Pop Goes The Weasel

By: Asher Jules

Date: 24th Aug 2021

 

”So I may have, in the smallest of ways, caused this..” The gym at Susan E Wagner high school was as packed as it normally was for the Staten Island Wrestling Alliance, which is to say there were about sixteen people spread out sporadically, looking at their phones and waiting for their friend to come out and make a fool of themselves. A plump gentleman stands at the back hocking terrible quality copies of previous shows that no one attended either. In the ring a skinny blonde haired man who has very little hair and even less talent, stands in a pair of tiktok leggings and a mesh t-shirt. If the people in the crowd were paying attention theyíd also notice that there were sweat stains in every inch of the leggings. As if heíd not washed them at all, ever. The boombox placed nearest a microphone began to play ĎGunslingerí by Avenged Sevenfold. From behind a curtain that is more for showers than for wrestling, a small man appears. He is dressed in a turquoise suit with rhinestones, and a tan mask with a large bushy mustache and eyebrows on it. He walks down the isle with an unlit cigar wagging behind his fingers, El Mutante following closely behind. The announcer pulls the PA system microphone away from the radio, and announces him as Groucho El Goucho. The man walks past his opponent, who might as well be named Ďsweaty crotch.í He takes the microphone from the man who is literally 99 percent pizza grease, and sits on the turnbuckle, addressing the 15 people in the audience, and the other guy who picked now to go to the bathroom.

Groucho El Goucho
I have to say Iíve seen better gatherings at car accidents. I came out here tonight to beat this man within an inch of his life, but Iíve seen what he does during the day and it doesnít count. Also I left my tape measure at home. I donít want to be too insulting to this man, heís a great motivator. Everytime I see him he motivates me to look away. He has worked hard. Look at him, he worked his way up from nothing to nothing but in a different career. Of course heís very talented. Youíre about to see that for yourself as long as you keep your eyes closed. I kid around folks, but seriously. This guy and I have a lot in common. We both hope he never sees me again. Alright letís get this over with before the rest of you get to the bathroom.

As the Cowboy Comedian leaps off the turnbuckle, a beat passes and we see him backstage, laying on a massage table with an icepack on his mask. A pair of hands pull his cowboy boots off of him, and at the same time almost rips him off the table. Sitting up, the cowboy pulls his mask off, revealing himself to be Asher JulesÖ.the…well, thatís it. Heís just Asher.

Asher
Ďareful yeh piece of shit. Almost pulled me leg right out.

Mutante
Donít you cry to me, Culo. I told you to put baby oil in there to stop the sweat from making it stick.

Asher
I donít like the way it feels Ďtween me toes, chubster! Why am I wearing fucking cowboy boots anyway? Isnít this a bit far to sell it?

Mutante
YOU HAVE ANKLE TATTOOS! If you want to do this right you will hide all marks. What kind of a man has a dolphin tattoo anyway.

Asher
…thatís not a dolphin. Itís a smiley face.

Mutante
…your artist is shit.

Asher
I did that.

Mutante
Listen. Culo. You work for the big time. They think youíre injured, yes? They see you out there going about like this…youíre done for.

Asherís phone makes a noise, and he looks down at it with a look of absolute frustration drenched in horror.

Mutante
…what?

Asher
Iím done for.

Of all the weeks for that loudmouth cunt to leave the business, he had to choose this one. Ungrateful fucking arsehole. So busy being desperate to be top dog but far too busy being a bastard to really try. And now, Now I have to tag team with that other twat in his place. Fuck all. Iíll tell them Iím injured. Itís the truth, it is. Ankleís been killing me. No relation to the tattoo I gave meself, either. Genuine harm came to it. Asher shoots a tweet out and sits back on his elbows, proud of himself. He opens his mouth only to see another alert pop up. This one is not from the official FIGHT! twitter, but from the boss himself. Xavier…whatever his name was now. Him and Noelle just always called him Ďuncle touchyí or ĎGayer Vin.í Asher looks at it, looks at Mutante, and then back at it.

Mutante
Yep. Youíre done for.

Asher
Let me try to work me way out of it…

Vin Black
Donít bother.

Asher spun on his ass and looked at the doorway to the locker room. Ha. It was more of a shower stall with a bed in it. Actually thatís what it was. And he had about 15 minutes before the next person needed it. Of course, now that big man was here, who was going to dare interrupt him.

Vin Black
I take it youíve seen the tweet?

Asher
I did. Tried me best to…well…be me. He might still fall for it yet.

Vin Black
We got away with it for a while. You got a valuable amount of practice in. Made terrible money for it. And now itís time to get back to it.

Asher
Fair, but come on. Druscilla? Toxic Tag? First of all, I am way worse enemies with so many others, why her? I mean, technically Iím me own worst enemy, maybe I should be left out on account of it?

Vin Black
Pick up your phone. Tweet him back, and say youíre glad you can help out.

Asher
If I do that, then arenít I ju-

Vin Black
Do It.

Asher
Right, done. There. Sent. Happy?

Vin Black
No. Get dressed, I got a car waiting. Mutante.

Mutante
Sussio.

Alright, Iíll admit it. I had a good deal going for awhile. Fight doctors were just about sure I was laid up, due to my unmatched acting skills. ĎNo, stop, it hurts.í Sure the doctor called me a pussy, but Iíve been called worse for less by better, so fuck him, the walnut. In SIWA, I was Grouche El Goucho, the comedic mexican cowboy luchadore. Me finish was a move called the Vanquero Vanquish, where Iíd leap off the turnbuckle only to twirl a bit and come down on me opponent. I developed it by way of a harness in the gym Vin bought and customized to help me. The poser. I used to be able to only do it with the harness, but now Iím proud to say I can almost do it without the harness. In the Brooklyn All-star Wrestling Legion, yes, legion…I was Cavatappi! The italian mexican pasta based luchadore who would be his opponents Al Dente! My finisher was called the GahGootz and was quite often almost successfully pulled off except for literally every single time I attempted it.

And in The New Jersey Wrestling Alliance, I was just called the Bromato. I came out in red outfit with a mask that looked like a tomato, no not like that. Not all round. But picture a lucha mask, now picture it red, now add a little green thing on top. Bobís your uncle and beaís your aunt. My finisher was called Catch-Up, and it was the same move, which new jersey has yet to see me pull off successfully, mostly because they pay really good for a loss, and I like to definitely get paid for zero effort way more than I do for possibly getting paid for my best.

But all that was coming to an end now. Theyíd gotten wind of my scheme and honestly, if I wasnít the robin to Vinís batman, theyíd probably done something sooner. But membership has its privileges. So now, not only do I have to retire my lucha uniís, I got to back a woman who has literally done nothing but bother me, a literal angel, since the moment I came to know of her existence, as pointless as it is. And for what? The chance to be a team together? I donít play well with others. For fuckís sake I donít even play well with meself! Almost broke it the one time I tried! Guess I was supposed to get pleasure from it but like this it was just a hassle that didnít need having. At least this will come with a satisfying end. Either weíll lose, or weíll win, and Iíll get the chance to…lose again. So this cloud has no silver lining, eh. Iíve got to not only work with someone Iíve never liked nor cared to even notice, but Iíve also got to deal with a bunch of so-called legends in the business who quite frankly are some of the most boring pieces of shit since that time I ate bran flakes exclusively for several days. People like Dane Preston and Joe Montouri, whoíve been putting on the performances of a lifetime by both pretending to find anything about Allison even remotely interesting. If she was a potato chip, sheíd be salt and vinegar. Or those sucking cape cod ones that taste liked what cream tasted like to some count what aunt had crab before. Because only a fucking sadist would eat those and we only an arsehole would enjoy any of them. Or Apathy and Anicka. Team twat-the-fuck are they gonna do? Synchronize their menses? Sure theyíre both tough but do are pieces of meat that have been over cooked and these two beef slits are as overbooked as they get. If this was a battle of them one on one in a “lesbian vibe” fight the match could go forever. Thankfully instead theyíre pulling a Thelma and Louise with the cliff theyíre set to drive off being less a cliff and more their expectations. Or what about Dickie what his name and Paul Montouri. Speaking of chips the ones they have on their shoulders are what make them so salty. Sad little dick about being champ, sad big dick sad because heís not. Maybe they can combine their powers like Captain Planet and save us all the suffering. Actually looking at this list, something occurs to me. Dru and I may not like each other but unlike the rest of these, we donít hate eac-actually no I canít even say that because I hate everyone. And I get the feeling so does she. I mean, at least itís not the cranky dwarf anymore. Nicest thing that little shit ever did for us. The doors to the gym swung open wide, and while normal people might walk in, Druscilla saunters. Asher stands in the ring, harnessed to the ceiling, a bright orange mouthpiece hanging out of the corner of his mouth. He pulls the guard from his mouth with a grin.

Asher
Lookit. Someone found a gym.

Druscilla
Look, they hang their cunts up to dry here.

Asher
Whatís funny he-

Druscilla
Shut it, training wheels. We donít stand a chance in this tournament because you donít stand a chance in this. I donít expect to win, but I swear to god, if youíve embarrass me, the love I have for Vhodka does not extend to you. You faked your injury, now fake knowing what youíre doing.

Asher
Iíll have you know, was legitimately wounded in me ankle bits, thanks.

Druscilla
Which one?

Asher
le-

Druscilla grabs Asherís left ankle and pulls him off his feet assisted by the harness system but mostly through pure anger. Asher tries to yelp but is caught off guard and left silent. Dru grabs his ankle and bites down hard, her teeth puncturing the skin and drawing small amounts of blood. Arms flailing, Asher does his best to free himself but the only thing he does is make Dru giggle at the sight of him. And sheís not alone. Vincent and Mutante are also chuckling as they watch off from the side.

Druscilla
Listen to me. Let this pain be a warning. I know youíll let me down. But god help you if you embarrass me. And that, is the worst fucking dolphin Iíve ever seen. If they looked like this weíd eat them exclusively.

Asher dangled there as Druscilla exited, nodding to Vincent as she passed him. Vincent nodded at Coach E to get him down, and sat back on the metal chair, his left arm behind his head, and his right arm dangling at his side. Mutante offers him a swig from his flask but Vin passes on it with a slight nod.

Mutante
You think heís going to lose it for them?

Vin Black
Without a doubt. But good news is, I plan to overshadow him by a mile.

Mutante
In typica Sussio fashion.

Vin Black
Iím going to take that piece of shit Dolface, and Iím going to drive her so far into the fucking ground, anything ever shows up from her again, itís going to be on a carrot a hundred years from now.

Mutante
…your frame of reference..

Vin Black
Iím not explaining. Certain things have transpired, and being a suspect in the happening of them has given me…the cunt attacked someone, someone who I only knew about, because of someone else that was…Listen. Iím not getting into it. I donít get her reasons for doing it, but itís put a strain on the relationship between us and this person. And Iím going to….Vincent suddenly sees me looking and I canít say how or why but he knows. He has to know. I prepare myself to tell him my truth, and before I can even speak, he stands up and walks toward me. Iíve been trying to find your sister. Iíve read that book you gave me. The things this doctor said, the things he did to you. If you want, Iíll take a break from finding your sister, and Iíll find him isntead. And we can get him back for what he did.

Asher
…no. I…I donít want revenge. I want my sister.

Vin Black
Because love is more important than revenge?

Asher
Because heís bout 90 now, and torturing old folks isnít me cuppa. If I wanted revenge I couldíve had it meself a few times over. Heís not hard to find. She on the other end, next to impossible.

Vin Black
Ok. Letís come at this from a different way. How did you know about Marthaís dad and who the fuck did you tell?

Asher
wha? Me? I didnít do nuffin of the sort! How the…Ok, so I read her diary.

Vin Black
Do I look stupid to you?

Asher
Fine. I overheard her and Dizzy miss chattiní. I didnít think nothiní of it at first. Then it got to me, yanno? I been through a lot of what she been through. So I went out and got me a drink. Didnít want to have to pay for it so I went to this sleezoid club down in the middle of town. One of those member only deals that I love to worm me way into. Iím sitting there, getting free drinks of a guy dressed as a leather horse, when some middleditch looking perv comes in and triggers this system right. Where the customer pays and the doms, they get to decide if they feel theyíll be worth the time. Well one thing leads to another, guy gets dissed, told to fuck off, and he yells out the cunt word at the top of his lungs. Suddenly, the dom wants in. Find out later through a guy I sold fake coke to in the parking lot, sheís actually not there to dominate. Sheís there to punish. Sheís got a list like santa and sheís waiting for certain abusers to show up so she can take the down the notches they donít belong to be Ďt. So…knowing what I know, I go back there. And I find her. I tell her all about Marf and the piece of shit. And she agrees to take him down. She even pays me for the info. Iím sorry, bruv. Truly. I just…And donít go thinking Iím soft, but Marf is alright by me. She helps me beat JJ in smash sometimes by switching controllers and salts him up good. Figured this could be my way of repaying her.

Vin Black
Jesus, Asher. Do you know what youíve done? Martha thinks we did this. Sheís ready to leave. She thinks we betrayed her. I need to know who you sent after him.

Asher
So I may have, in the smallest of ways, caused this, so iíll spill the beans. But you canít tell them I did. I canít handle them coming for me…Because, I mean…thatís just the thing, you see. You do know her.

Vin Black
Howís that?

Asher
Youíre tagging with her.

Vin Black
…ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR FUCKING MIND!?

He goes off on a tangent that lasts almost a full hour before he demands I give him the address. I apologize a few more times and he gives me another speech about the enemy of my friend and so on, but mostly just tells me to stop sucking psychopaths on people, as if heís not one himself. Itís like heís disconnected from reality. Meanwhile, Iíd do it again in a heartbeat. Because I am many things to many people. Con man, thief, piece of shit. But one thing I am not is the type to let an abuser keep abusing. I almost tell him about Noelles ex-boyfriend, but I already told someone else about that, and I donít think theyíd play well together. But I guess thatís the point, innit?