How I Won My First World Championship, Part III: How Do You Know So Much About Swallows?

Voice: So kids, your old man had just decided that he was going to make his full time return to the ring in the Corey Casey Invitational Gauntlet match. At this time, Corey was the IWF champion, and had beaten Brandon Macdonald to win it, a feat that up until that point...

Boy: ...or ever.

Voice: ...I had failed to achieve. It turns out that there were only two of us entering against Corey that week, me and a guy called Vincent Van Rose.

Girl: Who is that?

Voice: Vinnie was new on the scene at IWF. He was making his debut that week against a man called Keith Axel, who isn't even worth mentioning. Anyway, he won that match and that made him think he had what it took to beat Corey Casey in the Invitational.

Boy: Did he?

Voice: Not in as many words, no. To be fair to the guy, he put in a good effort, but I don't think he knew quite what he had put himself up against when he took on Corey that week. I, on the other hand, did know. I had fought Corey not long previous in a Battle Royale at Ultimate Glory, the last NLWF show ever, and had only narrowly lost out. In addition, I had seen him wrestle for months during my time in NLWF and FTW. I was convinced I had enough to beat him.

Girl: Did you beat him?

Voice: No.

Boy: Did you ever beat anyone?

Voice: Yes.

Boy: I don't believe you.

Voice: Anyway, the match was very close. I had Corey down on the mat, struggling to escape from my finishing move, the Tequila Slammer, when he pulled something extra out of the tank and rolled out of it, in to a Boston Crab of his own. I thought that was it. The end of my title dreams, at least for a good long while. I didn't think I would be anywhere near the title picture for months. But then Chuck, Brandon and Corey announced how the rest of the bracket for the Battle for the Briefcase tournament would be decided...



We now see Ruben Ricardo León sat on a couch in his house looking very dejected. He is holding a bottle of tequila in one hand, and a shot glass in the other, and appears to be absent mindedly watching television. Occasionally he will pour a shot of tequila and slug it back, before placing the shot glass down on the couch for a second, picking up the remote and changing channels on the television. It is not entirely clear how much tequila he has had already, but it is probably fair to assume it is enough to floor an entire Mariachi band.

After a while of just sitting like this, the tequila bottle begins to slip out of Ruben's hand as he drifts off to sleep thanks to his excessive alcohol consumption. He dozes briefly before he is rudely awoken by the sound of the door slamming behind him. As he jolts awake he knocks the bottle over and tequila spills all over the couch and the floor. He leaps up off the couch, soaking wet and tries to turn to face the originator of the loud noise, but simply succeeds in overbalancing and falling over.

The source of the noise, his girlfriend Maria, is standing by the door doubled over with laughter at what has happened. She leans an arm out to balance herself on the doorframe as her laughter intensifies. She manages to get herself together enough to look up just as Ruben stands up again, drenched in tequila, with his body and his ego sore from the fall. His look of dejection has been replaced by one of embarrassment.

Maria: That is the funniest thing I have EVER seen.

Ruben Ricardo León: : …

Maria: Oh, baby, are you OK?

Ruben Ricardo León: : 'sfine. I'm arright. Jus' needta go lie down.

Maria: Are you drunk?!

Ruben Ricardo León: : ...no.

Maria: You are! Why are you drunk? It's 3pm! You were sober when I left at 1!

Ruben Ricardo León: : A man can drink a LOT of tequila in two hoursss.

Maria: But why??

Ruben Ricardo León: : Cause Imma failure Maria.

Maria walks right over to where Ruben is standing and slaps him so hard that he nearly falls over again.

Maria: RUBEN WE HAVE TALKED ABOUT THIS! Things are going to start getting better. You will find your form again and you will win that World Championship. Do you hear me?

Ruben backs away a little bit.

Ruben Ricardo León: : Y...yes.

Maria: Good. Now, I've got something to tell you. That match against Corey wasn't your only way to get in on the Battle for the Briefcase tournament.

Ruben goes and sits down on the couch again.

Ruben Ricardo León: : Go on...

[color=pink]Maria: Well, you just got a letter fro...

Maria is interrupted by a gentle snoring coming from Ruben, who has curled up on the couch and gone to sleep. Maria prods him a couple of times, but it only serves to make the snoring louder.

[color=pink]Maria: Oh, for the love of...fine, sleep it off. I'll tell you later.



Ruben is sat on the couch again, this time a look of severe agony visible on the features beneath his mask. He is holding an ice pack to his head and groaning loudly. Maria is stood staring at him with her arms crossed and one eyebrow raised.

Maria: How do you feel?

Ruben Ricardo León: : Like someone is using my head to hammer nails in to something.

Maria: That tequila sure has a quick drunk to hungover cycle, doesn't it?

Ruben Ricardo León: : They don't call it Mesquite Massacre for nothing...

Maria walks over and sits next to Ruben, putting her arm around his shoulders.

Maria: My poor baby. Would you like me to carry on with what I was telling you before you passed out?

Ruben turns his head to look at Maria in disbelief.

Ruben Ricardo León: : You were here before when I was drunk? Madre de Dios, I must have put most of the bottle away.

Maria: And what you didn't put away ended up all over the floor. And you.

Ruben Ricardo León: : I WONDERED why I was slightly moist. Did I do anything embarrassing?

Maria contemplates telling him about falling over, but decides that in the context of his current hangover misery, it probably wouldn't do a whole lot of good.

Maria: No, you were alright. Anyway, shall I tell you what I wanted to tell you before?

Ruben Ricardo León: : OK.

Maria: You have another chance to get in on the Battle for the Briefcase tournament. And this way, there's no way you can fail to get in. You could walk still walk in to Isolation with a shot at the briefcase and then the belt.

Ruben Ricardo León: : What? How? Wasn't the invitational my only chance to get in to the tournament?

Maria: No. IWF have announced how the seedings for the tournament are going to work. They're holding an 8 man, over the top rope Battle Royale on Battle Grounds next week to determine several of the tournament entrants. And the best part: if you enter the Battle Royale, you're guaranteed a spot in the Briefcase tournament.

Ruben Ricardo León: : Wait, how do you know all this?

Maria: Picked up a letter addressed to you from IWF. Figured it was important so I opened it to find out what it was about.

Ruben Ricardo León: : What seedings are on offer?

Maria: If you win, fourth, if you come second, eighth, and then from there down it is eleventh down to sixteenth.

Ruben gives this some thought for a while.

Ruben Ricardo León: : I don't know. I feel like I missed my chance, and it's just the world's way of telling me that I shouldn't be getting back in to the business. I screwed up against Corey, so it wasn't meant to be. Maybe I should just call it quits... Take the hints that I am being given. Maybe karma just doesn't want me to wrestle.

Maria: What the hell is this, an episode of My Name is Ruben? Listen here, Ruben Ricardo León. If you don't enter this battle royale next week, I will never polish your trophy ever again.



Boy: Polish your trophy?!

Voice: Let's just say it wouldn't be polite or appropriate to tell you what your mother actually said...

Girl: Gross.



A stunned Ruben looks at Maria, the icepack still pressed against his head.

Ruben Ricardo León: : Suddenly an all new motivation to compete has overcome me.

Maria: I thought it might. Now, go and do what you have to do in order to put your name forward. If you do, maybe I'll even give your trophy a good polishing tonight.



Boy: Papa, stop that!

Girl: I think I'm going to be sick!

Voice: Well, I did warn you about wisecrack remarks earlier. So anyway, I did as your mother said and I got straight on the phone to IWF top brass and booked myself in for the Battle Royale. At that point, I didn't even know who I would be up against.

Boy: Wait a second. STRAIGHT on the phone? Papa, I've seen you hungover and you do not do things quickly.

Voice: When have you seen me hungover?

Boy: You don't remember last Christmas, do you?

Voice: ...well, anyway, I went back to sleep for a few hours, and then I got in touch with the guys at IWF, and lucky enough there was one spot left in the Battle Royale. I was up against Chris Matthews, Brandon Macdonald's little brother James, who turned out to not be so little, Vincent Van Rose, the guy who went up against Corey before me the previous week, and then a bunch of other halfwits and nobodies that I assumed would all be pretty inconsequential. Anyway, I was in, and it was the beginning of a whole new chapter of my career.

Girl: Let me guess, a chapter which contains long and very dull stories that we are going to have to sit and listen to for the foreseeable future?

Voice: It's like you read my mind. MARIA! Put some coffee on, the kids are starting to understand that they aren't going anywhere for the next few weeks!

The boy and the girl groan simultaneously.


Ruben Ricardo León: : A battle royale, the old classic. A wrestling staple for decades. Several men go in, one man comes out with the prize, whatever that prize may be. This week, that prize is the chance to be seeded number four in the Battle for the Briefcase tournament. For many of the men that are entering that ring, the chance to grab that spot is nothing short of momentous. The fourth best spot in the bracket for a tournament like this is a great opportunity to make a big name for yourself.

Let's take a look at the lineup. Bryant Tanner, Johnny Valentine and James Macdonald are all making their debuts. What better way to make an instant impact than by winning the battle royale and placing high in the tournament rankings? For them, this is a huge opportunity. But more on them later. For me, it is a reminder of my failure. My failure, last week, to do what I said I would do, and beat that piece of trash Corey Casey and claim the number one ranking.

I came within a second of beating him and walking out of that ring with not only the number one ranking but also the biggest scalp of my career. But, once again, I didn't. I came as close as I have ever come, but never again. Now, IWF top brass shouldn't take this the wrong way. I'm not saying I don't want the number 4 spot in the seedings. Far from it, number 4 is still a good launching point to win. Particularly given that number 2 is almost certainly going to be Ian Blackwing, who is about the most pathetic excuse for a competitor I have ever seen, and that number 3 will probably be Jason Hawk or Death Angel, both of whom I have beaten in the past.

However, number 4, as good a number as it is, will never be as good as number 1. Every time I see that number 4, I will see what could have been, how I could have been walking in to the Battle for the Briefcase as the top seed. Numero uno. But I guess this isn't the first time someone has had to settle for second best.

As for my opponents, well there is one man in this motley crew who knows what I mean. And probably knows a little about Mötley Crüe. Vincent Van Rose. Vinnie went up against Corey before me last week and came out second best too. I don't really know a whole lot about Mr Van Rose, but we share that at least. Does this mean I will go soft on the Southern Sledgehammer this week? No, it does not. It just means that he will be better prepared to be disappointed than some of the other people whom I will throw over the top rope.

Vincent, you're new to this whole wrestling business so allow me to offer you a friendly word of advice. Wrestling is not the same as bouncing. You did well against Keith Axel last week, but I'm not the only one who saw you come crashing down to earth when you faced real competition in Corey Casey. Being able to break a chair over someone's head or throw someone clean out a door are great skills to have when all you have to do to knock that guy down is swat your hand, but when you try it on people like us, who are paid to have that shit happen to us week in week out, well you're going to find yourself fresh out of ideas pretty quick after the 2nd time we just go right on and get back up.

You seem like a good guy, Vinnie, with your head screwed on pretty straight, but if you want my advice, get some real wrestling experience before you step in the ring with the professionals. I've seen it before. Every time a non-wrestler comes in to the business thinking they have what it takes because they've been in a few scraps, they soon find out they are sorely mistaken. You probably won't remember this but a while back a guy named Hank Henry, former action movie star, came in and tried his hand at the world of professional wrestling and got slapped down quicker than Chuck Matthews' hand reaching up to touch a stripper. Lord Blackwing and most of the Right Honourable Gringos have no previous wrestling experience and they're sucking so hard it actually hurts to watch. You see where I'm coming from here?

However, Vinnie Van Rose isn't the only other hombre that I am going to be throwing over the ropes at Bloody Sunday. We have the newcom.ers I mentioned earlier. Now, I'll be honest, I said I don't know a whole lot about Vinnie, but I know even less about Bryant Tanner and Johnny Valentine. I hear that Bryant is part of some old wrestling dynatsy, but as for Johnny, I got squat. Nothing. If I was walking past him on the street I wouldn't know him from Adam.

There is a third debutant who is worthy of a little more concern, however. James Macdonald, brother to Brandon. I'm sure by now you know that your brother has a history of being one step ahead of me at every turn. Well, don't expect the same to happen with you. I'm taking you a bit more seriously than Vinnie, because, unlike the people he earns a living clobbering, the guys you pound on a regular basis are used to taking it.

The problem for you is, that you seem to be relying on tackling me in order to keep me on the ground, but in order to do that you will have to catch me first. For the record, yeah, I do think I'm faster than your NFL buddies. You see, their speeds relies on running very fast in a straight line, occasionally ducking and diving to get out of the way. That's not how I roll, cabron. I leap around like a little jumping bean. One moment I can pop up in front of you, the next I'm right behind you.

When you were back in NFL, you had your coach tell you where to run, who to sack, it must have been simple being directed to run at a specific guy at a specific time to make a hit because you were expecting him to be there. Well, you can never expect me to be anywhere, because if you do, you'll quickly find out that when it comes to how I move around the ring, what you should really be expecting is the unexpected.

As for the threat of being tackled, well, James, I don't know if you're familiar with a Latin tradition we like to call bullfighting. Sure, it's no so popular this side of the pond, but a fair few Mexican guys are very well trained in dodging out of the way when big, dumb animals charge at them full speed. Hell, some of us even make a living out of it. And when the animal is too tired from all the fruitless, futile running around, we move in for the kill. I'll spare you the humiliation of using a red cape...

As for Keith Axel and Chad Mason, please, I don't think I've ever seen either of these two win a single match between them. It'd be interesting from a scientific point of view to put them in a singles match together with no timelimits, countouts or disqualifications, because eventually one of them would have to win a match and the whole universe would collapse in on itself.

That leaves just one man left. A wildcard, a man whose participation could go either way in this match. Chris Matthews. A man whose hot streak was on the way to rivalling the undefeated streak of Brandon Macdonald, back in the olden days but has since started to more closely resemble my own. Since you joined IWF you have hit stone cold bottom in the rankings, in a position shared only by Flex Rogers, who has been too injured to effectively compete, and our buddy Keith Axel, whom we all know is about to receive another very rude awakening at Bloody Sunday.

I'm not here to shoot you down, Chris. You're a great guy and I have a lot of respect for you, and when I was first getting to grips with things in the States you and Chuck helped me a lot. But I think you need to take a serious look at yourself, hombre. You have the potential to be the best in this company. Better even than Corey or Brandon maybe, but you are letting it go to waste because somewhere up there you aren't feeling it any more.

Take a lesson from someone who was been there very recently. If your heart ain't in it, it's time to take a break. Clear your head, sort out whatever shit you got going on and then, if you feel right again, come back refreshed and ready to kick the ass that everyone knows you can. Chris, when you're on your game, you are one of the finest athletes to have ever stepped in a ring, and way back when, I would have loved nothing more than to have had a one on one against you, see if I could go one step further than I did against your brother, but now, I wouldn't want that match, because the way you are going at the moment, it would barely even be a contest. I know that may sound a bit hypocritical coming from a guy who is only one defeat better off than you in the stats right now, but it had to be said, amigo.

I am going to walk in to Bloody Sunday, face off against the seven other guys and walk out victorious. Some of them pose a threat, whether it's because they're an unknown quantity, or they have it in them to kick ass when they really want to, it doesn't matter. The threats will be neutralised and come Monday morning I will have earned myself the number 4 seeding in the Battle for the Briefcase tournament. The sooner that all of my opponents realise that this is inevitable and just accept it, well, the less pain that will be in it for them. That's the easy way, boys, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't looking forward to the hard way.