amazing, isn't it? The hard jobs get automated and the ones like this, they let someone like me run it.

How long has it been now? Three months since we were working on the 48th Street buildings?

Stephen could see the bitterness spitting out of Joey’s mouth. Since we got replaced by those big freakin’ toys? Yeah, three months. You need anything here? I got magazine scan-boxes for your eReader, I got Choco-Crunch bars, those are really popular.

Nah, I'm good. I'm just trying to get home. My train should be here in about two minutes.

What are you up to now?

Stephen shrugged his massive shoulders. I don’t know yet. I’m trying out for the GCL tomorrow.

Joey’s eyes widened. The GCL? Wow, how great would that be? Maybe when I have a night off from here, I’ll be able to see you on TV. Or you could get me a ticket or somethin’. Well, you’re definitely the kinda guy for that job. You sure got the look for it.

Stephen smiled and nodded. Thanks a lot, man. I need that kind of support tomorrow. He shook his friend’s hand again and headed back toward the turnstiles.

Joey called after him. And hey, if you don’t make it, we’re always hiring over here! Stephen refused to look over his shoulder, just in case he wasn’t far enough away to prevent Joey from noticing the sudden burst of fear in his eyes.

CHAPTER THREE

To the good times.

Verne was still catching his breath as he lifted his already half-empty glass of Dewar's and Sprite on the rocks.

Although he hadn’t run from Times Square to the Ringside Seat Bar & Grill on the corner of 31st Street and 8th Avenue, Verne had done the most power-walking he’d attempted in quite some time. The trek had taken a lot out of him as he’d managed to bob and weave through the New Yorkers, getting home as quickly as possible. He threw open the door of the bar, pushed his way past the myriad patrons who kept motioning in the general direction of a table in the back, and gave a slight wave to the gorgeous bartender with the shoulder-length brown hair and sparkling green eyes.

Hi, Verne! she called out to him in her distinctive honeyed voice that could garner a goofy-looking schoolboy grin from any man—especially an old childless widower like Verne.

Hey, Maria, he sputtered. She wasn't helping him steady his breathing, nor was her strategically flattering cut-off T-shirt. Thank you again... for helping my friend... with the job.

Oh, no problem at all, she smiled. It wasn’t me who did the hiring, it was Deanna. Besides, we need all the help we can get. Kyle's here and he's waiting for you.

Verne waved to her again, wiped the sweat off his brow with a cocktail napkin, and walked to his usual table in the back of the bar, beside the staircase that led to the dining area. He nodded to Rufus, the large ebony-skinned man standing beside his table, his thick, muscled arms folded across the black polo shirt covering his broad chest. Emblazoned upon Rufus' shirt was the signature block-lettered GCL logo with the American flag graphic embedded in the letters, and the bodyguard gave a slight nod.

Verne sat down and was greeted by the smiling face and intimidating physique of Kyle Flyte sitting across from him. Even with his street clothes and a jacket on over his tights, Kyle's athletic frame captured the attention of the various customers at the bar. With his short, spiky blonde hair and smooth face, he had the look and charisma to connect with the general public, and Verne always felt a tinge of pride whenever he spent time with him.

One curious patron tried to approach their table, but a hard glare from Rufus prompted the poor soul to back off and go about his business without protest.

The current GCL World Champion raised his half-full glass of vodka and orange juice and the two men clinked their glasses together in the center. They both took deep sips of their drinks before placing them back on the table. Verne's breathing soon returned to normal as he felt the liquor already doing its part to relax him.

So where were you? Kyle asked. Usually, you've got two empty glasses and a half-eaten basket of chicken fingers on the table by the time I get here.

Verne shrugged his shoulders. They're really good.

Something that tastes THAT good can't be good for you, you know. Ever think about that?

To answer your question from before, Verne evaded. I have to train the next generation of GCL Warriors. Especially if they keep giving the okay sign to lay both locker rooms on a slab.

It's not gonna be that bad, Kyle responded.

So you say.

Yes, so I say. It's one of the benefits. My opinion DOES matter a bit backstage.

I hope you're right, Verne muttered and took a swig.

Maybe you should get another drink. You seem a bit on edge.

I'm fine.

So you say, Kyle said with a smile. How are the new guys you're training?

Verne placed his glass back on the table before answering Kyle's question. These two guys I'm working with now are great. They're both going in tomorrow for their final auditions, so you'll see what I mean. They’re big guys and they really want it. Although I can’t help but feel worried with the new rule changes they're considering... His voice trailed off.

They're not going to happen, Verne. Kyle insisted.

Kyle, I know how Gary works. I know that it's all about what the consumers want. He waved his arm with a slight air of contempt toward the customers still glancing at their table, and gestured toward the small crowd of people on the street outside gawking at them through the glass wall to Verne's right. If the latest polls say the general public wants the Warriors to bring in shotguns, you might as well stock up on bullet-proof vests because I guarantee you'll see a 'Shootout Match' booked for the next special.

Kyle raised his hand and motioned it down. Verne, calm down. I know Gary too, and I know that with all the different evolutions wrestling's gone through over the years, he's still a traditionalist. He believes in the ultimate heart of this sport: two men going head-to-head to see who the superior athlete is. He's not going to piss it away and turn it into something that it's not just because the general public is pressuring him to do it. He knows what's best for us and he's going to look out for us. Like he always has since the beginning.

Verne nodded. The beginning. He raised his glass again. To the good times, and gulped down the remaining alcohol. He always did look out for us, back when it was just him that we had to impress and not any elected officials.

Don't worry about them. Gary's already assured us that it's his voice everyone needs to pay attention to, no one else.

This all used to be so much simpler.

Of course it did. And the arenas used to be a lot emptier, too. Not to mention smaller. Would you rather we go back to that? Kyle's voice grew louder. Struggling to get any decent airtime on television? Trying to keep our heads above water after every event and dealing with football, basketball, hockey, baseball, even soccer getting the priority timeslots? Where are they all now?

Gone.

That's right! Gone. Well, maybe not soccer, but AMERICAN soccer is gone, just like the rest of them. And it was because of us. You and I, and the rest of the guys on the roster. Gary knows that and he's not going to jeopardize our safety. He owes us too much.

It's not him I'm worried about, and you know it, Verne responded as soon as Kyle stopped to take a breath. You're not the only one with Gary's ear. If I'm not mistaken, Vornakai is still the head booker of the matches, right? Kyle nodded. He's always been an opportunist. Any chance he'll get to take that title from you, he's going to jump on it. Just look at the first rule he put in once he was given the authority and the locker room was split into two factions.

I know the rule, Verne, Kyle said with a hint of annoyance. The leader of each faction has the right to claim the championship title for himself if he sees fit.

Right. And where were you when this happened?

That's easy. I was beside Gary, adding the stipulation that the head booker position and GCL World Champion were of equal and separate status. No one man is to hold both positions.

Touché, Verne conceded. You're smarter than you look.

I had a good teacher, Kyle quipped. All this talk about how you don't like the direction the sport's going in, and here you are having a drink with the ultimate representative of that sport.

No I'm not, Verne grinned. I'm having a drink with my friend and my best student.

Who's the smart one now? The two of them laughed for a moment before Kyle finished off his drink.

I still don't trust him, Verne said.

Vornakai?

Who do you think? Verne's voice lowered to a loud whisper. He's up to something, I know it. Just the way he would walk around backstage, before your time, before Togar even hit me, it seemed like he lived in Gary's ear.

You're afraid that he's pulling Gary's strings or something?

At least he did before the government got involved and Gary upgraded to a new puppet master. He tried to look into Kyle's eyes as the World Champion lowered his head and took another sip of his drink. You know I'm right about this. I've seen him behind the scenes. Nobody is that much into their gimmick that they believe they're some twisted cult leader.

Relax, Verne, Kyle said as he pointed to his friend's glass. Want another drink? Verne shook his head no. You don't have to worry about Vornakai. I'm keeping an eye on him, and he's just trying these scare tactics because he knows he can't beat me. I beat him in the ring twelve times already. Gary had to order him to stop giving himself title shots. Trust me, he's harmless.

To you, maybe. Good thing Togar's coming back tonight or else you'd die of boredom in the ring.

Now you're saying I don't give my all?

I'm just saying... Verne tried to come up with the right words that wouldn't hurt his friend's feelings. ... Just saying that you look bored. At least when Vornakai was going after you all those times, you had someone in the ring who could keep up with you. You're almost like a bully out there, I'm surprised you didn't take Esker's lunch money when you were done with him.

They're the best of what's left, what can I tell you? Kyle took another sip of his drink and changed the subject. You know, you could always just join the front office team. You don't have to rely on me to get your backstage gossip. I'm sure Gary would have no problem with you running the gym or--

Verne cut him off. Not happening. I'm happy where I am. Besides, Gary asked me to join after I lost my 'Loser Leaves' match.

You never told me that.

Well, there wasn't much to tell. I kept up with Togar for so long before he got me with the spear and pinned me.

He just asked you once you came backstage? What did he say? What did you say?

Relax. Like I said, there's not much to tell. He asked me to work as a trainer for the up-and-coming GCL Warriors. And I said, 'No thank you' and walked out the door without looking back. I was only involved with the promotion during the first two years that it was ‘all real,’ but man, those two years can take a lot out of you.

Suddenly, a collection of voices cut through the chatter from outside. Where is Full Disclosure?! Where is Full Disclosure?!

Both Verne and Kyle turned their heads toward the window and saw two men and two women that looked like they were in their twenties, dressed in camouflage pants, red white and blue shirts and matching camouflage jackets. Each of them held a sign in their right hands and marched together through the crowd of onlookers gawking at the current GCL World Champion and the former champ. The signs all read: JUSTICE FOR FULL DISCLOSURE! FULL DISCLOSURE - MIA! GCL, WHERE IS FULL DISCLOSURE?

What are they doing here? Kyle asked as he motioned with his head toward the protestors.

You know them, Verne responded with a dismissive tone. Any place where the GCL is, they're going to keep showing up.

Kyle nodded toward one particularly loud protestor in the middle of the crowd. This man who appeared to be in his late 20s was thin to the point of looking malnourished, his long stringy hair hung over his eyes and his arms flailed as he chanted along with his cohorts. I've seen that one around a lot. One time he pointed at me and shouted, 'There is the enemy!' That same day, I made a pitch to Gary that maybe I should have a bodyguard. So he hired Rufus.

Rufus nodded his head in acknowledgment, keeping his eyes ahead and using his God-given intimidation tactics to give Verne and Kyle the privacy they craved.

Verne asked, How long do you think it'll take before the police... His voice trailed off as a police siren began wailing in the distance and the protestors ran west toward 9th Avenue.

Never mind, Verne said while shrugging his shoulders.

Gotta love New York's finest, Kyle said. At least when the show is getting ready to start. They want to watch it too.

Suddenly, the television screens in the bar lit up with the GCL logo and its traditional ten-minute countdown timer. Alright, I gotta get going. The show's about to start.

Hello, GCL fans! came a booming off-camera voice that prompted a burst of applause from the customers at the bar. I'm former Tag Team Champion Ty Meerson and it's a pleasure to once again welcome you to the GCL Live Pre-Show!

Kyle shook Verne's hand. I'll call when I can meet up again.

Verne smiled at his friend. I'll make sure not to be so winded on my way here next time.

The GCL World Champion gave Rufus a playful slap on the shoulder. Let's do it. And as the customers stood with their necks craned toward the closest television screens, Rufus held out his thick arms, creating a path for Kyle as though he were Moses parting the Red Sea. Kyle glanced back at Verne and waved to him before exiting the bar.

Verne turned toward the window and saw Kyle and Rufus walking across the street to what was once called Madison Square Garden, and which now held the simpler and more uniform moniker of Gladiator Colosseum: New York City. He was immediately pursued by throngs of ticket-holding fans cheering for the champion and holding out their hands for high-fives. Kyle obliged them as always, but refused to stop moving and remained behind Rufus.

The GCL logo faded from the screen, replaced by Ty Meerson with his trademark headset microphone locked in place around his ear. Verne smiled as he saw Ty wearing his sunglasses. He knew behind those glasses were a pair of bloodshot eyes with bags underneath them. And of course, he wore a sleeveless tuxedo so his guns had a chance to breathe.

Tonight is going to be a very special episode of GCL Live, and as always we will be simulcast from four different Gladiator Colosseums. Los Angeles will feature the long-awaited grudge match between The Gnome and Goodfella Jimmy Torini. We've been witnessing this feud develop over the past several weeks as Goodfella claimed that Gnome was going to be planted in his front lawn head first and The Gnome retaliated by blind-siding him with a hard punch to the back of the head before Goodfella could exit the ring after his latest victory. The image of Meerson was replaced by a highlight reel from two weeks ago. The customers all let out a collective Ooooh! as they saw the wrestler with the purple and green spandex outfit wrapped around a short and stocky frame slide under the ring ropes, get on his feet and sucker punch the lankier wrestler with the pinstriped tights designed to look like a suit. Goodfella fell to his knees, clutching the back of his head.

The camera cut back to Meerson. Detroit, Michigan has a fun match scheduled as its main event, with Reno Copeland going toe-to-toe against his Tag Team partner Chad Harris. We've seen these two young competitors tagging each other in without the other's consent and this behavior has led them to a series of frustrating losses against upper echelon teams such as Black & Friday and The Solar System. Now they get to take all of their pent-up frustrations out on each other and who's to say whether or not they'll still be a team once the dust settles?

Verne could hear the customers at the bar chattering to each other about who they are