Brett Carson versus The World

Focus. That’s what he needs. Pure, undisturbed, heavy focus. 

The gym was as crap as they come. The floorboards creaked with even the slightest amount of pressure thrown on them, the paint on the walls were peeling and there were posters for boxing matches that happened years ago. The stench of sweat floats through the air as we hear a gruff, withered voice shouting at the top of his lungs every time the punching bag he’s firmly holding is struck. The gruff voice? Bronson Goldward. The striker? Brett Carson. 

It’s indeed a different week for Carson, he hasn't graced Twitter with his normal asshole-risms in days, there was no banter spoken like usual and no whining and moaning about VOW management’s booking skills. This week was different...this week is the beginning of a Brett Carson that’s different, a reborn Brett Carson. 

SMACK!

Another cringe worth forearm strike is driven into the bag as Goldie keeps screaming words of motivation and encouragement. 

“More force, you wanna knock him the fuck out, not show him how soft your arm is! MORE FORCE!” He yells, as Carson growls with a battle cry before reeling back and connecting with a forearm shot that was filled with even more force than the one before.

Brett starts getting more and more aggressive with a variation of strikes, knee lifts, kicks, headbutts, palm strikes, chops...any strike, you name it, he’s throwing it to the point where Goldie steps back from the bag, no longer able to bear the forced shots that vibrate the bag. Brett finally smacks the bag with  stiff kick before stepping away from it, still heavily breathing. His sports shirt soaked with sweat. 

All the anger he has towards management and towards the way things had been run in his life had been let out and onto the punching bag. 

“Quick, heavy strikes...That’s good. I bet that’ll be damn handy against the three others this week. You’ve done well today, think we’ll wrap it up. Let’s get the hell out of here...place reeks of fucking semen.” Goldie mutters, wrinkling up his nose towards the smell the building gave off. 

Carson slowly nodded, still catching his breath from the fierce, relentless training session he’d gone through. This was all part of Goldie’s new mentor-ship system he’d come up with, rather than voice the issues Brett had in matches and rather than be the mentor verbally...Bronx had finally sat down and realized if he wanted a successful client. He was gonna have to be the mentor physically, mentally, verbally and emotionally all at one time. 

Rather than cheering Brett on over a walkie talkie, Goldie has decided that it’s time to gear up and fight in the trenches with Carson, so to speak. With their first two hour session complete, Brett tiredly walks over to his sports bag with Goldie following behind him. 

“We’re done now, Jeremy…Appreciate the lending of your crappy ass gym! Clean this place up you lazy ass!” BG yells all the way to the back of the room, with a hint of sarcasm and humor in his tone. 

After a few moments a reply flies  from the back of the gym, “Yeah, whatever...You can get the hell out now, welcome back anytime, bub!” The man we assume is Jeremy shouts back as Brett ups up his water bottle, that once sat beside his sports bag, before taking a heavy swig of the water. 

Goldie scoffs, “Fuck that…” He quietly murmurs at the thought of coming back to the dump that used to be a heavily visited gym. And  with that the manager and his client make their way out of the gym and are immediately smothered with the cool breeze and pure air that rises through their nostrils. 

Both men sigh with pleasure and relief of once again surrounding themselves with fresh air. 

“Well, that was...different, I actually didn’t mind the training. We should do that more often as long as we do it in better gyms and not abandoned gyms run by fat, lazy slobs. Poor guy needs the training more than I do…” Carson chuckles slightly at the thought of the owner of the gym probably in the back office, eating donuts and drinking milkshakes. 

Goldie nods, although one can sense how awkward and almost naked he feels wearing the sports gear rather than his business suit. The city of Minneapolis is quiet this early morning as a few cars drive down the main road. 

“We’ll certainly be going back to those heavy training routines more often. You’re the fucking best and you need to stay that way. You need to be physically ready, emotionally ready and mentally ready.” BG explains, balling up his fists and gritting his teeth as he too has so much passion for his client’s work and his client’s performance. 

“You damn right I’m the best, and Frei and his team of professional wrestling letdowns know that. They know how talented I am and they refuse to allow me to show it.” Brett groans, really letting out his anger towards the way he’s being treated, “ They throw me in the ring with violent, insane people fully well knowing that the crowd loves those kinds of people and that the fans are blinded by those insane, mentally challenged people and forget to see the true talent that opposes them” He completes as the pair make their way to their van, the Volkswaggin’ as Bronson lovingly calls it. 

The Volkswagen Kombi, for those who don’t know, is a customized vehicle specifically made for the travelling men. The van itself was enlarged and made almost like a mini-unit. A small gas stove in the corner and an in-built mini fridge, plugged in and running. Of course the necessity such as a bed and a couch is placed in. They slide open the back, home part of the van and enter in and immediately Brett makes himself comfortable on the couch as Goldie makes his way over to his suitcase where he pulls out his neatly folded and pressed out suit. 

“It’ Brett Carson versus The World kid and Stefan Frei is leading the charge against you. You’re right...He’s trying to hold you down like he did all those years ago and he’s using the damn roster and stacking the deck against you.” While Goldie speaks, he gestures for Brett to turn around or look away so he can change to which his client obliges. 

“Put it this way...You’re facing three opponents this week, mediocre in terms of accomplishments and let’s face it...mediocre in terms of ability...compared to you at least. But you see, he’s a smart individual is Mr. Wrestling, I would know I’ve faced the guy in the ring before, he’s put you in the ring with multiple people so he can fool the masses.” Goldie explains as Carson raises an eyebrow  slightly intrigued by the perspective of the multi-man match that he hadn’t thought of. 

“Fool the masses, you say?” Brett repeats in a perplexed tone. 

“He’s fooling the masses...I mean it may not be clear to simple minded fans but to me and you, it’s crystal clear that Frei is trying to hide the fact, trying to camouflage the fact that you’re on...no pun intended here...you’re on a whole different level compared to Patrick Jones, compared to Mr.E, compared to RDO.”

Goldie drys his body up of the sweat and the dirt and slips on his white button-up dress shirt and his black pinstripe suit before stepping in front of Carson while setting his gold silk tie.

“It’s a smart move on Frei’s part but it’s also ever so foolish too. Smart in the manner that….with four people battling it out in one ring, it becomes difficult for the fans and smart wrestling analysts to point out and pick out the lack of ability of only one opponent. He’s fooled the masses by making them believe that this is an even match when in reality...it’s three average athletes against...THE Next Level Athlete.” He sticks his finger in the chest of Brett as both men finally are on the same page in terms of realizing the “plan” that Frei has.

Brett scowls at the sick thought of his old mentor trying to “hold him down” like when he was being trained by him

“Well I’ll stick it to him by overcoming the odds like I always do and continue to prove why I’m untouchable in the technical wrestling aspect of this industry. Even if the mindless, clueless fans don’t have the trained eyes to see those weaknesses that my three opponents have, it won’t matter because only one person knows what those weaknesses are...the mental weaknesses and the in-ring weaknesses and make no mistake about it, BG, come July 8th I’ll rip those weaknesses open and expose them to the world.” The scowl on his face slowly turns in a slight grin as when he says the words ‘rip those weaknesses open’ he makes hand gestures similar to ripping a piece of paper or tearing a sheet. 

As Brett spoke, Goldie fixed his tie and is now suit his suit and tidying it up before signing once again with relief, feeling much more comfortable in his traditional attire

“I sure hope you do, Mr. Carson...I’m proud to say you  know exactly what to target and when to target it-” Before Goldie can continue, Brett interrupts him. 

“...And you bet your top dollar it isn’t because of the poor as piss training I was given by that other guy. I have killer instinct, you know that, and I’ll methodically tear apart anyone placed in front of me making sure everything I do...hurts.” Brett’s grin widens as he has a focused glare to match the grin. 

Goldie too proudly grins of the masterpiece he’s guided.

“You said it best, BG...I face three average opponents, two out of the three have been around the block but let’s face it…haven’t exactly made use of the stores the block had to offer them…” Carson comments for a moment as he gets up off the couch and enters the front part of the vehicle before squeezing his frame into the front passenger seat. Goldie does the same except he squeezes into the driver seat before starting the van.

Carson continues talking, over top the loud roaring engine the murmurs of the radio.

“Patrick Jones for instance...I’ve seen his work, couple of good little wins here and there but everytime he made it to the big stage, he choked. He’s certainly someone of technical ability and that Zoned Out kick he uses, along with his gutwrench piledriver are certainly two moves I’ll have my eye on and those two moves alone prove just how much of a technical wrestler he is but what I have over him is my athleticism, he can’t match my speed in the ring, or my strength in the ring. That’s a fact.” Carson explains as the engine calms down and they pull out of their parking spot and begin to move onto the road again. 

“PJ’s good, no doubt about but you know...you’re right. He’s not much of a damn athlete in the first place, and they expect him to be a match for THE  Next Level Athlete?” Goldie sighs as he remains half focused on the road, looking both left and right before exiting the parking bay and onto the freeway. 

Carson scoffs before nodding, “Exactly, but I’ll tell you he’s a bit of a unpredictable guy. You never know what you’re gonna get with good ole’ PJ. He could come out aggressive, he could take the low ride and sneak one but what I do know is that he better amp up his game if he plans on trying to keep up with me…” Brett thinks for a moment before continuing, “I guess that’s the running trend in this match, they’re all good and have their fair share of weaknesses...and what athleticism Patrick lacks, Mr E covers.” 

Goldie chuckles before Brett can continue, “The guy is already a joke...He goes by the name Mr E...and there’s jack all about him on the internet. He’s got the mysterious, ninja shit going on…” He looks over to his client, “How many times have we seen that shit? Who the hell is Frei trying to fool hiring guys like him anyway? Since when is it a smart business decision hiring a guy who goes by a dodgy name and there’s absolutely nothing about him. No social media, no family history, no previous jobs...I mean can you imagine what his resume looks like?” Goldie rambles on as a slight chuckle once again pops up at the thought of his resume.

Brett shrugs, obviously clueless before going back to what they were originally talking about,

“I doubt he had a damn resume. But that's besides the point, we’re too fucking busy to play Sherlock Holmes and dive into some shady guy’s history. What we do know of him is that he’s athletic, not as athletic as me obviously, but more athletic and built than the other two...The connection with him and Noodle Boy is that one isn’t athletic and physically dominant while the other is, as for the connection between E and Mrs. Omega….Experience. Mr E lacks it while RDO has a fair bit of it. So this large motherfucker can go but all I have to do is outsmart him and run circles around his ass and he’s done…easier said than done but I make things look easy so I have no problems.”

Goldie hits the left indicator to which it starts blinking and soon after he turns before flicking it off, “That lack of experience leads to the damn experience edge that Rayne has...But you know, I can’t remember her being all that great. She was that Sakura chick that Owen beat back in that other place...And she had some good little matches but before she joined VOW, I’ll be honest...I knew her as Ryan Omega’s husband and to me she’s half the wrestler Ryan is and that’s saying something, ya know...considering Omega isn’t that great either.” 

Brett shuffles in his seat for a moment before continuing the intelligent conversation him and his manager are having, “She’s a thinker for sure, all those gears grinding and turning in that head but I tell ya...That may be good for her at times but let’s face it...She’s far from focused, I wouldn’t be focused either if I was seen as lying in the shadow of my significant other. I got a mental advantage over here and I plan to play to that...who knows I may even wake her up come Breakthrough.” Brett shrugs once more, a sly smile appearing on the face of his as he uses his hand as a comb and brushes his hair to the side. 

Goldie nods with a sly smile of his own, “It seems like you DO know what to target, PJ’s lack of athleticism, E’s lack of in-ring experience and RDO’s lack of confidence and focus. Out wrestle PJ and E and get in the head of RDO or at least fire her up into making a mistake...That’s the plan from my understanding.”

“You damn right it is...I have the advantage over all three of them, I’m a better athlete than the three of them, I’m smarter than the three of them and I’m more focused than the three of them are.” Brett smiles, “I’m uh...not a fan of tooting my own horn but I’m the superior wrestler and no matter how much Frei and the management try to hide it I’ll still prove it…”

Goldie stops at the first set of lights since starting back on the road, he rubs his hands together in a rather villainous type manner, “I know you will, kid...But first The Next Level Athlete and his Next Level Manager have to get to the DECC Arena...TO DULUTH, MOTHERFUCKER!” 

The light turns green and Goldie steps on the gas with full force shooting the old rickety vehicle forward with a decent amount of speed.

“I can’t wait to stick it to that bald bastard...To Duluth….motherfucker.” Brett repeats, a sinister scowl on his face as he has evil intentions made ready for Patrick Jones, Mr. E and Rayne Draven Omega.

Will Brett overcome the quote unquote odds that are stacked against him by VOW management? Or will all the training and strategising be for nothing? Stay tuned to find out!