[MINNEAPOLIS] (2) Donovan Astros vs. (6) Fusenshoff

[TH]

Regional semifinal matchup held at the Target Center in Minneapolis, MN.

One fall to a finish, no time limit, all regular rules apply. Deadline is Friday, April 25th @ 11:59:59 PM EDT, give or take a second.

 

[jamesfnx]

Fade into Stately Astros Manor in Los Angeles, where Donovan Astros is relaxing comfortably, getting ready for a hectic weekend. Friday night it's Dallas for Warfare on the Ocho, and later that weekend it's off to Minneapolis for the round of sixteen of the TEAM Invitational Tournament. So far in the TiT, there hasn't been a lot of disruption in Astros's path, with laughers over the Sheephumper and MaX-Files. Other than a visit from Frankie Scott's crazed squirrel, it's been a very uneventful tournament so far for the self-proclaimed "greatest wrestler on God's green Earth." It's for the best, because while some opponents have had a hard road, Astros is pretty fresh and ready to take on the remaining four rounds.

First up on the march through Minneapolis to Atlanta? Fusenshoff, last year's Sweet Sixteen hit who took Dan Ryan to the limit. We're at the round of sixteen this year, and Donovan Astros looks to repeat Fusenshoff's history.

ASTROS - I'd love to say it's been a hard road to Minneapolis... but it hasn't. Two little *****es and an overactive squirrel later, here I am, one week away from the match America wants to see. Donovan Astros vs. Dan Ryan, that's the sort of match this tournament was made for, the sort of match that sells out arenas all across the country... the sort of match promotions are afraid to put together 'cause they'll never be able to top it! We're not quite there yet, though, are we? There's still one man in the way of that confrontation.

Astros shrugs his shoulders. It's not a foregone conclusion as much as he'd like it to be.

ASTROS - Fusenshoff, Fusenshoff, Fusenshoff... where do I begin with you? I guess by getting your name right.

A quick chuckle from the face of greatness.

ASTROS - I kinda enjoyed looking over tape of your little *****fight with High Flyer about your name and his... lack of education, let's put it. A bigger man, a smarter man, a more dedicated man, he might worry about what his opponent is going to do to him inside the squared circle, but not you, Fusenshoff. Maybe you were confident about winning against High Flyer... a confidence well deserved after watching your match with him. But you shouldn't have that sort of confidence this week, Fusenshoff, because Donovan Astros is a world apart from some generic high flyer.

Astros smirks. The man's confident if nothing else.

ASTROS - You see, Fusenshoff, where a guy like High Flyer might mask his inability to, you know... actually beat you with goofy crap and smoke and mirrors, I'm just gonna do what I always do. Take time, study the opponent, and beat them like a redheaded stepchild. I haven't been challenged much in this tournament, and really, that shouldn't come as a surprise, Max Hopper got beaten to within an inch of his life by a World Champion caliber talent in round one and had nothing left. As for my first round opponent...

Astros shudders.

Sex. With sheep. Eww.

A moment to regain composure. This isn't the sort of image you quickly get out of your mind.

ASTROS - So what makes you different than either of those two men, Fusenshoff? I can only hope your choice of intimate partners is much more... human... and your choice of careers is much more dignified than "paranormal investigator in Mom's basement." From what I know about you, you make your living here in TEAM and nowhere else. You thrive off showing up the top wrestlers in the world by beating them on a neutral field, the rings of TEAM. And when you're not doing that, you're drinking your life away. I'm sure you've heard it all before about how you're wasting natural talent with booze and hard living, and you probably don't give a damn what other people have to say at this point. So if you're not worried about your addictions, I'm not worried about them either. You're just going to be another opponent to me, nothing more, nothing less, another stepping stone on my way to the Merritt Trophy.

Astros thinks for a moment about the end of this road, the Merritt Trophy, and victory over 63 other men, women, and sheephumpers. He can't help but smile ear to ear, basking in all the glory he believes is coming his way.

ASTROS - Fusenshoff, it's in your court now. There's a wrestling lesson scheduled just for you at the Target Center in one week's time... either you've got what it takes to stop the greatest wrestler on God's green Earth, or you don't. Quite frankly, big man, I don't think you do.

Astros walks out of the room as we fade to black.

 

[Fusenshoff]

”It is easy to go down into hell; night and day the gates of dark death stand wide; but to climb back up again, to retrace one’s steps to the open air, there lies the problem, the difficult task.”
- Virgil: The Aeneid

Fade in to Fusenshoff sitting on the shores of Lake of the Isles in Southwest Minneapolis, just yards away from the later residence of Benjamin Franklin. The moon is full as its light gleams off the lake. The camera pans to Fusenshoff, sitting in the grass with a flask next to him.

Fusenshoff: “It’s been almost a year and a half now since my arrival in the professional wrestling entertainment industry. At the time I was drowning away my sorrows… circumventing my past. One phone call from a close friend gave me purpose in life.

“Ace Mason needed a tag partner in MBE. You can count my good qualities on one hand if you’re an amputee, but I’ve always been loyal. Next thing you know I’m sober for the first time in a year and a half. I’m feeding knuckle sandwiches to a redneck in spurs and assless chaps named “Cowboy” Jimmy Donovan…

“I loved every minute of it.

“Then the strangest thing happens. This feeling comes over me that I haven’t felt since one very fateful night. I remember it like seeing your first crush from kindergarten in the mall… and she’s a knockout. It’s a spider, creeping up on me when I least expect it and laying more web with each appearance. Every once in a while… on the rarest of occasions… whether sober or hammered… it hits like a storm….

“I feel happy. And hope.

“Hope like maybe I can turn my life around. Hope like maybe I don’t have to live with these demons. Hope like maybe I can pick up where I left off.

“And then images flash through my head in succession so swift I salivate over the scenes. I’m playing in the big game on Saturdays. I’m eyeing a beautiful blonde a few rows up as she seductively nibbles her pen. There are late nights in the library discussing Nietzsche with friends. I’m dancing at a club as my blonde rests her head on my shoulder. I’m graduating with honors the same day I’m drafted in the NFL…

“I see my sister’s body crumpled in half with shards of windshield through her neck and pelvis…”

Fusenshoff bows his head between his legs as the moonlight shifts and leaves just his silhouette visible in the dark night. The cameraman knows he should hit the light attached to the camcorder, but he hesitates. He waits for movement from Fusenshoff. The alcoholic wrestler palms the flask by his side and as the whiskey hits his lips the light flips on. He takes his time before continuing.

Fusenshoff: “My mind is playing tricks only the devil could conjure. I sink further into my hole as that ray of hope glimmers dimmer in the distance.”

Fusenshoff takes another swig as his liquor runs out. He looks at the flask in his hand before tossing it out into the Lake of the Isles. Pausing to watch the rippling effect of the toss, Fusenshoff falls heavily onto the grass and continues.

Fusenshoff: “This tease called false hope is starting to consume my being. Pummeling others legally started out as a crutch to keep me from the cowardice of suicide. It distracted me from the pain. I could live in the moment for the first time. I was beginning to think it was the path to rehabilitation. I was wrong…

“It’s become an addiction… a curse. The rage, the supreme focus, the intensity is insatiable. All I’ve known is alcoholism to stifle the suffering for almost a decade. Then I found wrestling… my salvation. All my pain vanishes and is replaced with seemingly divine clarity. I have but one purpose, one motivation in that ring… survival. Last longer than another man. Yet this desire and ambition is so much more powerful than numbing inebriation. It’s all-consuming and infectious beyond any measure I could’ve accounted for.

“I thought wrestling could cure me of my ills… instead it has reinforced the foundation of my disease with impenetrable mortar.

“My next challenge manifests itself in you Donovan. John Adams said ‘People and nations are forged in the fires of adversity’. Say what you will about the fresh legs you have from waltzing through the first two rounds of the TiT. I promise you the road is all uphill from here.

“Then again you don’t need to take my word for it. You’ve already scoped out the path yourself. You have your sights set on Dan Ryan, the number one seed in our bracket. I’m gravely disappointed Astros.

“Ravager made the same mistake you’re making last year. He saw an epic battle brewing between himself and Chris Casino just one round ahead. Fate, it seems, can be a fickle bedfellow.

“I’ve seen from your friend Duchess how easy it is to distract you. You’ve already let her into your head over in A1E with your fretting over omens and portents. You’ve admitted to performing at 80% of your true skill to her. Maybe that’s enough to get you a pinfall sometimes. Please…. Please…. PLEASE don’t try that sh*t with me. There’s nothing I despise more than lambasting a potentially praiseworthy foe.

“You’re strutting into oncoming traffic Astros, so let me stop you at the curb. It’s time to start reassessing your strategy.”

Fusenshoff starts waving his hands above his head like a raving lunatic. He stops and the look in his eyes is intense.

Fusenshoff: “I’m right here Donovan. I’m not sporting sunglasses at night. I’m not wearing a Zero shirt. My hair isn’t cut short and I’m not your one-way ticket to bragging rights few can claim. I can promise that if you don’t snap out of it right now, the salubrious condition you feel to be so advantageous will be as short-lived as Hugh Hefner’s hard-ons.”

“I’ll punch your ticket for a date with the Ego Buster. I ask for only one thing in return. Look me in the eyes at the Target Center. Witness me summoning every ounce of fortitude I possess to leave you defeated in that ring. Realize that there is nothing more important to me than leaving everything I am with you.

“Beat that, and Ryan or no, the Elite Eight is yours.”

Fade out as Fusenshoff simply falls backward onto the heap of grass and stares at the moon.

 

[jamesfnx]

Where the willingness is great, the difficulties cannot be great. - Niccolo Machiavelli, Il Principe

Inside Axel's Restaurant in the suburbs of Minneapolis, Donovan Astros is sitting back, enjoying a quiet dinner alone and taking a break from training for Fusenshoff and the round of sixteen in the TEAM Invitational Tournament. Astros picks up a glass of wine and smiles at the camera.

ASTROS - Before we tear each other apart with words meant to sever and attack on each other's pride and dignity, Fusenshoff, a toast to our continued success, you as EPW Television Champion, me as the 2008 Merritt Trophy winner and sole survivor of the TEAM Invitational Tournament.

Astros lifts his glass towards the camera, then take a sip of wine.

ASTROS - Now that that's all settled, Fusenshoff... maybe we got off on the wrong foot. I didn't expect you to be watching me in A1E... hell, with the amount of press they've given me there, I'm shocked ANYONE'S watching what I'm doing there. But what I do there and what I do here, those are two completely different animals. There I'm swimming in the malaise of mediocrity, trying to bob my head up above the surface every once in a while and shout out, "Hey! Look at me! I'm the best wrestler you could ever hope to have on your roster and you're still spoonfeeding fans the same old crap!" Do I think that eighty percent of Donovan Astros beats one hundred percent of Duchess? Hell yes I do. Do I think that eighty percent of Donovan Astros beats one hundred percent of Fusenshoff? Not a chance. Unfortunately for you, Fuse, you're getting one hundred percent of Donovan Astros.

The wine glass is tilted once more to Astros's lips.

ASTROS - The difference between here and A1E, between here and NAPW, between here and anywhere else I go, Fusenshoff, it's night and day. Here, I don't have to worry about what the Match-O-Matic spits out and whose ass I have to kiss. I don't have to play the politics game here, I just have to beat people. I keep winning, I keep advancing. Other places, you could win for weeks, months, YEARS, and never see the fruits of your labor. Here, it's all about six matches. You win six matches and you're the Merritt Trophy holder. It doesn't matter who those six opponents are, whether they be the biggest, baddest men and women in the game or... the Sheephumper. So am I overlooking you this week in Minneapolis? Yes and no.

Astros sets the wine glass down.

ASTROS - Fusenshoff, I know what it's gonna take to beat you. Everything I've got for as long as it takes. You're a wrestling prodigy, you've got thirty some-odd pounds on me and a lot more physical strength than I'll ever hope to have. But you are beatable, just like everyone else in this world. Just like our heroes, our legends, just like insignificant little me. We all lose, Fusenshoff, but I'm damned sure not ready to, not to you, not to Dan Ryan, not to anyone else in this tournament. This is my Super Bowl, my World Title, my raison d'etre because I don't have NAPW anymore, and A1E is about as forward thinking as the Fundamentalist LDS. This is all I have, and Fusenshoff, you're not going to be the one to take it away from me.

Astros snarls.

ASTROS - You want all of my attention, Fusenshoff? You got it. But it's not because you're unique, not by any means. You have my attention because you are next. You are the next hurdle to overcome. You are the next mountain to climb. You are the next thing standing between me and what I need. And you will be overcome, just like every obstacle before, and just like every obstacle after. Nothing personal, no slight against you, just the reality of the situation. Better luck next year.

Astros picks up the wine glass and lifts it up towards the camera again as we fade to black.

 

[Fusenshoff]

Fade in to Fusenshoff in front of a TEAM backdrop. His jet black hair covers half his face. He’s wearing a wife beater under a leather jacket and black pants. He’s sitting on a stool with his hands on his thighs; the British and Canadian flags on his inner forearms can’t be seen by the cameras.

Fusenshoff: “Let me start with a compliment. Great quote, Astros. I heard that at the beginning of the promo and I felt my blood pump just a little faster than normal. 1500 years after Virgil we have a nice contradiction from our dear friend Niccolò. It reminds me of Napoleon Hill’s edict that one can succeed at anything as long as one has a ‘burning desire’ to achieve it. From your words it seems that may be true of your passion to win the Merritt Trophy.

“Yet your actions speak to the contrary. Sure, you’re not content with your ‘mediocrity’ in A1E, but you don’t seem to be doing much about it. Whining and moaning about it is like spouting Feminist rhetoric at a rodeo… nobody cares.

“You’re battling for glory over there, running on eighty percent when the mood strikes and you want main event status. Sounds kind of ridiculous when it’s put in perspective, eh? Now you’re toasting to your Merritt trophy win already. You blow more smoke than Erik Black did last Sunday.

“Hey man, thanks for noticing my match at Black Dawn. Amazing the clarity a little time brings. Just two days ago you said “you make your living in TEAM and nowhere else.” Oops…

“And just to add a little fuel to the inferno, I’ll go back to your match with Max X-Files. You said ‘I've done what I go and do every time I face the unknown. I don't cower from it, I research it.’ Yeah Astros, you sure can research an opponent. I feel like I’m watching a parody of a Genesis concert every time you speak…

‘I can’t dance, I can’t walk,
Only thing about me is the way I talk.
I can’t dance, I can’t sing,
I’m just spinning and upselling everything’

“Classic case here. The cliché is true. Where there’s smoke…

“At least you haven’t made the mistake of clamoring on about your Dan Ryan obsession. Nipping that one in the bud was the right move. I’m glad you took my advice and refocused your energies. No sense rebutting my disclosure of your faux-pas, it’s better to just pretend it never happened and move on. I won’t bring it up again either unless provoked.

“You’re right; I want everything you have when we weave through the ropes. You’ll be more of a challenge if I get your Concerta prescription filled and stay on the straight and narrow path. You said it’s unfortunate for me that you’re finally focused on the next hurdle to your vaunted venerability already preordained as TiT Champion. Astros, if you’ve researched anything about me, you’d know I’m not in this tournament to win hardware. I compete because, as you felt the need to cry and complain about earlier, you don’t battle main eventers in most feds without years of service. Frankly, there’s no better way to compete against such diverse and challenging opponents as this tournament. Sure, there’s trophy if you win the whole thing, but the point is to prove what you’re capable of to yourself. That’s all that really matters.

“Your inexhaustible proclamations about being a great athlete and wrestler are often vindicated. I’m glad you took my warnings so seriously because you have the potential to truly test my mettle. I like the whole ‘this is all I have’ angle you’re going for now. You’re blowing enough smoke now to fumigate Fort Knox, but at least it’s a good mindset to really pose a challenge.

“The truth is you’ll still have A1E, you’ll still have the Lethal Lottery Tag Titles. You’ll still have a banked ToC berth. There you can once again talk yourself into a corner, rely on false confidence while your mind is somewhere else in the ring and make silly claims you’ll find are much more difficult to prove than say.

“But hey, no worries. You’re the ‘greatest wrestler on God’s green Earth.’ You’ll get it together and pull through. No sweat.”

Fade out as Fusenshoff gets off the stool. The look on his face is serene. He looks as focused as he’s been since entering the industry a year and a half ago.

 

[jamesfnx]

Inside an old gym, smoke fills the air. A spotlight shines down on a wrestling ring, and peering through the smoke is Donovan Astros, geared up and ready for his round of sixteen match with Fusenshoff this weekend at the Target Center in Minneapolis. Astros is leaning over the top rope and breathing deliberately, causing swirls of smoke to fly around the room and away from his face. He doesn't look happy at all about the events of this week, and he's staring daggers through the camera lens.

ASTROS - I don't get what you want from me, Fusenshoff. Do you want all this smoke that you say I'm blowing goin' up your ass? Am I not singing your praises enough?

Astros stands up straight and deepens his voice, as if to make a proclamation.

ASTROS - The Mighty Fusenshoff! Slayer of Tiamat, holder of the EPW Television Championship from this day until the end of time! Smarter than Albert Einstein, stronger than Titan himself!

Astros leans back over the top rope, rolling his eyes.

ASTROS - Is that what you're really looking for out of me, Fuse? You're barking up the wrong God damned tree then, 'cause I've never really made my living off of kissing other people's asses, and I'm not really looking to turn a new leaf today.

Astros rubs his face trying to think of what to say next. To him, talking to Fusenshoff is like talking to a brick wall.

ASTROS - Fusenshoff, let's get real for a minute. All that matters to you is to prove what you're capable of to yourself? Don't you already know what you're capable of? We are not ever-changing, ever-evolving beings, my man! I didn't just magically become some self-absorbed, single-minded opportunistic son of a ***** overnight. This tournament isn't about me telling myself what I'm capable of, becuase believe you me, Fusenshoff, when it comes to winning a match, I'm capable of anything. Being in this tournament... this is about showing the rest of the wrestling world who I am, what I do, and what I'm capable of. And it's all the same, every time, Fuse. Bell rings, match ends, Astros win.

Astros stands back up off the ropes, arms raised in triumph.

ASTROS - This, Fusenshoff, this is all the world needs to see of me. Victory. Dominance. Greatness... that's what Donovan Astros is all about. I don't need any God damned spiritual journey to tell me I'm a winner, because I already know it. Against every opponent I step in the ring with, I already see myself victorious in my mind. And why do I do that, chief? If you think about losing, if you pace around worrying about failing, if you're not looking dead on to your next obstacle and how to overcome it, you're already doomed. You end up a dismal shell of a man, always looking over your shoulder waiting for the next disaster to happen. You hide your pain in booze and drugs and let your life spiral out of control, every last moment of joy slipping further and further away from your fingertips.

Astros smirks as he leans back over the rope. Something just came to him.

ASTROS - Maybe that's what's got you so fired up, Fusenshoff. What little bit of pride you have left that hasn't disappeared in that flask of yours, you see it in me. That cutthroat determination. The killer instinct. Some God damned self-respect! Instead of seeing glory, fame, fortune, you see images of your dead sister rushing through your mind. Put the bottle down, grow a set, and face your reality this weekend in the Target Center. Look at it square in the face. Let the air clear from all the 'smoke and mirrors' you think I'm blasting around and see what the Hell you're really dealing with. The greatest wrestler on God's green Earth, arrogant, boastful, and eminently capable.

Astros snarls at the camera. Unlike Fusenshoff, he's not serene. He's angry. His cheeks are flushed and he's breathing heavily. Something's gotten under his skin.

ASTROS - Fusenshoff, my mind isn't on A1E or the Lethal Lottery titles or the Tournament of Champions. Right here, right now, it's on you and you alone. You've gotten exactly what you wanted out of me. Now you're going to have to deal with it.

Astros sneers at the camera as we fade to black.

 

[Fusenshoff]

Fade in to Fusenshoff sitting outside the Target Center in Minneapolis, MN. He’s taking sips from a bottle of blackjack. The arena is an enormous structure larger than the eyes can fully take in. It’s quite a sight. Yet Fusenshoff hasn’t even seen the top of this coliseum. He is staring at the door. He’s visualizing his path into the arena, just as he visualizes the match like he did against High Flyer and every other opponent he’s ever faced.

Fusenshoff: “Don’t play the fool Astros. It doesn’t suit you. You’ve known what I want since my first appearance this week. Once again, you’ve made a promise. To win, this time you’ll have to cash that promise.

“Finally it seems your mind is in order. God only knows if it’s for real this time. You’ve pitted your focus on He Who Shall Not Be Named then changed your mind after some schooling from yours truly. Then it was the whole, I’m desperate and hungry, this is all I have. That didn’t work too well either did it? So now it’s ‘All my focus is on your sir’, this is it, this is the next match. Yeah sounds kind of familiar… sounds kind of like me.

“Yet still something’s missing. In fact, it’s the very thing you’ve attempted to defeat my argument with. You’re fighting to prove to the world that you’re the best. You’re in it for the reputation. You want the acknowledgement from others that you’re the real deal. You want to show the world what you’re capable of.

“My how foolish one can be at times.

“You posit that I already know what I’m capable of. I always surprise myself in that ring. My body constantly tells me I’ve had enough. It hangs over me in every match. It tells me I can’t go on any longer. It says I’m done. It tells me to throw in the towel and stay down. Then my mental toughness takes over. It orders ‘You won’t stay down’! You will kick out of this. You will not be deceived by the aches, the pain, the suffering, the anguish that your body feels. Then the bell rings and most of the time my hand is raised. I walk up the stage and I realize I’m more capable than I ever thought.

“Maybe that’s not the case for you Donovan. I won’t assume anything, but I’ll guess why you know exactly what you’re capable of. There’s a point where your body takes over. I says, no one can survive this. No one will berate you for losing this one. I can’t take anymore.

“That’s okay Donovan. No one will fault you for this. People do it everyday. You can make a fine living and a great career by living this way.

“But you’re learning my friend. You’re starting to get it. You said ‘if you're not looking dead on to your next obstacle and how to overcome it, you're already doomed’. Much better. That wasn’t your approach at the beginning of this promo period, but you learn from your mistakes. I feel like we’re making some real progress here Astros. There’s hope for you yet.

“I have everything I wanted out of you. That’s 100% correct. You’re absolutely right about that Astros. We’ve removed the distractions. You’re ready to give me everything you have in that ring. Those are your words paraphrased. They’re just words, but I have reason to hope.

“For your development over the course of our time together, I’ll give you a gift. I’ll return the favor and give you the same thing- everything I have. I give it to everybody I face, so it’s not a rare gift. In fact you earned it just by making it this far. Still, you’ll find it’s the greatest reward you’ve ever received. If you win, and you back up your talk, the euphoria you’ll feel for such an accomplishment- fighting a man past his threshold and coming out the victor- will be insurmountable to anything this world can give or take. Trust me.

“The last lesson will be face-to-face. The true test. It’s pass or fail. The study session is over.”

Fade out while Fusenshoff is still staring at the door he will enter on the night of the match. He tosses a finished bottle of Jack Daniels into a trash can nearby and walks away.