Neart le Chéile [vs.] Flex Johnson and Desmond Young

The History of a Black(ish) Tag-Team

Scene 1-Old Memories

“Every wrestler has one goal in mind when they enter into the business—to become a world champion. But, world champs aren’t born over night; you have to work and perfect your craft first.

“I learned that fact early in my career. Like every hot head talent fresh out of wrestling school, I thought I was going to skyrocket straight to the top. But, err, it didn’t work out exactly like I planned—in my first match, I got murdered.

“Or should I say, we got murdered.

“My first really match just so happened to be a tag-team match. I was teamed up with another scrub called ‘The Icon.’ Now, I know I was green, but this fool couldn’t wrestle his way out of a jacket. He quit the next week. And, who were our opponents? They were current tag-team champs at the time.

“So, I took my lumps that day, and eventually I turned into the nine time champion you see today!

“No but seriously, after that first match, I HATED tag-team wrestling. By the way, this was back in the defunct UECW. But anyway, I guess my hatred of tag-teaming arose from my experiences. Ya’ see, UECW had this nasty habit of just throwing to totally random dudes together for tag-team matches. They also had a habit of creating mixed-match teams. So, you’d have teams made up of a future world champion, and guy who shouldn’t even been allowed in the arena.

“Ugh, yeah, so for good eight months I dreaded tag-matches.

“And then something happened.

“UECW fans will get tired of hearing this, but IWF fans have never heard it. Besides, this is MY promo time!

“Anyway, one of my rivals approached me one day. He had this idea of making some super faction, a group that would dominate the promotion. He was a rival; but, I had observed his fighting spirit in the ring. So, I joined, and ‘The Foundation’ was born. Then a couple of days later, his boy Joe Hollywood joined the federation. So was GREEN…or, that’s the way he appeared to everyone. Joe basically threw his first couple of matches; he didn’t want everyone in the promotion to know what he was.

“So, the plan was for Joe and I to team, while our ‘leader’ went after the world title. Now, I was upset—my rival really didn’t deserve a world title shot to begin with.

“But I held my tongue—something I don’t usually do. But, it turned out to be an awesome choice that time.

“Hollywood and I became a REAL tag-team; we trained together, traveled together, the whole nine yards. But most importantly, we got to know each other outside of the wrestling ring.

“In about a month, Joe and I became the hottest tag-team; we were even hotter than the champs at the time. By the way, those were the same champs the kicked my ass the first time. Anyway, long story short: Joe and I challenged for the titles, we won, end of story.

“Aye, good times.

“Joe is no longer in the business. He went off and got married and what not.

“Ha, since then, I think I’ve probably had four or five tag matches. I after teaming with Hollywood I went back to back to singles wrestling. And to be honest, that’s when I started gaining a lot of success.

“I guess you could call me the break out star if you really wanted to.”

…

“Apparently IWF is starting up a tag team division. It would be interesting to get back into that division. But finding a partner is difficult.”


Scene 2-Doctor’s Office

Flex sat on a bench in a small doctor’s office. Flex looked around the room. There was a tiny bookshelf on the right side of the room; although, there weren’t many books on the self. Most of them were bland, medical journals with gray covers.
However, Flex did laugh a bit at a copy of “World War Z” that was resting on the top of the shelf.

A few second later the doctor walked into the office. He was an older man, in his late 50’s or so. He carried a stack of paper.

“Alright Flex, do you want the good news or bad news first?

Flex sighed.

“Let’s go with the bad news.”

“The doctor pulled a X-Ray out of the stack of papers and handed it to Flex. The X-Ray was of Flex’s chest and abdomen.

“The bad news is, you have a broken rid. That’s about it though. For a 42 year old, you keep your in excellent shape. Because of the rib you are going to feel a little soreness for the next couple of weeks, but you are cleared to compete.”

Flex laughed.

“Cool.

“So what’s the good news?”

The doctor laughed.

“You just paid for my daughter’s car.”

The two laughed.


Scene 3- Reporting Live

The scene opened up with a shot of Santa Monica Beach. It was almost 7 p.m.; streams of lilac had already begun to file the sky, forcing out their white counter-parts. The purple sky was illuminated by the vibrant lights of a huge amusement park that was adjacent to the beach.

Very few people were on the beach. There were a couple of surfers heading out into the water, trying to catch the last wave of the night. There were also three or four people randomly scattered on the beach. These people were laying on towels, sitting in chairs, etc.

On the eastern section of the beach stood a black man. The man was dressed in brown boat shoes, a tan pair of cargo shorts, and a brown pair of sun glasses.

The man let out loud yawn and then ran his fingers through his long hair.

“IWF, this is Flex Johnson, reporting LIVE from L.A.

“Santa Monica Beach to be exact; a place where the weather is hot, and the women are even hotter!”

Flex laughed a bit.

“But I’m not here to talk to you about beaches, I’m here to address my ‘opponents’ for this weeks. And, yes, I use the term opponents very loosely.”

Flex held up a finger.

“Hold on, let me make sure I get their names right.”

Flex reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper.

“This week, Desmond Young and I will face off against…

“Neart le Chéile?”

Flex shrugged his shoulders

“What kind of fucking name is that for a tag team?

“But anyway I digress. Let me just get straight to the point; this isn’t even going to really be a freaking match.

“Why? Well the answer is quite simple; there are only to REAL wrestlers in this match. Those two would be Young and I.

“Tim Patrick, a few days ago I had the displeasure of meeting you backstage. I had heard that you were a bit, shall we say, ‘wild’ looking. But, ‘wild’ doesn’t describe you what so ever. ‘Savage,’ ‘barbaric,’ those are much better descriptor words. Tim, I lived in Harlem for 39 years; I’ve seen hobos that look cleaner than you.”

Flex sighed.

“But, this isn’t the 1900s; the business isn’t so focused on looks. But, to be a wrestler, you have to have the ability to actually, umm, WRESTLE! And surprise surprise, you don’t have any actual wrestling skills. Oh yeah, I’ve heard all about you Tim. You never went to a legitimate wrestling school; no, instead you ‘wrestled’ around in someone’s backyard.

“You are nothing more than a simple, uneducated brawler. And that’s a damn shame, because will be taking on taking on two of the world’s best WRESTLERS. Desmond is a three time All-American; hell, the boy could have wrestled in the Olympics.

“And me? Well, I’ve traveled the world, learning different styles. I’ve been to Japan, Germany, the UK, Mexico—name a places, I’ve probably been there. Tim, you are looking at the most complete WRESTLER ion IWF.”

Flex laughed.

“But I guess that doesn’t really mean much to you does it? Rumor has it that ran to Jessica, crying like a bitch. And, she felt so sorry for your caveman ass that she made this match a No DQ match.”

Flex smirked.

“If that’s the way you want to play, cool. I hope you don’t think that gives you some type of advantage though. Tim, I know I’m new, so you don’t know me very well. I’m 42; I’m not some green, wet behind his ears scrub. If been wrestling a bit longer than you; I’m a pure wrestler, but I’ve fought my fair share of wars son. I’ve been in hardcore matches, inferno matches, triple cage matches, the whole nine yards. Tim, I’m a WRESTLER. That means that you can put me in any type of match and I will thrive.

“But you can’t do that can you Tim? No you cannot. You see, you’d get exposed in a regular match against me. I’d drop you on your head until it got numb. Then I’d go body part by body part; right arm, right leg, left arm, left leg.

“I’d demolish you; the same goes for Desmond as well.”

Flex thought for a few seconds. Then he smirked.

“You know Tim, I just had a thought. But really, it just goes along with my last point. Tim, it really doesn’t matter what type of match Desmond and I face you in; it could be a ‘Lego Death Match’ for all I care. The fact of the matter is this, we are better than you. You grew up a poor piece of shit, and you are shit a poor piece of shit! And that is a key reason why you and your partner are going to take an L this week.”

Flex laughed.

“Speak of your tag team partner, that brings me to you, Sean Libby.

“Oh yes, I’ve read up on you Mr. Libby. Unlike your partner, you seem to have SOME talent in the ring. But let me ask you this Mr. Libby, do you think you really have what it takes to career this team of yours to victory. And yes, the key word is career. You see, this may be a NO DQ match, but at the end of the day, it’s still a wrestling match. And your partner has said himself that he isn’t much of a ‘wrestler.’

“Are you prepared?

“You see, I can’t imagine what’s running through your brain right now. You see personal, I’m not concerned about my partner; he seems like he can handle himself well enough. But you sir, you’ve got animal on your hands, someone who has to be directed and guided.”

Flex smirks.

“Sean, some people backstage told me that you were ‘crazy.’ Or, at the very least, that’s how you like to portray yourself. Well, you really must be crazy if you think you have any chance in Hell of winning this match.

“I mean let’s be serious Sean. We all saw you and Tim’s match against Axle and Ace. You all got trampled, crushed, demolished. It’s an absolute miracle that you can still show your faces around IWF. And this week, you have the horror of facing myself and Desmond.

“But let me ask this Sean; if you and Tim couldn’t step up last week, when the fucking titles were on the line, or the hell do you think you are going to win this week? Yeah, Sean, you might be crazy. You might do monkey backflips off the tope rope.

“But guess what…

“…you’ve got no fucking heart!

“Last week could have been one of the greatest moments in your pitiful career, and you just let it slip right past you. No…actually, it’s more like you tossed it away!”

Flex shook his head.

“In this business, opportunities come sparingly; you’ve to make the most out of each one that is given. Both you and Tim failed to do that last week. Now, basically as punishment, are two are being fed to Desmond and I. Is it fair? No, not really. But, this business isn’t based on equity Sean, it’s based on the best wrestler is. And in this match, you and Sean aren’t the best wrestlers; hell, yaw might not even be the best brawlers.”

Flex shrugged.

“But, I suppose talking will never be sufficient will it? The four of us could talk until we are all blue in the face; but that wouldn’t solve a damn thing would it? Well, I’m tired of talking; I’m tired of wasting my time on you two fools.

“It’s time for action!”

End.