Champ Life.

By: Ricky Rodriguez

Writing Prompt: Yes

Date: 15th Apr 2022

Dave didn’t see it, my foot on the rope..but the official did. He thought he won, totally began the celebration and everythin. And then he got told what happened. He never saw it comin. I slipped up behind’em and just like that. Real Style. One. Two. Three. AND NEWWWW! It was my moment. It was everythin I worked so hard to achieve. I had finally done it. But it only got better from there.


Miss F, she knew I was curious as fuck bout what was in that briefcase. Hell, everyone was, I’m sure. As I was celebratin finally gettin that validation I needed sooo fuckin badly, there she came. She came out to let me and everyone else know what was in my briefcase. The Bloodloss Championship.


It was a game changer, to say the least. With that Championship, I got the ability to steal someone’s Blood Money. The more I defend it, the more I can take. That’s fuckin huge. That’s power. That’s my power. Talk about a bargainin chip. Whether they know it or’s my game now.


Ricky had replayed those thoughts, those moments, mentally several times since the conclusion of Venom Nineteen. Where, in one night, Ricky had went from being someone who had just started finding his stride to becoming a two belt champion. It hadn’t even been that long but this caused things to pick up significantly for young Ricky.


He sat in front of a brightly lit vanity, even more so at the mirror in front of him. A young lady, probably around Ricky’s age, was applying this and that to his face. It gave him that whole feeling of being pampered.


One of the things that increase with a championship around your waist is the demand for you to be in front of a camera. Today was no different. Ricky had been lined up to film for a commercial and it was almost time to begin filming for it.


Anyone who had known Ricky for more than a few hours knew how much he loved Legos. There was just something about them. The way they started out as just a pile of..pieces. But once you started figuring out how those pieces came together and actually put in the work of fitting those pieces together, you were left with something great.


There was a metaphor there, one that rang totally true with Ricky. Once he sat down and figured out how the pieces came together, something great was built. He, himself, was that project. All of those pieces finally were together and here he sat, in the process of getting ready to film a small part in a commercial for the very company that brought him so much happiness over the years.


The commercial was a simple one, at least. They wanted to promote the fact that Legos were for people of every age. So, in that commercial, that very foundation was on display. Three portions. A child, an adult, someone in their middle ages, and an elderly person. Each one of them is to be shown putting together those little plastic bricks.


By the time the lady was finished, it was Ricky’s time to be filmed. For this part, he was wearing his wrestling gear, seated on a set that was designed to look like the interior of his locker room. He had just gone through a hellacious match and needed the one thing that could center him after such a match: Legos.


He sat, criss-cross applesauce, in the middle of that ‘locker room’, a pile of Lego bricks in front of him. In each hand, Ricky held one in each hand before looking at the camera with that bright, almost childlike smile of his.


Ricky Rodriguez: ‘I do it.’


And as soon as those three simple words left his lips, he connected those two pieces and the director called that it was good. Ricky couldn’t help but to feel a bit proud of himself as he got up to his feet and began walking off of the set. Knocked it out on the first try.


He and the director shared a few words before Ricky got sent on his way. Going back to the changing room, Ricky got out of his trunks and gear before slipping back into his torn denim jeans and black t-shirt. Grabbing up his bag, he took his leave from the studio.


As soon as he made his way outside, his face just lit up at first sight of his good friend, Marisol Vilaro. The two walked up to each other, sharing a tight hug. Parting after a couple moments, Ricky looked her up and down, laughing a bit. It was clear she had just come from the gym. Her dark hair was tied up in a messy bun, while her lower half was covered with a pair of black skin tight leggings that really accentuated her curves, and finally a matching sports bra that revealed a good bit of cleavage and her toned stomach. 


Ricky Rodriguez: ‘Damn, you really don’t stop, do you?’


Marisol Vilaro: ‘Nope!’


They both laughed as Marisol shook her head before playfully punching Ricky in the arm. 


Marisol Vilaro: ‘Figured I would take you out for lunch after your big commercial! It’s a huge break for you and we need to celebrate it. There’s this really great spot not too far from here.’


He could hear how proud she was of him in her voice. Nodding his head firmly, he teasingly held his arm out. Marisol, of course, followed suit, hooking her arm in Ricky’s. 


Ricky Rodriguez: ‘Lead the way, Ms. Inspiration.’


She shot Ricky a smile as the two began to walk down that sidewalk, headed off towards their destination. They shared small talk along the way before finally reaching the small bistro owned and operated by a local farmer’s market. Only the freshest ingredients and highest of quality for someone as near obsessed with fitness as Marisol is.


The two get settled in at a table pretty quickly, the hostess recognizing them both from their fairly active wrestling careers, which was something entirely new for Ricky. Ricky and Marisol even took the time to take a couple pictures for her, showing their appreciation for someone who was a pretty big fan of theirs.


Marisol Vilaro: ‘They’ve got the best salad I’ve ever had here.’


Ricky Rodriguez: ‘With a recommendation like that, I totallyyy gotta try it. I’ll have the same.’


She nodded her head before walking off to put their order in. The two of them continued their small talk before Marisol drifted off into the more serious talks.


Marisol Vilaro: ‘So, Cassie Lopez in a tournament match in Zion. Your first Bloodloss defense in Fight. How’s your training been going? Think you’re ready for it?’


He thought about it for a moment, really letting those thoughts focus in for a moment. Even as their salads were brought to them, Ricky still thought about it.


Ricky Rodriguez: ‘I am, actually. I’m done playin Cassie’s stupid ass little game and I’m gonna put her on her ass. Gateway Championship is gonna be mine, Mari. Ain’t a single doubt in my mind bout it.’


Marisol nodded her head in agreement. 


Marisol Vilaro: ‘There shouldn’t be. You’re going into this match against her with more momentum than anyone else. You’re at the top of your game and I couldn’t be more proud and happy for you.’


Ricky Rodriguez: ‘It’s thanks to you tho. You’ve been one of my biggest supporters. You’ve pushed me harder than anyone else has, Mari. It’s the reason I’m goin into my first ever title defense without a worry in the world. I know I got this cause of the things I’ve been learnin from you, y’know? And Ima take everythin I learned and I’m gonna defend my championship against him.’


Once more, Marisol nodded her head in agreement. The two finished their salads, Marisol paying for them, before they made their way outside.


Marisol Vilaro: ‘Ricky, I really am proud of you, with how great you’ve been doing. This is going to be the first of many successful defenses. There really is no limit on what you can achieve.’


The words she spoke had Ricky grinning from ear to ear. Another hug, this one a bit more closer and tighter held, they let it linger for a few moments before finally parting. Saying their goodbyes, the two went their separate ways, putting an end to a fairly uneventful lunch. At least, uneventful on this end.


Meanwhile, across town at the apartment of Big Ass Bobby, he and Alessa Holloway were seated at the kitchen table. The two of them were deep in conversation about none other than Ricky Rodriguez.


Alessa Holloway: ‘Him winning those championships really sped everything along. You can almost see the confidence dripping from him. And from there comes the arrogance. Not to mention, Marisol’s influence and your little stunt at Day of Reckoning are starting to open his eyes to the any means necessary mentality he needs for the next step.’


All the while, Bobby kept his mouth shut, not uttering a word nor showing any sort of reaction to what Alessa was saying.


Alessa Holloway: ‘It really is only a matter of time until he comes into it. And it’s getting and closer with every day that passes. Even if she knows it or not, Jennie’s been a big help with all of this too. Leaving him him permission to fall into that lifestyle then snatching him out of it once he grew a taste for it.’


Big Ass Bobby: ‘Careful with that one, Alessa. Her doing that is still weighing pretty heavy on his mind. He misses those two.’


Alessa Holloway: ‘More of a push, I’d say. We’re close, Bobby. Closer than we’ve ever been before. Let’s keep it going.’


Bobby hesitated, only for a moment, before giving her a firm nod of his head. Alessa picked up her glass of wine before raising it up, taking a drink from it as Bobby watched on.




It wasn’t just the commercial that Ricky was to do on this pretty nice day. After he said his goodbyes to Marisol, Ricky moved to the next item on his agenda: A podcast appearance. Ricky was familiar with the hosts, a young couple who were huge wrestling fans, actually being brought together because of it.


Ricky had been contacted by them and after a pretty lengthy conversation well beforehand, Ricky had signed on to do an interview with them. The day had come to go through with it. In all honesty, Ricky always found himself nervous as hell in these kinds of situations. Would he say something stupid? Something he shouldn’t say at all?


But this time was different. There really could be a number of factors that led to this newfound confidence, but Ricky didn’t care what caused it. He was just into the feeling. Arriving at his intended location, Ricky knew this was going to be right up his alleyway. It wasn’t a big fancy studio or set or anything like that, it was just a couple stoners in their garage.


He knocked on the front door and was greeted almost instantly. The couple were visibly ecstatic to see him and were quick to welcome him into their home. It didn’t take long for the three of them to make their way into the garage where their streaming equipment was set up.


As opposed to the rolling chairs that were usually used in these situations, this team used big ass bean bag chairs. To say Ricky was stoked to see this was a huge understatement. They had him pick whichever he wanted to sit at and he randomly plopped down onto it, giggling like a child as he did so. The couple, Leonard and Dahlia Wheeler had already had a few blunts rolled up for them, the short brown haired male passing them out to his black haired wife and Ricky. 


She got the equipment rolling before her and her husband took their seats. Lighting up hers first, she tossed the lighter to Ricky who did the same before tossing it to the husband. They went through their usual opening bit while Ricky took a couple hits off of his blunt, making an already enjoyable experience that much more so.


Dahlia Wheeler: ‘And without further ado, here’s our guest for tonight’s show. Members of our Patreon are already well of this, but joining us this evening is a two belt champion, the current Fight!NYC Bronx and Bloodloss Champion. He’s been absolutely tearing it up in Liberty Pro Wrestling and Zion Wrestling. Ladies, gentlemen, and all the above: Ricky Rodriguez.


Ricky Rodriguez: ‘Heyyy everybody~ How y’all doin this evenin?’


Leonard Wheeler: ‘Dude, we couldn’t be better. We’re so happy to have you on the show. Especially now since you’re living that champ life.’


The trio laughed aloud, Ricky nodding his head in agreement.


Ricky Rodriguez: ‘Nah, it’s been great tho. But you’re right, things have totallyyy picked up since I walked outta the last Venom as a double champion. Not just a single champion but a fuckin double champion. Do you know how fuckin great this feels? Like..I have busted my ass for soo long and it’s finally paid off, y’know?


It’s like..people can say whatever they wanna say to you and yeah, sometimes it’ll make you feel incredibly fuckin great. But this? Actually havin somethin you can hold in your hands..somethin you can hold above your head. That’s fuckin validation on a wholeee nother level.’


One thing about Ricky, once he got going, it was hard to get him to stop. Sometimes even to the point of rambling. This time was no different.


Ricky Rodriguez: ‘And it’s not just the Bronx Championship either. This Bloodloss Championship. It’s somethin that’s gonna change the whole landscape. All those people at the top with their five digit Blood Money amounts, they’re takin notice now. They fuckin see me. And at Venom 20? They’re gonna see me defend my Bloodloss Championship.


They’re gonna see me absolutely run this two year undefeated streak. As great as Dystopia is? I’m here now and I’ve got absolutely no fuckin problem kickin any and everyone outta my way to stay here, y’know? These are mine now. Nobody else’s. 


I’m gonna build my Bloodloss Championship until it can totally wipe someone out. I’m here to make the Brox Championship somethin that everyone wants a piece of. But none of’em are gonna take it. Now that I’ve got’em, I got my arms around tight and the only way they’re gonna get it is from my cold..dead..hands.’


Dahlia Wheeler: ‘Wow. That was..’


Leonard Wheeler: ‘Intense.’


The three of them continued smoking it up and enjoying the conversation. What usually would have been a very stressful experience had turned out to be one of the most fun ones Ricky had ever been apart of. This was the life he wanted. The life he worked so hard for. The champ life.