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League Member
Jan 30, 2010
FADE IN. It was once again the wee hours of the morning, many after one Randall Beetwix had yet another lonely dinner in Tokyo. Returning back to his rented apartment, Randall found himself unable to make an international call to his lovely wife Evelin back in the States. Not because he couldn't, but mainly due to the time-zone difference. In a bid to rid his loneliness and the small bit of home-sickness, Randall engaged in some Dance Dance Revolution. Yes, indeed. Once he got bored of that, Randall sat down and pored through the stack of comics he had yet to read for over three weeks.

RANDALL: Ah ha! Take that, Nekron! Take that, Black Hand! I knew you could do it, Jordan and gang!

Randall beamed and put down his copy of DC's Blackest Night #8, the conclusion to the one of the best event comics in years. Feeling satisfied, Randall leaned back in his seat and looked at the clock. It should have been time to hit the sack. In fact, Beetwix should have been somewhere in La-La Land by now.

RANDALL: It's funny, I should really be asleep now. But I can't help think about the way things are and probably will be for time to come.

Here I am, in the heart of Japan. Chasing after what some may call a pipe dream. I prefer to term it as the start of my final hurrah; my run to the top. My career, my life's work, has been built on trading holds and suplexes with other sweaty guys in tight trunks, in the middle of a squared circle held up by ropes. I did not ask for the life I was given, but it was given to me nonetheless.

And with it, I did my best.

Beetwix reached forward to grab the television remote, but the index finger of his right hand merely lingered near the On/Off Button. There was an even bigger smile on his face now. Like as if he knew something nobody else in the world was privy to.

RANDALL: Heh. In about 28 hours, I will make my return to Isamu League. I believe the meaning of the world is akin to courage or bravery. That's what the Internet said. Which reminds me, my latest episode of Survivor should be done pretty soon. Can't live without my Survivor. I can't believe I'm two episodes behind!

For a second, Beetwix looked sad. Then, he jumped to his feet and rushed over to a corner table in the rather cramped apartment. His laptop was on the corner table, and whatever was on the screen made him clap his hands like a giddy schoolgirl just discovering the latest boyband craze.

From there, Beetwix turned around and laid eyes on the dance mat that he'd been using earlier when he was playing Dance Dance Revolution. A more solemn look crept onto his face, and Beetwix's left hand scratched at the bit of stubble that was forming on his chin.

RANDALL: Many weeks ago, I made my debut in Isamu League. I managed to turn back the challenge of the monstrous goldFISH, but in my excitable nature, I injured my ankle on my way out of the ring. Such a silly goose I am. Yet, I have recovered quickly. For a while there, I figured that the Gods were conspiring against me. I mean, I win my first match in a brand new promotion, in what is my very latest attempt to make something of myself as a wrestler, and I promptly injure myself.

Why, I should have been even more paranoid! But thanks to my darling all the way back in the good ol' US of A, I stuck to my guns. I underwent therapy, and I slowly built myself up. And see, I managed to even play some DDR earlier! I didn't beat the high-score, but I was close! Oh yes, I was. Besides, I already know when I'm going to beat the high score.

Beetwix flexed his biceps, in an attempt to look fierce and smug at the same time. It didn't work.

RANDALL: Just like I already know that on the third edition of Lessons In Bloodshed, my return shall be triumphant, and I shall continue to defy the odds! It seems my opponent was also unlucky enough to suffer an injury on the first edition of Lessons In Bloodshed, albeit his wasn't self-inflicted. But contrary to what people think, he's not been injured all that time.

Yes, Jonathan Marx. I have spies all over the world. Muahaha. Okay, so I just used the Internet to find out more about you. Seems like you're a busy bee, wrestling around the world and in a variety of promotions. I hear you're even the World Heavyweight Champion of SWIFT MMA. That's very cool. Overall, you seem like a respectable... gentleman. Ha, geddit?

Because you're 'Gentleman' Jonathan Marx? Geddit?

... Oh, whatever! Anyways, back to my incredibly roundabout point -- Jonathan, I'm sure you would LIKE to win on your return to Isamu League and begin your march to become the top dog here. But what you don't understand is that I however WANT to win. No, wait, that's not right.

I, in fact, NEED to win. It's more than a match to me. With every month that passes me by, I'm getting older and my body gets a little bit more worn down.

This is my last hurrah, Jonathan Marx. And therefore, I will do whatever I can to beat you. I may not be the most technically sound wrestler, but I will bring with me one thing I know I have. My heart.

That's all I can offer. My heart, filled with boundless energy and passion, and determination to win.

Beetwix took another look at the clock on the wall and nodded. It was just about time.

RANDALL: In conclusion, Jonathan Marx? I'm looking forward to our match. I'm sure you will be bringing your best arsenal. But just remember, I may be an old dog... but I have a new lease of life, and maybe some new tricks too. I've been watching clips of cool moves on YouTube. So anyways, it needs to be said.

Let's have a good one and tear the house down, Jonathan.

For now, it appears as if I have a date with my favourite show of all time!

Rubbing his palms together like an evil mastermind, Beetwix turned around and was delighted to find that his download of Survivor was complete. Also complete was the stirring proclaimation he'd been wanting to make for weeks, as it pertained to his livelihood. It appeared as if Randall Beetwix was once again back in the groove, and very committed to making his stay in Isamu League mean something. As he was many weeks ago, Randall Beetwix was a jovial camper, with seemingly nothing that could spoil his mood...

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