In a packed arena deep in the Southern wrestling territory in Tallahassee Florida, this wrestling organization, a developmental subsidiary of Ultimate Wrestling, the fans are all riled up ready for the next event. The announcers had been teasing all night that someone from the UOW superstar roster would be making an appearance tonight, and it would be epic. That moment was about to begin.

The lights go dark, and streaks of white light flash randomly all over. Thunder crashes from the speakers, and electricity flairs up over the entrance ramp. Purple smoke billows down the ramp, as a massive bass chord from an organ causes the entire arena to tremble. Sparkles... no dust, from the ceiling catches the flashing lights as the organ continues to play a chilling dirge ever so slowly as it rises into an eardrum-splitting crescendo. Unseen voices intone the Latin verse, a spiritual spell of mysterious origins and meaning.

Four figures the size of small children enter through the curtain. Their faces are hidden behind Venetian silver masks, and their bodies are garbed in hellish rags. Together they pull chains attached to a cart carrying a casket. It bears the name of its owner.

TAKUMA SATO

The casket it wheeled all the way to the outside of the ring. The casket explodes with a burst of flames and a cloud of smoke, and the small slaves drop their chains and run backstage for safety.

Jets of icy cold liquid nitrogen shoot out from the edges of the casket door. The door slowly opens of its own will. From there rises a figure robed in layers of black. His name appears on the video screen.

THE HUCKMASTER

Oddly, he slowly floats upward without moving a muscle. Like the witch bag carried by Mary Poppins, he is pulled out from some parallel dimension below when enables him to rise already standing upright, rather than sit up from a laying down position. At first glimpse his head is covered in a long black hood. As he levitates higher, his hood continues down all the way over his arms, and down past his feet. He floats higher until his unseen feet are fully up in the air.

Huckmaster: You think you know me? You know nothing....

The fans, not quite buying this business of smoke and mirrors. They chime back with a ridiculous, haunting chant of their own.

Audience: Jon Snow, Jon Snow, Jon Snow!

Huckmaster: Oh but you do know me... I am the TRUE power behind this organization. The tinkerer behind your corrupt government. The ultimate beneficiary of the offering plate passed around in every church on the pagan holiday, Easter Sunday. The listener of your worthless winy prayers. And now, the mouthpiece of the one who rules the world! I Am... I Am... I AM... The Huckmaster!

Audience: Booo! You Suck! You suck! You suck!

A girl in the front row screams, followed by hundreds more as the hooded man spirals up into the air swinging back and forth as if he was attached to a deadman's noose. Over the audience he swings, being lobbed in circles and figure eights. He hangs there unmoving. Death.

The rope snaps.

There in the center of the ring with his boots and overalls now visible, he has his butt up in the air and his cloak piled up over his arms and head that he landed on. With unceremonial agitation he yanks the awkward costume piece off his body. The oversized hood, now resembling something out of the movie Spaceballs once the audience sees the foam underlayer built into the design.

Huckleberry with the lower half of his face covered in black make-up and his eyes slathered in mascera, he is sweating like a pig as he breaths heavy into the microphone.

Huckleberry: In case you don't rekonize me in blackface, they call me Huckleberry, but you can call me Huck. I was born in the South. Momma says my daddy left me for his second cousin af'ter he dun found out he was also her son. Do that math. That makes my red neck as inbred as can be. Doctors say my blood is type OB. That stands for Obfuscat'd Bastardry. Means they dun have me on a list of people who aren't allowed within a hunnerd Cupid Shuffles of any medical facility. I grew up in the bush lands, and my best friends were bears, bucks, and my 20 gauge shotgun since I was five. Life handed me a deck of cards with all the aces and royalty cards pulled out, and somehow I still turn'd out fine.

The hillbilly flashes his broken smile of pits and yellowed crooked teeth. The audience is growing restless, not sure what to make of the scene.

Huckleberry: Some would say my life was such a living hell, I should have ended it years ago. Yet here I am. A wrestling champion. On top of the world. The envy of the roster. With top honors, there is always a price to pay. Death is always close behind me. Someone is always there looking for ways to take the golden title away from me, and I welcome 'em all to try. But there is only one person like me in the world. One-of-a-kind. Inbred. Dim-witted. Offensive in every possible way since the day I was born. The world has always hated Little Huck, and it always will. Whether I open my mouth or not, I'll always be remembered as the dictionary definition of politically incorrect, because nothing about me is normal. I can't blend in because I stick out so bad, I can't help it. I was born this way. You can't wash yer jeans but can't never change 'em, Momma said. Which brings me to the point of why I'm out here tonight. My opponent this week.

Pointing to the casket, Huck receives an ovation cheers from fans of the man with the one-fisted heart punch fatality.

Huckleberry: Oh you know him? Sato. The man from the land of the rising sun, born with the perfect DNA to be the ultimate fighting specimen of the human race. I recently saw the highlight reel the UOW editors aired on Takuma. What a wild trip! Not very realistic, but neither was my entrance tonight. As I looked it over, I decided Sato's history could use a few revisions to better appeal to a modern, and sophisticated audience, such as yer'selves. So I made this here thing... what's the word kid's be using these days... a montage? A compilation? Well it's a work of art is what it is. Watch...

---

The video feed displays a cheap knock-off set of a bar scene. Huckleberry is wearing a black wig and mascara on his eyes to make them look exotic. His skin is bronzed badly orange. Beside him is a rough looking fellow with patchy hair, scars, and tattoos.

Ares: It's not fair! They expect me to pay for everything in this country. My college debt. The bills for my opiod addtiction! Next they are going to say I have to pay for the free movies we've been pirating onto my roku device. It's all the President's fault everybody's life sucks.

Sato: Jakosaka yanosaki banto riba hirosashi!

Ares: What did you say?

Sato: ... Indeed!

Ares: That orange faced orangutan doesn't deserve to be president. I don't care if he won the election, and now there is no evidence or laws that can force him to be put in jail. He should be impeached for being a jackass.

Looking at his own skin, the bronze-skinned wrestler looks a bit panicked at how to respond.

Sato: Well, uh... (cough), I hear the orange skin is a possibly a glandular problem. A hereditary condition.

Ares: Dude, you need to cool it. If you want to become a member of the Scum of the Earth, you'll have to start acting more like one. Have some of this magic green tea. It'll put hair on that bare chiseled chest of yours.

A waitress walks over and hands each of them a Hi-C juice box. Sato and Ares unwrap the little bendy straws. Sato makes various attempts to stab the straw through the foil opening, but the seal won't break.

Ares - What, are you four? Do I have to do everything for you?

Ares pops the straw through, and Sato smiles and gives a thumbs up to the camera as he slurps down the magical drink.

Special effects spin and whorl across the screen. Sato grabs his throat and his skin turns green, purple, red, blue.

Sato turns into a translucent spirit form. Waving his hands and legs around while laying on a green-screen platform, he is made to look like he is floating through the air over the himalaya mountains. He points to the Great Wall of China, and a luckdragon flies over it and winks at him. Finally he arrives in a Japanese courtyard. He is wearing kid's pajamas. The fancy onesie kind that covers the feet and head. A man with a long white beard and enormous white eyebrows that hang down to his chin is standing by stroking his sensational mustache while smoking a pipe.

Pai Mei: Sooo, yu want to learn my secret heart punch, eh?

Sato: Vewy much Faddur.

The cantakerous old man raps Sato on the head with a thick wooden cane. Sato scrunches his neck as tears roll down his cheeks. He rubs his head, and the black wig moves a little bit with the action, reminding us that it's really Huckeberry, dressed up as Sato in this silly skit.

Pai Mei: I am your Sensei! You will call me Master! Remember that, or I will never teach you the secret of my heart punch. Now see that post over there?

Sato: Yeah.

Pai Mei: Punch it until your knuckles bleed. And when they bleed, punch harder. Ha Ha ha ha ha!

The crazy master leaps into the air like a frog, exiting the screen. His landing is marked by a loud crash.

Focused on the wooden beam, Sato concentrates, and slams his fist into it.

Sato: Owwwww! Man, that hurt! Now I'll never be a cheap imitation of Bruce Lee. Oh wait, I know!

Shaking out the pain, he comes up with an idea and pulls something out that was hidden inside his pajamas pocket. He tears it open with his teeth, and squirts the contents of the wrapper onto his wrist: ketchup.

Jumping back onto the scene, Pai Mei believes that Sato has partly succeeded in the task, but he has not yet broken the wood.

Pai Mei: So, you have punched it so hard that your hand is now broken. Fool! You have failed the test. With a broken hand, now you can never be the master of the heart punch. Now your not just a fool, you are also a weak fool! You should have known this if you had a brain, but you do not. You should have used your head, but it is too late. I have lost my patience for your slow learning. Now you have once again proven you are a failure and an embarrassment to my dynasty.

Sato rushes at his father ready to strangle him. Instead, Pai Mei leaps back into the air with butterfly weightless grace. With momentum behind him, Sato lands headfirst into the wooden beam. The cheap foam prop shatters along the perforated lines, and Sato acts like he took a really hard hit. Suddenly he becomes transparent again, and he becomes spirit form once more.

In the next scene, Sato is tied up to a wall inside a prison cell. He is wearing only his boxer shorts patterned with small red broken hearts. In front of him is standing a sexy Asian woman wearing black leather shorts and bra, and fishnet stalkings. She is playfully slapping a horse crop across the palm of her hand.

Gail Kim: Thought you could get away from me, huh? Nobody gets away from Gail Kim. I am the greatest female wrestler in the history of wrestling. And you are the greatest male wrestler in the history of wrestling.

Sato: I will never be like you Gail Kim. True, we may have the same style of wrestling, but you are a cruel and evil monster. I am the opposite of everything you stand for, and I will never sleep with you.

Gail Kim: Who said anything about sleeping with you? Wake up! This is the 21st century. I said I want to have your baby so I can create a super baby who will one day rule the world. When you were asleep, I had the doctor extract some of your sperm. I won't lie, I did enjoy watching the procedure. I wanted to know if it's true what they say about Asian men. No surprise.

The camera zooms in on a close-up of Gail Kim, and suddenly she is depicted with a round balloon belly. She smiles coyly.

Sato: Noooooooooooooo!

The chains break off the wall. A halo of energy surrounds Sato as he hulks up to his super sayain form. With super speed he pounds a Lui Kang style dropkick into the abdomen of Gail Kim, and her belly pops and quickly deflates.

Gail Kim: You inhuman MURDERER!!!

The scene starts flashing, and Sato is ripped out of his human form as he becomes one with the astral realm again. The world spins around until he suddenly finds himself at a the bottom of a tornado that spits him out onto a sandy beach.

Sato: Sato, I don't think we're in Kansas anymore.

From out of the water a beautiful super model stands up wearing little more than a white dress. With a practiced whip of her wet hair, she goads the camera by staring alluringly as the water beads down her wet form, leaving little to the imagination.

Sato: Mamma?

Entering the water, Sato quickly realizes how freezing cold the water is. Still wearing only his heart pattern boxer shorts, he cups his hands to conceal his shrinking pride. With teeth chattering, he musters what confidence he has left to speak to the beautiful woman.

Sato: You are so, so, so young.... and, and, and beautiful. It has been so long since I have seen you Mamma. I missed you so much.

With arms extended, Sato reaches out to embrace her. She pushes him away in disgust.

Meiko: Ew! As, if! You are the most disgusting thing I ever laid eyes on. The reason I never held you as a child, the reason I never coddled you when you cried, the reason I tried to convince your father to put you up for adoption... you are a pervert! Stay away from me. I see the way you look at me! I am not a cheap inbred hussy. I am world-class model now, and I did it on my own, without you Sato. I couldn't have done it with you in my life.

Sato: You mean, you aren't mad at me for using illegal drugs? For turning to a life of crime? For sleeping with whores? For being a murderer? I killed a man, and his name was Dwight Couch.

Meiko: Who? Look numb-nuts, I don't care if you sat on a couch. I just want you to get a life and get away from me. As far as I'm concerned, you died a long, long time ago, and I never want to think about you ever again. Drop dead.

Sato: But Mamma!

Meiko: I said, drop dead!

In a rush of desperation, Sato rushes forward trying one last time to seize the opportunity to finally get to hug his drop-dead gorgeous mother. Except he couldn't because he was incorporeal once again. His body went right through her. The thought of never being able to touch the only person he ever truly cared about was tearing his heart to pieces.

Suddenly he awoke in his bed.

Sato: Oh, so it was all a dream.

Looking down he sees that he is wearing the same boxer shorts from his dream. They are wet. He looks directly at the camera with smokey eyes.

Sato: Or was it?

---

Back at the arena, Huckleberry is laughing at the terrible video parody of his opponent's psychological ordeal.

Huckleberry: And that is my version of the story of how Sato got his groove back. The master of the sucker punch. Yes, we all know he cheats to win his matches just like everyone else in this wrestling zoo. At least I am man enough to admit when I cheat. And when you and I face each other Sato, all rules are off the table. Once the bell rings and they hand me the belt, there isn't a man in this world with the power to take the victory honors away from me. I got your number Sato, and that number is... well it sure as hell ain't number one, because that'll be me, the winner. Now if you'll excuse me my new ride is waiting. Courtesy of Warhammer industries, worldwide leader making futuristic technologies most likely to some day destroy the planet.

A Pontiac Firebird Trans Am painted black with orange flames painted along the side fenders is rolled backwards down the ramp. Huckleberry jumps inside and revs up the motor. Black exhaust smoke starts billowing out the exhaust pipe, spreading a nauseous toxic cloud into the audience. The car exits the arena to the cacophony of thousands of people coughing.

#ewrestling #efed #uow #ultimatewrestling #wrestling #comedy #short-story #shortstory #story #writing #fiction #roleplay #rp

Thank you for reading my original writing. This is a fictional satire, and my roleplay submission for Ultimate Wrestling.

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