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Gold Rush RP3: "The English Gent" Lawrence Stanley in Read All About It, Part One

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Gold Rush RP3: "The English Gent" Lawrence Stanley in Read All About It, Part One

Susie’s Tea Emporium and Café was busy for a Sunday afternoon. It was a quaint little place, somewhat out of place in Los Angeles, it offered something of a more well-paced and soothing feel to its patrons compared to the quick-fix, drive-thru mentality that seemed to beset society. The air-conditioned, oak panelled, building was filled with the sound of conversation, background music and the clanking of cups on saucers. It was a compact but not pokey, out of the way, but not obscure place and one of Lawrence Stanley’s favourite haunts.

Indeed the Gent was sat at his favourite table, near the window, the tinted glass allowing him to observe society whilst not being observed himself. Stanley glanced down at his watch, Rudy Seitzer was due, in fact he was due three minutes ago, well, two minutes and thirty seven seconds if you want to be anal. The Gent considered going back to his newspaper but decided against it in case he missed the CSWA reporter. Instead Stanley used the opportunity to check his appearance, he was a stickler for such matters, and while the temperatures of LA meant a suit was not always a good idea there was no reason to appear shabbily dressed. The Gent had gone with a light blue short sleeved shirt, navy blue slacks and loafers, and as he brushed a stray hair from his left lapel he noticed Rudy Seitzer walk in.

Rudy hadn’t changed much, in fact not at all, either from extremely good keeping, or more likely through the assistance of some form of hair colouring. Rudy wore a white shirt that appeared to have a CSWA logo on it, black pants and black dress shoes, Stanley observed that Seitzer was sweating profusely, and that he had probably ran here, knowing what Stanley’s insistence on punctuality. The sweating wasn’t just restricted to his forehead, as Rudy raised an arm to acknowledge Stanley’s whereabouts he could make out a rather large sweat patch, and to do that on a white shirt shows the levels of perspiration of the roving reporter.

“Rudy, good to see you again my man, it has been a long time” Smiled the Gent, offering his huge right hand that Rudy took limply, his hand was also sweaty and he smiled as if to apologise for the fact. “You too Lawrence, I have to say, you’re looking damn good.” this caused mirth to Stanley “You are either very kind or you need to think about investing in contact lenses Rudy!” Stanley had always liked Seitzer, he’d been there in the CSWA from as long as he could remember, in a time where people’s words were constantly being used out of context or twisted to give a story more edge Rudy was the last bastion of honest reporting. He never really got or gets the credit it for it, but for a story of this nature Stanley knew he could speak to no-one else than this man.

“I’m sorry I’m late Lawrence, I struggled to get parked, and then trying to find this place, well I….” Stanley interrupted Rudy by holding up his hand “…Think nothing of it, it is not one of the easiest places to find, which is one of the reasons I like it so much. Plus you get real tea here, proper English tea, not Da Jeeling, or Earl Gray, or Lap Sang Soo Shong, just good old-fashioned English tea!” As if on queue a woman in her early twenties walked over, clutching a note pad, her blond hair in a pony-tail, her clothes not uniform but smart, a white t-shirt, black three quarter pants and black flats. “Are you ready to order now Mr Stanley?” Stanley smiled and passed the menu to Rudy “I’ve told you before Megan, just call me Lawrence, and yes, we are ready to order now thank you, now that my friend has arrived!” Stanley ribbed, Rudy didn’t know whether to laugh of be embarrassed, so just smiled and read the menu. “I’ll just have a pot of your old English tea please….and you Rudy?” Seitzer seemed aghast at such choice, he just wanted a coffee, but for some reason felt that he would be seen as a hot drink Philistine for such an action “Err….I think I’ll go for….erm….the same….please.” Megan noted it down and walked off, as he watched her youthful bottom sway Rudy also fished out his recording equipment.

“How’s the old guy, I hear his hip was replaced?” enquired the reporter. “Alfred? Yes he had a replacement about eighteen months ago, he finally uses the cane for its primary use! It doesn’t stop him, he’ll be back with me.” This answer brought a raised eyebrow from Rudy “Really? I gotta say Lawrence, I wasn’t just kissing your butt before, I’m impressed. Considering I haven’t seen you in the flesh for five years you’re looking good.” Stanley smiled at this “There is a difference between looking and feeling good my friend! I am on somewhat of a kill or cure training regime at the moment. I need to lose a little weight, gain some more muscle, and generally get my ring craft back together.” Before Rudy could say anything else Megan returned with the tea, Rudy watched Stanley in the same way a child watches an activity for the first time, copying the way he poured himself a cup. “And the knee?” Stanley was expecting it and sipped his tea first. “Its been worse, and its been a lot better. I will have to wear a brace, but the more I train the stronger it seems to be, I just have to be careful not to over do it.”

The next ten minutes were spent with Rudy asking the Gent why the comeback, Stanley telling Rudy exactly what he told Alfred that day in the garden, he told Seitzer about that too. “Well that’s very noble Lawrence, but how can you be sure this isn’t a quick flash in the pan for you?” Stanley poured himself a second cup, using the time to formulate his answer. “I cannot be sure, that is the problem, just as I am embarking on a kill or cure training session, Gold Rush is very much kill or cure in terms of my wrestling career. If my body, and in particular my right knee can withstand that type of brutality in a match, five rings and numerous wrestlers, then it can withstand regular one on one matches.”

“I can understand that, but what is it about the UNIFIED title, and in particular Troy Windham holding it that irritates you so much?” asked Rudy Seitzer “Well the UNIFIED title aspect I have already spoke about, that is my unfinished business, but Troy Windham is a person that really irritates me. Back when I was first in the CSWA the Windhams were like a standing joke, the dysfunctional family that everyone would gather round to gawk at and laugh at. There was always one member that seemed to generate more amusement than most…..Troy.” Stanley stared inside his tea cup for a few seconds before continuing. “It seems the moron of the Windham offspring, and let’s face it, if you are the biggest cretin in that gene pool then you aren’t exactly going to trouble MENSA, has developed into a tough, battle hardy wrestler. Back then he was seen as a guy who worked out to impress the women, increase his chance of sleeping with them and also winning the occasional match. Now I seem him, it seems nothing has changed yet he continues to hold the UNIFIED title.”

“And you have a problem with that?” asked Seitzer “No, not at all, I think personal development is a good thing, but the UNIFIED champion should be the face of your federation and company…..would you want Troy to represent you?” asked Stanley, laughing as Rudy automatically screwed up his face. “I believe he currently does.” said a resigned Rudy. “Exactly, your corporate and global voice is being spoken for by a guy who has been classed as educationally challenged for many a year now. He seems to have no respect for the title in the sense of its history and what it stands for, what it represents.”

“You’ve always had a thing for the historical element of this sport haven’t you?” laughed Seitzer. “Yes, but more look at the great champions who have once held the title. If you look at Windham’s reign there are lots of sickeningly brutal matches that he has come out of, but in terms of being a true all time great, he doesn’t possess the skills, not folding yet is impressive but soon he will realise that the past has a way of influencing and deciding the present.”

“That all sounds somewhat moody and threatening!” laughed Seitzer. “It wasn’t meant to be!” said Stanley “I just want the prestige and the following that the UNIFIED title enjoyed in previous years to be felt again.” Rudy nodded in agreement as if to show his thoughts, before he finally blurted out “What do you make of the other people already signed up for Gold Rush?” The Gent took his time to think through this one “I like the mix of youth and experience, high-fliers and ground based tacticians. Although its difficult to go into too much details until I know the final rings situation.”

Stanley and Seitzer spent the next twenty minutes discussing how they can contact one another for frequent interviews now Stanley was once again part of the CSWA. “Jeez is that the time? I have to check back in with the office, two minutes, I’ll square up for this tea.” Rudy started to scramble around for his wallet, finding everything but what he required. “Relax Rudy, I’m sure I can manage to get a couple of pots of tea!” Rudy thanked the Gent and put all his stuff away before bidding farewell to the Gent and running off.

“Ahh Rudy, will you ever have enough time?!?!” smirked Stanley as he too gathered up his belongings and prepared to make his way back to his home. He paused at the counter to look at the bill for twelve dollars, he pulled out a twenty and lay it on the bill and cheerfully saying his goodbyes to them all. As Stanley got outside he fished for his car keys, as he strode towards his Silver Bentley he finally found them and opened up and sat in the surprisingly cool black leather seats.

The mobile phone ring tone of God Save the Queen alerted Stanley he was required, he found his phone, remembered how to use it and put it to his ear. “Hello?” “Lawrence, its Alfred, I think I’ve…or rather….we have….run into a slight problem with our plans.” Stanley’s face scrunched up into one of confusion. “What do you mean?” “I’ll tell you7 when you get to mine old chap.” “Okay Alfred, I will be there in fifteen minutes.” Stanley closed his mobile and roared the Bentley into life.

To be continued.
 

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