Not All Created Equal

“Aaarrggh!” Grunting can be heard in the Monster Factory. The smell of sweat and stains of blood give this old gym character. Other athletes and future wrestlers train in the gym, but most are staring at one individual. Gunnar Granderson lies on a workout bench with a firm face and no spotter standing behind him as he lifts the weight bar over his head. A considerable more amount of weight than usual sits on this bar today, and most assumed the WWX Superstar was just trying to max out his weight. But he lies there pushing through rep after rep going for what appears broke. Some grow worried about Gunnar hurting himself, while others grow with excitement watching the man exceed any possible expectations. 

The head trainer notices what is going on, seeing the lack of work around him. He stops training the man he had been working with, “Take five kid, get yourself some water.” He says, removing the workout gloves from his hand. The young man, no older than 18 years nods to confirm his trainer’s direction, and heads off to a bench to rest. The trainer looks around and begins walking towards Gunnar. “What are you punks looking at? Don’t you have some work you should be doing? If you want to watch, go home and turn on Access, don’t waste my time here!” The trainer shouts trying to turn everyone’s attention elsewhere. Most of the men get back to their circuits, but none of them pay full attention to their tasks. Everyone’s silent all lending an ear to what could be going on with the former International Champion. “What the Hell are you doing Gunnar?” The trainer shouts, standing by the superstar. 

Gunnar keeps pounding out the reps, pushing through the exuberant amount of weight above him, ignoring any connotation of the trainer or men around him. “I said what the HELL ARE YOU DOING!” The trainer shouted again. “Put it down! You’re going to kill yourself kid!” With that, Gunnar slammed the weights down on the rack above him. He sat up quickly, and easily, breathing heavy, but rather easily with respect to what he had just been doing. 

“I’m bench pressing! What the Hell does it look like I’m doing Ray?” Gunnar answered back with an agitated tone in his voice.

“You don’t EVER lift that kind of weight Gunnar, I’ve only seen you max out at what you are currently lifting. You have a big match at Aftershock, you are going to hurt yourself again you keep up working yourself like that!” The trainer shot back.

“Look Ray, I lost my number one contender match last week. That rookie punk got lucky in that match, using brass knuckles to cheap shot his way to victory, and Lochnar got lucky with his kick the week before that taking MY International Championship!” Gunnar continued growing wilder and wilder in expression. “I will be DAMNED if I’m going to lose against Lochnar again at Aftershock. I’m increasing my strength so I don’t have to worry about any mix ups, or problems that might happen.”

Ray looked around; obviously this interaction was drawing too much attention from the guys in the gym. He looked back at Gunnar, and lowered his voice, calming down. “Look Gunnar let’s talk in my office so these kids can get back to work. They come here to better themselves, this is distracting them a little. With that said, Gunnar picked up his water bottle from the side of the bench, and followed Ray into his office. Ray closed the door behind them, and most of the guys went back to working their circuits, and chatting about what had just unfolded before them.

“Gunnar, I know you are upset about your loss in the Tournament. ESPECIALLY after all you have been through in the last two months. You had DGS to deal with, you had the issue at Phase Out, and you have a conniving boss who appears to be taking EVERY opportunity he has to screw you. But you need to remember to keep a clear mind, and not get overly excited. That’s what cost you early matches in your career with WWX.” Ray then sat down at his desk across from Gunnar, who was already seated.

The office wasn’t much more than a janitor’s closet. It was sizable enough to be called an office, but not glamorous in any fashion. The desk Ray sat at was old, once made of wood, and had plenty of scratches and marks on it. There were papers on the desk, but not organized by any measure. An old iMac sat there, with the blue casing, and the paint on the walls was chipped from years of neglect. The only objects in the office that gave Ray any credibility were the signed pictures of many wrestling superstars he had trained and helped get to the next level. 

After cooling down, and taking a drink, Gunnar but the water bottle on Ray’s desk and looked at his long time trainer. “Ray, I know I need a clear mind, and I have one. I was working out my frustration there.” Gunnar began to answer back. “I need to do SOMETHING to get me to that next level. I have been training in different martial arts, honing different skills. I defeated the best wrestler WWX has ever seen. I have proven myself in the ring. And yet, I lose cheaply. I have the agility, foresight, and desire to win. But these cheap stabs that have happened as of late, the only way I can see my way past them is with more muscle. I am hands down one of the smallest guys trying to compete in the Heavyweight division.”

Gunnar stopped, exhaling with some relief. He picked up his water to cool down his dry mouth again. Ray sat there looking at Gunnar for a few moments. Then, he leaned back and opened a drawer from his desk. He reached down and pulled out a book, resting it on the table facing Gunnar, and then closing the drawer. “Remember this Gunnar? You wrote this, I have read it countless times, as have many others. It was a top-selling book. THIS is what got you where you were at Hall Of Pain, and THIS is what makes you special and gives you the advantage in the ring.”

The hard-back limited edition book lay quietly on the desk in front of Gunnar. He looked at it, staring uncontrollably remembering when he wrote the book. “Not All Created Equal” was the title. Gunnar leaned over, picking up the book, opening it to the beginning and reading through it briefly. 

“You know everyone isn’t the same. Yeah, you are only 6’2, only 215 pounds. That might seem small compared to some of the giants you go toe to toe with in that ring, but look at the current champion. Blaze is just as big as you are, and you BOTH have taken down all the big men WWX has to offer.” Ray spoke with a gentle tone as Gunnar sat there listening and continuing to look through some pages. “Blaze didn’t become champion over night, and he lost it quicker then any ever has. He undoubtedly was screwed. But he didn’t try to change anything, he kept at it, and got his title back, just as you will get yours back.”

Gunnar closed the book and set it down back on the desk. He looked at Ray recalling how long he has trained here, and realizing why he continues to come back. “When you were striving in WWX, and on that hot win streak what were you doing that you haven’t done in months?” Ray asked rhetorically. “You were having fun!” He said, answering his own question. “I haven’t seen a single joke out of you in months! Yeah, I know you were drugged at Phase Out, and lost the sponsorship with WWX, and have been screwed over by James Ranger, but you are making your time in WWX a job! You have a job! I know you were “dismissed from your duties” but you are still a Granderson and everyone knows it! Get to Aftershock and show the world what you are all about!”

Gunnar grew a smile on his face. “You’re right, Ray. I may not be losing it, but I was uneasy. Lochnar is a nutcase right now, freaking out on waitresses and abusing his students. That’s what is going to cost him my Championship.” Gunnar said proudly. “Thanks for the talk, Ray. This is EXACTLY what I needed, and this morning Evelina told me not to come home until I was finished being a dumb ass. I think I’m going to shower and take that beautiful woman out to dinner tonight.”

“That’s what I want to hear Gunnar!” Ray said, grabbing the book from the desk, and putting it back in the drawer. “That book of yours has helped so many others here, I knew your own words would shine light on yourself, champ. I will be watching Aftershock, you know all of us will. I expect to not only see you win your Title back, but to actually ENJOY the show for the first time since November. I don’t know what the Black Mamba is doing, but I’m sure the WWX hasn’t made any money since Hall Of Pain.”

Both men shared a laugh at that comment. Gunnar arose from his chair, and opened the door. The men training in the gym heard the door creek open, and all turned to have a look. Gunnar looked back out at the lot smiling; the men all tuned back to their work once that noticed they were caught spying. Gunnar looked back at Ray just before he left. “No worries, I have something planned for yous now.” His jersey accent sounding obvious. “It will be fun again, I promise. That’s what the fans want, and that’s what I want! I will make sure Lochnar has something to CHOKE ON! Haha”

Gunnar laughed as he left, leaving the door opened. Ray leaned back with a pleasant smile on his face. He then looked up at the wall holding all the pictures of past wrestling stars that have trained there. He gave great attention to the picture of Gunnar Granderson. It was a shot just after Hall Of Pain when he unified the International and North American Championships. Gunnar was smiling with the International Title hanging over his shoulder. The signature read “Thanks for all the years of hard work Ray, Gunnar”

Fade to Black