The Memo/Who’s That Wrestler?

By: Ricky Rodriguez

Writing Prompt: No

Date: 9th Jul 2021

When things got to be too much, I could always count on long and winding drives along the California coast. My window rolled down and the wind blowing against my face would always calm my senses. It really was one of the best feelings in the world, capable of clearing even the most fucked of mindsets. Whenever things got to be too much, I could just..go and before I knew it, I was clear headed. Nothing bothered me. 


But that was California. This is New York and I’m sitting on a fucking bench. My thoughts are screaming and all I can focus on is the blaring horns emanating from various cars driving along the city streets. It’s all because of that fucking memo.


I was happy when it was OPW. Things were unknown, yeah, but it was an unknown that was beginning to be less..unknown. And now? It’s like I started all over again. A whole new environment and a whole new adventure. I’m mostly okay with that, I’m not saying otherwise. But back in Chino? I had my net to fall back on. My family, my friends. My late night drives. I had it all.


Then I took the leap. I crawled out of my increasingly shrinking pond and dove right into the fucking ocean. Thankfully I met some great people who taught me how to swim. Toderick. Samuel. Even Austin. In such a short time, they’ve become a pretty big part of what’s going on. I trust them. They’ve been there every time I’ve needed it and haven’t held it over my head. Even the rather heated beginning I had with Austin was replaced by friendship after some understanding on both of our parts.


And now everything’s changing again. I heard whispers of it beforehand but I didn’t pay too much mind to it. Business as usual, I thought. Boy, was I wrong. Now here I am, having relocated to New York and it feels like everything’s started over fresh again. I made the adjustment before, I just hope like hell if I can do it again. New York is far from home and if this doesn’t work? Then I’m stuck. And there’s no worse feeling than that. Before my thoughts could get too far into it, I started feeling those droplets of rain falling down onto me, the black tank top I wore doing little to protect me from them. Luckily, I didn’t even want to be out here so there’s my out.


Getting up from that bench, I make my way back into the rather shady looking apartment building behind the bench I was sitting at. Once in my apartment, I locked the door before tossing my keys onto an end table. Shortly after, I fall onto the black leather couch, relaxing against the cool material. It didn’t take long before those thoughts began swarming about in my mind once again.


There was another name that came to my mind. Michelle. Sure, we weren’t really at the venting to one another stage. Other than her kicking my ass at the go kart track and helping her make the move to New York, our encounters had been entirely sexual. And by that, I mean she’d take total control and use me until she was completely and totally satisfied before even considering mine. Honestly? I love it. The feeling of it all is just..I can’t even find the words for it.


I dug my hand into my pocket before pulling my phone out of it. I went to her name in my list of contacts, my finger just hovering above it. I stopped myself just before tapping her name. Shaking my head, I thought it best to just let things progress as they were and to not pull her in like that. No sooner than I set that phone on my chest, the familiar sound of my text notification emitted from the phone.


My eyes scanned the screen to see that text had come in from Michelle. It was like she knew. I read the text and it was a simple one, asking me what I was doing. I thought about it for a moment before giving her the mostly true answer. Sprawled out on the couch, just relaxing. I wasn’t sure what response I was going to get from that answer, but the one I got might have been the best one possible.


A picture popped up in that chat log. After tapping it a single time, the shot filled my screen. Michelle was posed on her knees on the bed she slept in. Not a single stitch of clothing was on her body. I took in the sight of her naked body, unable to resist chewing on my lower lip. Before I could think of something to say, she sent in another text, this one simply asking if I remembered how to get to her place.


It wasn’t long at all that I helped her move so the directions were still fresh enough in my mind. Now, I could stay here and try to work out the problems I have going on in my head or I could haul ass and get treated like a toy by this incredibly intoxicating woman. Decisions..decisions.


Letting her know I would be right over, I pocketed my phone and rolled around to sit on that couch. I might not be able to work out the issues swirling around in my head but I was damn sure going to be able to forget all about them, entirely, if even for just a couple hours. I got up off that couch, without hesitation, and went off to get ready for what was sure to be another rather eventful encounter with her. Michelle. That woman is going to be the death of me. But it’s a death I’m going to welcome with the widest of arms and a smile on my face. It’s a hell of a life I live and I wouldn’t change a thing about it.



A whimsical music filled the air as the scene picked up in front of a live studio audience. Standing on their feet, a sold out crowd cheered loudly as that music continued. Focus shifted away from the audience and onto the brightly lit stage. Across the top of that stage, flickering lights spelled out the words ‘Who’s That Wrestler!?’ Beneath that display were three sky blue podiums, each with chasing lights outlining them and a big red button at the top of them.


Behind the first podium was an older gentleman, hair as white as snow, dressed in a pair of khaki colored slacks, a white sweater, and a pair of polished black loafers. The nametag on his podium revealed his name to be Walt. Compared to the excitement everyone else in the studio showed, Walt was..apathetic, at best, in regards to the whole thing.


The second podium was for a young woman. Long and flowing blonde hair hung from her head. She was decked out in a pair of denim jeans and a white t-shirt that she had written ‘I drove 300 miles to be on TV!’ across her chest. She jumped up and down in excitement, rapidly clapping her hands. Across the top of the podium was her name, Maria.


And behind the third podium was a heftier man. While just as excited as Maria, the poor guy was a little winded as he had already jumped a few times. According to that podium, his name was Randy. Dressed in a pair of dirty khaki cargo pants with the material holding together for dear life and a black World of Warcraft t-shirt that thankfully fit a bit big, keeping everything covered.


Just then, a voice over loudly spoke up, greatly increasing the excitement everyone except Walt felt. 


Voice Over: Live from The Game Show Studio in Brooklyn, New’S! THAT! WRRRRESTLERRRR!


The crowd announced those last three words in unison with that unknown voice. Spotlights lit up and circled the stage before focusing in on a set of curtains that fluttered ever so slightly.


Voice Over: And here’s our host with the most! The man who backs down to nobody! Rickyyyy..Rodriguez!


And just like that, those curtains were thrown open and emerging from behind them was none other than the man himself: Ricky Rodriguez! Ricky was all smiles as he ran out onto the center point of the stage, looking to hype the already excited crowd. That young man was dressed to the nines in a sharp ass tuxedo, complete with bow tie, shiny shoes, and a microphone in hand.


Ricky Rodriguez: Ladies and gentlemen welcome to the newest and hottest game show to hit the world: Who’s That Wrestler?!


The crowd’s excitement popped after the words Ricky spoke. Turning away, he walked back towards the back of the stage, where the podiums were, before looking over the three contestants. He gave off a slight shrug of his shoulders before turning to look at the camera again.


Ricky Rodriguez: We got a great group of contestants lined up for you tonight..mostly.


Turning his head, Ricky shot a look towards Randy who lowered his head with a dejected sigh.


Walt: It’s because he’s a LOSER!


The audience roared with laughter at the crotchety old man. 


Randy: Fuck you, Grandpa!


Walt: Wish you’d move out of my basement.


Laughter from the audience only increased after the exchange between Walt and Randy. Meanwhile, Maria simply stood there, patiently waiting for the game to begin. 


Ricky Rodriguez: Anyway, let’s get this game going! First round is simple, with a specific wrestler in mind, I’ll ask a question and whoever buzzes in first will have the chance to guess who I’m talking about. Now, if everyone is ready, let’s find out WHO’S..THAT..WRRRRRESTLER!


Cheering in agreement, the audience eventually quieted down as Ricky pulled the stack of index cards from his inner pocket. Looking down at them for a moment, he brought his head up to look at the contestants.


Ricky Rodriguez: This woman continues to wrestle..continues to WALK thanks to the MERCIFUL J. Mont. This woman failed to get the job done in a recent..ish Southern Heavyweight Championship Match. Now tell me..Who’s..That..Wrestler!?


The buzzer sounded loudly as Maria was the first one to buzz in. With his free hand, Ricky pointed over to her as she jumped up and down, titties just flopping all over the place as she did so.


Maria: Who is Vhodka Marie?!


Walt: This isn’t Jeopardy, you dumb bitch.


Maria shot Walt a glare, clearly none too pleased with the man’s answer. With his free hand, Ricky rubbed the back of his head for a moment.


Ricky Rodriguez: While Maria had the right answer, Walt is correct as well so we’ll call this one a tie and award both of them a point!


The podiums of Walt and Maria both lit up, reflecting their newly awarded point. Being the only one without, Randy clearly wasn’t the biggest fan of this. He parted his lips to speak but Walt was quick to shut his grandson down.


Walt: Boy, if you make this stupid shit last any longer than it has to then I’ll bust up that stupid ass internet box you’d die without.


That warning was more than enough to get Randy to turn his full attention back to the task at hand.


Ricky Rodriguez: Let’s move on! This man has more mouth than he has ass to back it up with. This man is bitchmade to the point that he threatened to call the cops on a guy just because his wife or girlfriend, or what the fuck ever she is to him, is starting to get eyes for a better man. Only to resort to blocking him because of major, and completely true, insecurities. Who’s..That..Wrestler?!


This time, it was Randy who buzzed in. Ricky pointed to him as Randy spoke up.


Randy: Too eas..


Before Randy could finish what he was saying, another buzzer sounded, completely taking him off guard.


Walt: Dane Preston.


Ricky Rodriguez: Correct!


Walt: You forgot he’s a cuck and prejudiced against the Eyetalians.


Randy: Hey, wait!


Walt: Wish your momma would have said that before your jackoff daddy nutted in her.


Ricky Rodriguez: It looks like we got another tie, ladies and gentlemen! Walt is certainly on a roll though, he’s pulling ahead as Maria and Randy are playing caboose. Now! Let’s move onto the next question which will be the last one of this round. 


Taking another look through those index cards, Ricky would occasionally toss one to the side, not really caring about what it said. Finding one he wanted, he began to read off of it.


Ricky Rodriguez: This man has completion issues. This man loves to talk shit but is quick to slither back under his rock when called out about it. This man gives really shitty presents and has watched one too many Saw movies for his own good. This man knows damn well if he steps up and tries backing up his talk, he’d get put on his ass and straight embarrassed. Now tell me..WHO’S..THAT..WRESTLER!?


This time it was Maria who buzzed in first, the excitement brought on by this being shown clearly.


Maria: It’s Brandon Moore!


Ricky Rodriguez: Correct! Mister spookhouse boogeyman bullshit himself! And with that point to Maria, it’s time to enter our final round. Now, whoever gets this question right takes home our fabulous prize!

Randy: Wait a minute. If the last round question wins the game then why did we have to answer the other ones?


Walt: I swear to god, the best parts of you must’ve leaked out of your momma.


Randy: Goddamn it, Grandpa! I’m so tired of you always talking shit about me!


Walt: That’s it, you little prick!


Without warning, Walt expertly undid his belt and whipped it from around his waist. The eyes of Randy grew to the size of saucers as Walt ran at him, brandishing that leather belt. With no surprise to anyone, Randy hobbled off to the side as the much quicker Walt chased after him, the sound of leather smacking against a body was heard.


There was an awkward silence, lasting only a couple moments before Ricky cleared his voice. Doing the best he could not to laugh at the display before turning his attention back to the only contestant left, Maria.


Ricky Rodriguez: It looks like this is your game to win, Maria. All you have to do is figure out WHO’S..THAT..WRESTLER!


Maria put her game face on, her eyes locked onto Ricky with a visible intensity to them. Her hand hovered above her buzzer as she waited for the hints.


Ricky Rodriguez: This man is the definition of Real Style. This man is currently two and oh at a professional level. This man is the hottest newcomer to everrr step foot in these parts. This man, quite possibly, is the best goddamn game show host ever. This going to kick every ass in front of him at Blood Money. Now tell me, Maria..Who’s..That..Wrestler?


The face of Maria scrunched up as she thought about her answer. After a moment or two passed, she finally spoke up.


Maria: Is it..Ricky Rodriguez?


Silence filled the air after she uttered her answer. Anticipation was building heavily as suddenly the show’s theme music hit. Buzzers and sirens went off as balloons fell from the rafters while the crowd went wild!


Ricky Rodriguez: CORRECT! 


Her excitement reached a fever pitch as she screamed out, jumping up and down while clapping her hands. Her laughter was raucous, totally hyped that she just picked up the win.


Voice Over: Tell her what she’s won, Ricky!


Ricky Rodriguez: Maria! You’ve just won..the pleasure of watching me step into that ring..looking past friendships..looking past who I hook up with..looking past EVERYTHING and focusing entirely on picking up this win. You get to see me do what I do better than anyone else in this company does. People like Moore and Dane, you get to see what happens when they don’t have a Twitter account to hide behind. You get to see me shine brighter than any star. But most importantly, get to see my ascension. Because that is exactly what Blood Money is to me. It’s my moment. It’s bigger than’s bigger than Ryan. This..this is the moment where I step up and I show the world EXACTLY who Ricky Rodriguez is.


Before Ricky could continue with what he was saying, Randy stumbled back out onto the stage. Tripping over some camera wire, the large man fell to the floor with a thud. That was when Walt struck. Running up on him, Walt began wailing away at his fallen grandson with that belt, each strike hitting harder than the last.


Randy tried like hell to crawl away but continued taking those hits as Walt followed after him. Ricky couldn’t take it any more and just began laughing his ass off at the sight. Looking to the camera, Ricky simply shrugged his shoulders, that smirk breaking out across his face as the scene faded to black.