Meeting Claude and Beno

Jennifer Young: “I still don’t understand what we’re doing here.”

I glance at the folder in my hand.

Chad Mason: “I’m here to find someone.”

Jennifer Young: “We’re in Hawaii…and you want to go to an office. And why are we here anyway? Isn’t Blake Corp a competitor of Matthews Enterprises? Who is here that you could possibly want to see?”

I put my finger to her lips, smiling.

Chad Mason: “Shhhhh. If I tell you, it’ll ruin the surprise!”

She rolls her eyes, and I smile.

Jennifer Young: “You’re a dork.”

Chad Mason: “A dork with a plan. Now let’s go.”

I open the glass door to the building, holding it open for Jenny. She smiles, and steps into the lobby, and I follow close behind. It’s much cooler inside. Immediately, I push my sunglasses up, resting them on my head. I move towards the desk. A man sits there, taking a phone call.

Man: “I already told you, Miss, Mr. Blake does not work at this complex, he manages the company through the headquarters in New York.”

He holds a finger up to us, and points at the phone.

Man: “I understand that, Miss. But in the future, maybe giving your kids full access to the stove wasn’t your smartest parenting move. Did you think of that?”

He smiles as there’s screaming coming from the other end of the line.

Man: “You go right ahead. I’ll patch you through now.”

He presses a button, and turns his attention to me and Jenny.

Man: “How can I help you?”

I step forward.

Chad Mason: “Claude Olso?”

Claude smiles.

Claude Olso: “And to what do I owe this pleasure?”

I pick up his nameplate, examining the engraving in the metal.

Chad Mason: “I hear you used to be a wrestler.”

Claude Olso: “The key phrase here is ‘used to be.’”

Chad Mason: “The same source tells me you’re looking to get back into the game.”

Claude looks at me, raising an eyebrow.

Claude Olso: “And who exactly might this source be?”

I grin, waving my file at him.

Chad Mason: “A good magician never reveals his secrets.”

Claude Olso: “Hmm. And how, can I ask, does my wrestling career interest you, Mr…?”

Chad Mason: “Mason. Chester Mason. And it interests me, Mr. Olso, because I am currently in the need of someone with your…talents, we’ll say.”

Claude Olso: “Is that right?”

Chad Mason: “I have a plan. One that will destroy the barbaric, thuggish nature of wrestling. One that will revolutionize the way people view our sport.”

Claude Olso: “I’m listening…”

I toss the folder down in front of him. He slowly opens it.

Chad Mason: “What you’re looking at is a contract to the Insurgency Wrestling Federation. You’ve heard of it?”

Claude Olso: “One of the largest promotions in the world.”

Chad Mason: “And there’s a contract with your name on it.”

Claude folds his hands, resting his chin on them, and looking across the desk at me.

Claude Olso: “And what, pray tell, is in this for you?”

I smirk.

Chad Mason: “Funny you should ask. You see…I’m leading a crusade in IWF. I intend to make wrestling…better, for lack of a better word. Smarter. What I need, is someone with the talent, someone with the drive…someone who is willing to follow my lead, who will trust that my plan will succeed…and who will help me to bring this change into IWF, by any means necessary.”

Claude smirks.

Claude Olso: “So you just want me to help you to gain a numbers advantage? You want me to drop everything I have, simply to join your band of ragtags so you can power your way through IWF without consequences?”

I frown. Before I can reply, though, Claude continues.

Claude Olso: “I’m in.”


I stare at the club before me. It’s a grungy place. Filthy. A small line is formed outside it…and by the men and women standing in line, I can tell exactly the sort of place Dregs is. Even the women are plastered with tattoos, pierced from head to toe. Heavy smoke surrounds the building, partly from a fire burning in a trash can a short distance away, and partly due to the men and women surrounding the building, smoking….pretty much anything. I shake my head. I was glad I’d left Jenny out of this one. Even standing here, I felt like I was in some sort of danger. I’d have to keep a level head to get through this one. I approach the bouncer of the club. He was a big, biker type dude. Sunglasses, tattoos, gang symbols across his arms.

Bouncer: “Stop right there, little man.”

Chad Mason: “I need to get in.”

Bouncer: “Like hell you do.”

I smirk.

Chad Mason: “Yeah, I figured this might happen…run into a gate that won’t open…perhaps some grease will help?”

I slip a hundred dollar bill into the bouncer’s hands. He glances at it and laughs, pocketing it.

Bouncer: “I appreciate the tip. You still ain’t getting in, though.”

I frown. I reach into my pocket, my fingers brushing up against a small vial I’d kept there in case things got rough. I could use it now…I could wreck this man, leave him broken on this sidewalk…

A man walks out of the bar, sniffling, rubbing his nose. He slaps the bouncer on the back.

Man: “Good shit. Good night. I’m outta here.”

The bouncer laughs, slapping the man on the back.

Bouncer: “You sick son of a bitch, get outta here! I’ll see you next week, man.”

The man laughs, walking down the sidewalk. He looks at me suspiciously as he passes, and I get a good look at his face. That was the guy.

Chad Mason: “Well…this conversation has been thrilling…but I have other business to attend to.”

Bouncer: “Whatever, kid.”

I walk down the sidewalk, following the man. He glances over his shoulder, and shakes his head, continuing to walk. He turns a corner, and I speed up a bit. This guy was a pain in the ass to find, and I really wasn’t looking forward to having to do it again. I turn the corner, only to meet a stiff fist to the face, knocking me to the ground.

Man: “You got a lot of balls following me this late at night.”

I force a laugh.

Chad Mason: “They call you Beno, don’t they?”

Beno looks down at me, scowling. He grabs me by the shirt, lifting me off the ground, and dropping me on my feet. I stumble slightly, but keep my balance.

Beno: “Who’s asking?”

Chad Mason: “An…associate.”

Beno: “Associate to who?”

Chad Mason: “That’s not important.”

Beno: “I‘d say it is.”

Chad Mason: “I’ll give you information as I see fit.”

Beno: “You’ll give me what I want to know before I knock you out right here in this alley.”

Chad Mason: “Are you threatening me? Do you realize I could make your life a living hell if I so choose?”

Beno stands up straight, looking down at me.

Beno: “Yeah. I am. And no...you can't.”

Chad Mason: “You don’t know the things I have planned. The people I have under my command. I suggest you listen to what I have to say, Beno, because I have the power to make you a very rich man.”

Beno stares at me, not reacting at all.

Chad Mason: “You see, Beno…I know quite a bit about you. I know about your talents…I know about your vices. Seems a lot of places aren’t interested in an overly-aggressive, coked-up-”

Beno grabs me by the throat, slamming me up against the wall.

Beno: “People get killed around here for saying things like that…”

I choke, trying to breathe, but Beno wraps his hand tighter around my throat.

Chad Mason: “Let….me finish…”

Beno loosens his grip slightly, just enough for me to breathe.

Chad Mason: “I’m one of those few who can appreciate your skills, Beno. I have great need of those skills.”

Beno: “And what skills are those?”

Chad Mason: “I need someone who will beat another man senseless without ever questioning why. I need someone brutally violent. Powerful. Able to crush a man’s spine with his fists.”

Beno smirks.

Chad Mason: “And not only that…I can give you a place where you can do exactly that. I can give you a medium where you can beat up anyone you like…where you can inflict pain on whoever you see fit…all you need to do, is follow my lead.”

Beno stares at me for a moment, then drops me. I fall to the ground, grabbing my throat.

Beno: “I’m not agreeing to anything…but if I were to accept this little proposal of yours…who exactly is this target you want me taking out?”

I smile.

Chad Mason: “Are you familiar with the work of James Shark?”

Beno stares at me for a moment. After a long hesitation…he begins to laugh…


Chad Mason: “So…Steel Angel.

The new IWF Champion.

The face of the company.

The biggest thing in IWF today.

And you people wonder why we need something like Natural Law.

I’ll start by asking a simple question, Steel: How does it feel knowing that the only reason you aren’t still sulking around the midcard is because of me?

Would you like to try and argue that? Let’s take a look. You demanded a title match against James Shark, which, for some inexplicable reason, you got. You decided not to take that match, and instead opted to cash in and simply walk away with the IWF Title…conveniently following an attack on the champion, orchestrated by?

Chad Mason.

But that’s obvious. That’s something even you can’t deny. The only reason you’re the champion right now is because you had Natural Law there to take Shark out and give you easy pickings for the belt. But rewind.

Remind me again how you got that briefcase?

Right, right…you beat me at Spring Fling.

I think a lot of people have conveniently forgotten that. The last time I was in IWF? I was the briefcase holder. I had gone undefeated for a month, and I had won the Battle for the Briefcase Tournament…and it was only a matter of time before I cashed that sucker in myself and took the belt from right under James Shark’s nose.

What did I get instead? I got a match where I had to defend that briefcase. I had a bad night. I lost the briefcase…and for reasons unknown to me, I was fired from the company.

I went on a month long winning streak…and was fired because of one bad match. No chance to redeem myself. No chance to take my briefcase back. Only a few months to think and plan out my next move.

My next move? Isolation.

Now, I’ve heard IWF management doesn’t like what I did at Isolation. They don’t appreciate a guy who wasn’t supposed to work for the company, taking out their top stars, their champions, their hall of famers. They don’t like it when someone comes in and makes their biggest names look likes jokes in one night.

What Natural Law did worked like a fucking dream. As soon as that show ended, and I was ready to walk out the door, I was stopped by Rick Christian himself. You know what he told me, Steel?

‘You can’t pull the shit you did tonight, and not expect repercussions.’

He’s exactly right. I didn’t expect to get away with it.

‘You want a contract so bad, you got one. Good luck surviving the locker room after what you did here tonight.’

As if I fucking cared. I had what I had went there for. I was back in the company I was supposed to me in. But I didn’t sign right away, no. Nobody signs a contract right away, not without reading the fine print. So I took a glance at it. Standard stuff. Decent pay. No benefits. No bonuses. Just a standard issue contract for a year in IWF. I stopped him on one term, though. I looked him straight in the eyes, pointed at the contract and said, plain and simply…

I want a shot at Steel’s Title.

Of course Rick refused. His precious IWF Title? He would never risk it being on the shoulder of Chad Mason. He could never afford to let it fall into my hands. Why?

Because he knew damn well that I could wipe the fucking floor with Steel. And when Steel couldn’t even defend his belt after one real match, it would make that title look like shit.

He can’t afford that. Especially not with Stygian already running around with a plastic belt of his own, tarnishing the IWF Championship name.

But I was adamant. I refused to sign the contract unless I had one shot. One chance to prove that, had I not been fired, had I not lost that briefcase, I would have become the IWF Champion.

Ricky was at the end of the rope…and eventually, he caved. I had successfully pissed off the entire IWF Roster at one time. Sure, Rick could let me walk. But when he did, he’d be faced with a roster, angry for letting him let me get away. I had the Full Throttle title with me, and I had Natural Law following me. Rick could have let me leave…but he knew damn well that if he did, he’d deal with a mutiny, made up of everyone who wanted a piece of me before I left. And I’m sure there were plenty of people who wanted to see me taken out after that night. So, Rick caved. Anything to sign me to the company…so I got my match.

Hey, guess what Steel? Spoiler alert, I’m fighting you again in three weeks. And this time? The IWF Championship that I kindly won for you, will be on the line.

By the way, I never got a “thank you.” It seems all your undeserved success has given you quite the ego, Steel. I figured I’d at least get a shake of the hand. Not like I wanted to come to your little title victory celebration later. But whatever. That’s your decision, I suppose.

And it’s not like you’ll be holding that belt long enough to appreciate it anyway.

You see, Steel…this is the beginning of a new era. IWF is about to go into a bit of a martial law, so to speak. It’s going to be the rules of the jungle here, and only the strong will survive.

James Shark? He was weak. Death-Angel was weak. Chuck Matthews? Weak. Jason Hawk? Weak.

You? You, my disillusioned little friend, may be the weakest one of them all.

Natural Law, on the other hand…we are strong. We are the fire that will burn IWF to the ground, and the life-giving water that will raise it up again, better than ever before.

You can sit there and brag about your victories, Steel. Hell, you might even brag about victories over me. But you know what I noticed?

You have never been able to pin me. You have never been able to make me tap out.

And to be perfectly honest? I see no reason to think you’re even able to. I see no reason to believe this will be anything less that me, stomping all over you, and beating the newly crowned IWF Champion, one on one.

Where will I stand in your people’s eyes then, Steel? Will I be a joke? Will you still see me as “Silly little Chad Mason?” Will you continue to shove me to the back, pass me off as no threat?

More importantly, where will we stand at Ragnarok? Where will we stand when I fight you for a second time? When I beat you again, this time for the IWF Title? What will you people say then?

It’s time you started to see me…to see Natural Law…as a legitimate threat. We are in IWF to bring it to the next level, and I am the man who is leading the pack into a bright and glorious future.

If you aren’t ready for the impending change…it’s best to simply get out of the way.”