The SeGGond Great Awakening: Long Way From Home

“I thought you said you were ignoring him?”

“I know, but…”

“I'm not going to let someone else dictate who gets a title shot,” Tony Two Books shakes his head, as he paces back and forth in front of Coral Avalon with an ice pack in his hand. “That's what you said.”

“I did, but…”

“What if Bobby’s still napping,” The Grin continues as he presses the ice pack against the back of his head, clearly not giving the Universal champion time to explain. “I know I'm good, but I might get tired from rolling him down to the ring.”

“Look, Tony…”

“I mean, don't get me wrong, adding tag team champion to my list of accomplishments is something I'd like to check off my bucket list,” Gamble still isn't listening to his Captain. “I'm just not sure you thought this through completely.”

“Trust me,” Coral places his hand on Tony's shoulder. “I have complete faith in you and Hessian pulling this out.”

“Hess,” Tony's eyes light up briefly, but quickly lose their luster as he turns toward sleeping beauty over on the couch. “Wait, we aren't snubbing Bobby again, are we?”

As if on cue the Murder Show appears, defibrillator in hand, eyeing up Bobby with a playful smile. He shrugs as Coral and Tony give him the side-eye, and opts to discard the device.

“Can’t blame a fella for tryin’..”

“Speaking of my partner,” Tony walks up and places his hand on Hessian's arm, since he cannot reach his shoulder.

“Partner?” The Murder Show looks down at Two Books quizzically.

“Why don't you fill the man in on the way to the ring,” the Universal Champion smiles as he looks down at the floor men in the ring from atop his throne. “Let the Wise Guys get a taste of what's coming for them at Colossus.”

Hessian kept his head on a swivel as he traversed from the arena to his bus after ReVival 60, wary of any potential lurkers who perchance sought reprisal for being decommissioned during the non-title tag match earlier in the evening. He went unmolested as he boarded the Hess Express, stored away his gear, and indulged in the welcome respite of a customary post-show whiskey.

A sharp rapping on glass, along with a jarring holler, roused him from solace to startled suspicion. Rising from his seat, expecting to see Scatino and/or Battaglia, he clenched his fists and peered outside. He had to crane his neck further than expected to lock eyes with the responsible party.

“Open up!” Two Books yelled up at the grimacing giant, palming the glass again.

“Let him in,” Von Kelsig urged Stevie, his driver, then as Gamble entered said, “what’s wrong? We got trouble?”

“Nah, more of a hassle actually,” The Grin sighed as he took in the splendor of his surroundings with furtive judgment, shrugging his bag from his shoulder. “Our Capitan suggested, in his infinite wisdom, that we build a stronger rapport before Colossus. Well, more like demanded.”

“Come again?” Von Kelsig cocked a curious eyebrow as Tony heaped the bag onto the nearest seat and plopped down beside it, digging his elbow into the synthetic fabric and propping his head up with his fist as he let out another groan.

“So, game plan,” Two Books balked, letting his gaze wander before shooting a glare at the giant. “We need one.”

“I get that…” the Murder Show nodded despite struggling to comprehend Gamble’s presence in his mobile sanctum. “But why are you..here? You have my number, don’t you?”

“Pfft…not that simple, big guy” Tony replied, straightening his posture and swatting the strap of his bag. “We’re talking about bringing more gold into the group, taking down a complete motherfucker and his more-than-capable sidekick to do it...thanks for the warm welcome by the way.”

Von Kelsig glossed over that last remark, “so..what? You want to go over it here? Now?”

“‘Course not,” Gamble managed a grin, emphasized as always by that unsightly scar. “I got a few days free before I need to deal with a personal matter, so you’re gonna ferry us back to this hallowed Parts Unknown of yours and we’re gonna study some tape. I'll clue you in on who we’re dealing with, then work on tactics and offense in that lavish setup you got. Capisce?”

Von Kelsig’s blood ran cold, his countenance strained with concern.

“You wanna-” the giant felt his throat closing up, “hnk…my place? But I-I-I’m-”

“-gonna help me annihilate that goomba Morty and take those precious titles from him and Tommy boy? Correct. Unless you wanna play the prince and lay a smooch on Bobbo to wake him from his slumber.”

“I agreed to the match Tony, no one said anything about-”

“-Captain’s orders. You wanna argue with our peerless leader?”

Von Kelsig’s paling head sagged, his gaze lost in the floor. Tony drew Stevie’s attention with a commanding double-clap.

“Take us home Jeeves, don’t spare the horses.”

Feeling his knees weaken and heartbeat quicken, the giant steadied himself on the countertop to stop from keeling over as Tony eyed up the bottle of whiskey and helped himself to a glass. The driver studied Von Kelsig’s flustered features in the rear view mirror as the Murder Show glanced up and made eye contact, swallowing the lump in his throat in the process.

“Y-you heard the man Stevie,” he stammered, “get us there…” he bugged his eyes as he enunciated the next word, to convey the severity of its importance without alerting his stablemate, “...safe.”

Stevie’s reaction was tinged with surprise as he mouthed, “oh”, then after a beat said out loud, “you got it boss. Homeward bound,” nodding in understanding as they set off from the arena lot onto the open road once more.

Von Kelsig drained the last drop of whiskey from the bottle before they’d even made it past Vegas, numbing himself while Tony described in great detail who Zapp Scatino was and why The Anglo Luchador had earned some respect in the ring. By 2am they were both exhausted; the giant from lamenting over his ordeal and The Grin from constantly repeating himself after every “hm” and “huh” uttered by his inattentive tag team partner. He sternly excused himself and claimed a spare bunk in the back, leaving the giant alone to collect his thoughts before trudging off to bed.

It took a moment for Gamble to recall his whereabouts the next day as he woke, unaccustomed to the change in his post-show routine. It took a little longer to quantify being awoken by Hessian, who still seemed perturbed about the whole situation.

“Rise and shine,” Von Kelsig emphasized with a hard knock on the wall beside Tony’s head, harkening back to The Grin’s obtuse arrival, “we’re nearly there..”

“You making waffles?” Gamble responded belligerently as he kicked the bedsheet off and wiped away a rivulet of drool that had snaked along the depression of his scar in the night.

“There’s cereal in the cupboard,” Von Kelsig replied as he disappeared from view, his voice booming from the lounge as he continued, “I’d eat now if I were you. I haven’t got much food in the house and we passed the last store about an hour ago.”

Tony started to gripe as he hopped out of bed and shuffled into the main cabin, “whaddaya mean you-oh…”

Beyond the bus windows lay a veritable dust bowl, kissed by frost no less, peppered with creaky pumpjacks and the rickety husks of older derricks that came before. A double-take confirmed that they were miles from any semblance of a population density.

“Did we take a wrong turn in Albuquerque…” he muttered.

Then he noticed a feature up ahead in the distance, beside the road, a grill pattern that grew in dimension as they approached. It appeared to be some kind of plant, judging from a lone, high-arcing silhouette.

“Here,” Von Kelsig shoved a half-full bowl into The Grin’s chest and plopped a spoon inside. It only took a mouthful for Gamble to detect staleness, prompting him to spit it back into the bowl before dumping the rest in the kitchen sink. The giant hungrily cleared his portion before depositing his crockery, irked by the remnants left by his fellow eGG Bandit. “Lost your appetite?”

“Didn’t you say we were almost there?”

“We are,” Von Kelsig swallowed his pride and braced, “trailer park’s up ahead…”

“......wait- what? Did you just say trailer park??”

Gamble was in complete shock by the time the bus pulled up to the layby outside the lot, and Von Kelsig’s cheeks were coloured crimson with embarrassment. Steeling himself, he fetched his duffel bag from the back and marched past The Grin, nodding to Stevie on the way out.

“Thanks again buddy, see you in a couple weeks.”

The driver returned the nod and gazed up at the rear view, watching Gamble’s face contort in disbelief.

“Is he being serious right now??” Tony asked the reflection.

“Last stop,” Stevie affirmed, prompting Hessian’s guest to collect his bag and make his way to the front of the bus, aghast at the sight of the place. What he thought was a power plant was in fact the remains of a long-forgotten amusement park, rollercoaster and all, falling to ruin just beyond the bank of trailers. Nothing here looked inhabited or inhabitable.

“He’s a Hall-of-Famer...” The Grin mumbled, “even I had some cash stashed away! What in the fuck are we…hey..what about the bus? Where are you going? You're not staying?”

“Bus goes back to the depot from here. I’m only contracted for pickups and dropoffs every fortnight,” Stevie explained.

Gamble’s consternation carried him speechlessly off the bus. The door swung shut behind him and the Hess Express rumbled off into the distance, leaving the two wrestlers to the elements. Von Kelsig stood with his head hung low, gripping his bag strap tightly as Tony sidled up to him.

“What's this?” he demanded through a clenched jaw.

“I’m-” the giant sighed, “this is home. This is Parts Unknown. There is no mansion, no state-of-the-art training facility, no..valley. This is it, my trailer’s up the back. It’s just me here. You’re the first one to ever come out here and see it in person...”

The trailer that Von Kelsig pointed out appeared to be intact, though its outer walls were mottled with rust and the windows streaked with scratches. A paltry clothesline hung beside it on two skewed poles, serving as the only real decoration.

“Bullshit,” Tony seethed, dropping his bag on the ground as Von Kelsig fished a key from his pocket and worked the lock. “You’re fucking with me, right?!”

The flimsy door creaked open. Von Kelsig hunched over and squeezed inside.

“Hey! I’m talking to you, damn it!”

Tony followed, stopping short of entering to grab the door jamb as he was hit with the odor of old sweat and mildew from within. Covering his nostrils with his wrist, he scanned the interior. The giant was stooped over a busted bed to his right, listlessly moving piles of clothing around the flattened mattress. To the left, a dingy kitchen with a sink full of stained plates and pans, and beyond that a worn, peeling tabletop surrounded by bench seats that served as the living area.

Stacks of old wrestling magazines lay spilled across the musty, floral-patterned seat fabric, and a single picture frame stood on the table. It wasn’t occupied by a print however, rather a folded over pamphlet featuring a familiar face smiling back. Two Books recognized the impish profile immediately, the name not so much. He inspected it more closely.

Order of Service

Franz Von Kelsig

1980 - 2020

Tony’s voice cracked as he asked, “what is this?”

Von Kelsig’s bloodshot eyes were glazed over as he turned to face The Grin.

“It’s all I’ve got,” his breath hitched as he acknowledged his surroundings. “A broken bed that I don’t fit and can’t sleep on, a kitchen that the rats won’t even go near, a living room with no life in it. You wanna see the bathroom?” Von Kelsig grabbed a nearby door handle, threatening to reveal more misery to his fellow Hall-of-Famer.

“No!” Gamble snapped, holding up the frame. “This. What is this?”

The giant’s sorrowful expression deepened.

“It’s the only picture I have left of my brother. The original Minion..”

The frame suddenly felt heavy in his hand and Gamble placed it back where he found it.

“Then who’s the dwarf you’ve been running around with all year?” he probed.

“Cyril?” Von Kelsig threw his hands up cluelessly, letting them smack against his thighs, “no idea. Just some actor I hired on the cheap when I came back. For TV. All of it was for TV. I’m flat broke, Tone. My job is all I’ve got.”

“Holy shit…you pissed your savings away, didn’t you…”

“Not exactly, I’m…up to my eyeballs in debt. I don’t have two pennies to rub together…”

A woozy sensation came over The Grin as all the air was sucked out of the trailer. Reluctantly, he fell into one of the seats and buried his face in his hands. Von Kelsig stood frozen in place, visibly trembling while Gamble’s leg shook nervously beneath the table. They stayed like that for minutes before Tony finally broke the silence.

“Yeah, I can't do this. Fuck this, and fuck you for-”

He looked up to find he was alone.

“-dragging me…Hess? HEY!”

Tony shot to his feet and stormed out of the trailer, enraged.

“WHERE ARE YOU?!”

Unsure which way to look, he soon noticed the fresh footprints in the dirt leading around the side of the trailer. Setting off at a furious pace, Gamble rounded the hovel of a home and staggered to a halt. The Murder Show was on his knees, shoulders heaving, sobbing soundlessly with his head in his hands. As much as Tony wanted to pity Von Kelsig, he couldn’t push past the indignation coursing through him. Still, he spoke softly as he approached the slumped mass.

“Look, Hess, I don’t give a shit about how or where you live. I’m not judging, I worked at Wal-Mart for a while,” he said as he stood over the shell of a giant. “But we-I..don’t have time to be fucking around in the desert when I have the second most important match in my career to prepare for. That we have to prepare for..”

Tony placed a hand on Von Kelsig’s shoulder and gave him a gentle shove, “hey…”

There was barely any force behind the push, yet it was enough to send the giant over onto his side.

Then Tony heard snickering.

The giant’s hands slipped. His face had fully reddened and tears were streaming down his cheeks. Gamble watched in awe as Hessian rolled around, no longer able to contain the raucous, booming laughter that he’d been struggling to contain.

“What. the. actual. fuck.”

The Murder Show was practically convulsing, and as their eyes met he pointed to The Grin’s traumatized expression and clutched at his belly. He tried to say something, but it came out as garbled noise.

“You motherfucker…you fuckin’ PIECE OF SHIT!!”

The boot to Hessian’s ass only sent him into a deeper fit of hilarity. His complexion purpled as he gasped for breath, guffawing uncontrollably.

“ASSHOLE! I FUCKIN’ KNEW IT!!”

Another stiff kick, another outburst. Von Kelsig dragged himself out of range and waved Gamble off.

“Okay! Okay! Stop, stop, holy fu-aahhahahahaaaa!!”

Gamble was so infuriated he could feel even his scar wilt, his heart beating so hard that his head was pounding.

Von Kelsig had almost regained his composure by the time the ache subsided.

“I should kill you where you lie, you know that? What the hell were you thinking??” Gamble fumed.

The giant eased out a long breath, relaxing into the dirt and wiping the tears from his face as he stared at the heavens.

“I’m thinking,” he paused to stifle another chuckle. “If I can convince you that this was all true, I can convince Zapp and Angles that I’m the only threat in the match.”

“What are you even talking about?”

Von Kelsig rolled onto his side and sat up, hugging his legs as he glanced up at Tony.

“I’ll run distraction; hold their attention and the ref’s, keep ‘em so busy they’ll think they’re in a two-on-one handicap. I can take whatever they dish out. That’ll give you carte-blanche to run interference before you tag in blind and take us home.”

Gamble’s lip quivered as another wave of anger washed over him, “you had to bring me all the way out here to buttfuck-nowhere to explain that?”

“I-” Von Kelsig shielded his face as a cloud of dirt was kicked up into it, “ptoo…I suppose not. But I wanted to show you how serious I am about this match, and how far I’m willing to go to bring those titles back to the carton. I think I’ve finally found my groove Tone, I’m starting to feel like the old me again.”

Gamble shook his head, the quivering lip reduced to a mere twitch. His fists were still clenched, however, his knuckles white.

“So you do have money? And you do live in a big mansion?”

“Of course I do, I’m a Hall-of-Famer for a reason, same as you. I’m not stupid.”

“And Minion?”

Von Kelsig tilted his head remorsefully, “the pamphlet was his idea, false name too. He’s still the same Imp that seconded me twenty years ago, just older and uglier.” Then his eyes narrowed, “I’m dead serious about this match. I need to prove I can still hang with champions if I ever want another shot at the title I never lost. I fumbled too many opportunities this year, I can’t afford any more slip-ups. I’m all-in if you are.”

The giant rose to his full height, towering over Gamble and blotting out the sun.

“So,” he shrugged, “are you?”

Two Books curled his lip as he regarded the giant, then spat at his feet.

“I was always in, you obnoxious asshole. Now can you please call the bus back so we can get a start on some actual preparation, now that you’re done with this mindfuck of yours?”

“Oh, the bus is already on its way back,” Von Kelsig assured him, “but we’re not stepping foot near my home. I purchased this lot for a reason; unlike JCH I don’t mix business with pleasure.”

“What, you don’t trust me??” Gamble sneered. “You told Daytona he could run his fucking jet-ski on your lake back at WarGames!”

“I say a lot of things,” Von Kelsig said, mulling over the trust issue. “Let’s get the Bandit side-plates on those belts first, then maybe I’ll consider a house call.”

Tony bit his lip, “we drove over twelve hours to come out here you fuckin-”

“-alright, alright! Christ, for a guy who’s always grinning……fine, we’ll go, but your phone stays off for the duration. Respect my privacy and I’ll respect yours, deal?”

The handshake was eschewed in favor of a kick to the shins.

“Deal.”

“The Wise Guys.”

Hessian stands tall, arms crossing his massive chest.

“Must've taken every bit of sixty seconds to come up with that one.”

Tony stands small, that damn grin on his face.

“I mean it's no Lucifer's Lap Dance, that's for sure.”

The Stool is positioned directly in front of them, a baby monitor with live footage of Bobby Dean sound asleep propped atop it.

“Still, it shows you guys put in a bit of effort. I myself feel like a proud papa seeing you guys winning a title without me, so coming up with a name for your tag team was just Kool Whip on top of my Jell-O.”

The Stool can now claim to have carried Bobby Dean successfully on more than one occasion, not many can say that.

“It feels like just yesterday I was handing you the Intense title on a silver platter, Angie, now you think you deserve a shot at Coral's crown?”

A beat.

“And Morty…I'll never forget holding one hand, while you used the other to knock Kohime on her ass on your way to becoming Alias champion.”

“Zapp,” the Murder Show corrects his partner.

“Zapp, Rowe, BRAND,” Tony snorts as he lets out a chuckle. “Doesn't matter what name he's going by, in the end he's just acting out a part, pretending to be someone he knows he'll never be.”

Tony shakes his head.

“So when the bell rings at Colossus, I want you to remember that you asked for this, Morty?”

The Stool recognizes the name, remembers he was a funny guy that always got his words mixed up.

“Now you're going to realize that if I had decided to go after the tag titles the last time they were around…”

That damn grin widens.

“There would've never been an and only.”