For the Honor of The Experts: Mark Mania vs Zach Rizza vs James Raven

[Alex Smiley]

This is the place where the burritos--I mean roleplays--go.

Hype: Zach Rizza has been personally invited to take his place in history at the first Experts event in five years. Mark Mania is a stalwart of The Experts, and cannot stand the thought of an outsider getting the spotlight. James Raven is James Raven.

RP Deadline: May 27, 2018 - 11:59PM Eastern

[Mark Mania]

May 1st, 2018

"It's been a long time." The room is dark, the voice seems to be coming from the corner. "Are you sure you're up for this?" The voice asks, a short giggle afterwards.

"The Experts? Siberia? Of course I am." Mark Mania answers. Mark is the longest running active member of The Experts. He recalls late night conversations with Bat-Mero and Lodi. He and Jesse Gunn battled at an Experts event a decade ago. The first ever True Expert Champion, Smitty, now passed, was his cousin.

"Well old man, you better get to work." Out of the shadow steps 'Insane' Shawn Chronic. One of the original owners of Mania Enterprises and Owner of XCW the first Experts affiliated wrestling federation. Shawn has a wide grin across his face as he extends a hand.

Mark smiles back and lunges in to hug his old friend. The room lightens up around them. "Old man? You better look in the mirror. 'Insane' really only describes the amount of grays in your head these days."

Shawn runs his hand through his hair, "I think it adds a layer of distinction to my position."

"Position? You've been M-I-A for years. We all just kind of assumed you died."

"I haven't been M-I-A, I've been in MI-AM-I, man. I've been living the life. Feet up, Pina Colada in my hand, watching you do your business. It's been nice to stay out of it for a bit." Now that the room has lightened up, we see that we're on the 30th floor of Mania Enterprises in Boston, MA.

"So what brought you here, out of that comfort?"

In Mark Mania's office, he has a 1920's art deco desk in the corner, two chairs in front. In the other corner is heavy bag with a thin layer of dust on top. Shawn gestures towards it, "Looks like you needed a little motivation."

Mark smiles. In one quick move he throws a right hook into the bag and the dust flies off the bag.


May 18th, 2018

Covered in sweat, Mark does an inverted sit-up in his gym down on the bottom floor of Mania Enterprises. As he goes for another one, 'Insane' Shawn Chronic walks in with two coffee's in his hands.

"Some type of motivator you are."

"Hey, we're old, need coffee just to get through the day."

Mark laughs, and dismounts the bench. He grabs the coffee from Shawn.

"So here we are, you're starting to feel a bit better, you don't huff and puff after going up the stairs. So what's your plan? Who are these guys you're wrestling?"

Mark takes a seat, towel around his neck, he takes a sip of his coffee, "Well, they're not guys that I've come across before, but they both seem to have a good pedigree behind them. Zach Rizza is a veteran of XWF and apparently he was invited by Legion to attend. And then, there's his boss James Raven. Raven ran XWF and is a legitimate Hall of Famer. Guy has been around almost as long as I have."

"Young and old coming together, this is what The Experts was always supposed to be about."

"I'm just so happy to be a part of it again. It's been too long since The Experts closed it's doors."

"Well, it's not like you've had a ton of success the last few outings."

"You know, there's a lot of good wrestlers out there these days. I feel like the last time I was in Siberia I did some of my best wrestling, but that was a stacked field it was tough. After that, I put in my time at APW facing off against the best wrestlers in the business. Level-One, Sally Talford, Terry Marvin, Evan Envi, shit the list goes on of top tier Experts that I got my hands dirty with. There isn't anyone in this field that I don't feel like I can go toe to toe with." Mark stands up and wipes his brow, "I may have stepped away full time for the past few years, but I had a great match with CJ Gates at the APW Reunion show and I did a quick cameo in EWC last year and was wrestler of the week. I'm not as rusty as some may think."

"You're going to need to be a lot better than just 'not rusty' to go up against these guys. You need to be on top of your game. You need to do The Experts proud. You're the only real old guy left here. You need to do our legacy proud."

"It always has been about Legacy hasn't it? Legacy Tower, World Legacy Wrestling, it's all legacy with you and Gunn. Well, my legacy is already cemented in the annals of Experts history, but I'll get the 'ole chisel out and keep adding to it."


May 25th, 2018

"Our estimated flight time will be 12 hours. Should be a pretty even flight, a good westerly wind pushing us across the Atlantic. Sit back and enjoy the ride."

The pilot always finishes with 'enjoy the ride'. How does anyone enjoy a ride to hell? The Siberian prison. It's been years since I stepped foot in that place. It was a brutal few weeks. The warden watching over everyone, the greatest wrestlers of our time lining the cells. We all felt like shit, acted like shit, and just killed ourselves to prove who was the best. I fought hard, but I wasn't the best then.

I was just working my way back in. I was coming out of a deep depression after dealing with the death of my cousin and closest friend. I wore a mask, I went by Crazy Joe. Jesus, to think I went from friends with 'Insane' Shawn Chronic to becoming 'Crazy' Joe. What a circle of life type of moment.

But Siberia changed me. In Siberia I saw what I needed to be. When I was in my prime the wrestling world was different. The style of fighting and the intensity in which these 'new' guys were competing with was unlike anything I had seen before. I told myself after that year that I would train harder, study more, and become one of the best. That's when I joined APW. I specifically joined there because Level-One, the most recent True Expert at the time was there. I wanted to see how I did up against him. I fought hard in APW and had multiple matched for the World Title against him. I was never able to crack that egg in singles competition and that hit hard. But after that, I saw the meteoric rises of Terry Marvin, CJ Gates, and Evan Envi. I was able to defeat all of them at different times and I knew that I had gotten better. Level-One unfortunately had retired at that point so I never got another chance against him.

This next Experts Invitational is my next opportunity to show that you can always teach an old dog new tricks. I couldn't be more excited to face off against Zach Rizza and James Raven. Rizza who has been tapped by Legion to create a new legacy and James Raven who has a list of accolades that few can compare with. This will be a challenge, it will be a test, but most of all it will a chance for me show off one more time.


May 26th, 2018

SCENE – Mark Mania's private jet. Mark Mania has his laptop open, going over tape of his two competitors, Zach Rizza and James Raven. Mark looks up from his laptop and into the camera.

Mark Mania: People of The Experts, hello!

Mark flashes a wide smile and waves.

Mark Mania: Oh how I've missed this! Just being able to speak to the entire world and have everyone on the edge of their seats. It's been a long time since I've be able to talk to a lot of you. I don't know what all of you have been doing, but I've been having the time of my life. Mania Enterprises continues to focus on its public relations department and has been under the watchful eye of our new President Emily Rivera. So I've been able to just take it easy.

Mark gestures a smooth road with his hand.

Mark Mania: A lot of you probably saw me this past summer in the World Series of Poker, I was on the featured table for a few weeks, finished top-20, walked away with a cool $200k. I spent a lot of time in Napa Valley working on one of our newest endeavors, a Mania Enterprises wine. We've got the winery up and running and will have our first batch in 2020. I also gave birth to my first son, little Mark Jr. He's a wild little toddler now and is just starting to get the idea of what daddy used to do. And throughout all of this, there was always a little itch, a little tingle on the back of my neck.

Mark touches the back of his neck.

Mark Mania: No matter what else I used to try and fill this hole, there was just nothing that came close. I always knew that I'd come back. I always knew there would be another chance. I thought it would be another APW Reunion Show or that someone would give me an offer I just couldn't refuse. Instead, it was something better than my wildest dreams. Just seeing the title of the e-mail "Experts Invitational", I almost spit out my coffee. I never thought that I'd get another chance to be in this ring, another chance to continue the legacy of The Experts. But by-god, here we are.

Mark looks towards his laptop and smiles.

Mark Mania: I wasn't really sure what was going to be happening during this next Experts event, was it another tournament, maybe a battle royale? So, I'd be lying if I didn't say I was a little surprised by who I was going to be facing. There are a lot of names from Experts past on this card, Doug Fresh, Jack Benevolence, Sandy Makel, Georgie Nickles, Jose Ramon, MDK, Legion, Scorpio, I mean all these competitors that I've known for years. And then I get down to see who I'm facing and it's Zach Rizza and James Raven.

Admittedly the name James Raven does ring a bell, but we never really ran in the same circles. We never crossed paths in federations or during one of these inter-fed competitions. I've been looking into your career a lot though recently. I watched your induction into the XWF Hall of Fame and boy did people respect the hell out of you. You were a fierce competitor, you took the reigns of the federation when it seems like no one else would. You're a legend in this industry and I'm sure you feel like you have nothing to prove.

Well, all those are great, and I know all about past accomplishments, but, as I've learned time and time again, it doesn't matter at all what you've done, it only matters what you're going to do. So let me ask you James. What are you going to do? Are you here as a fancy one off cameo? Are you here to put your little buddy Zach Rizza in his place? We're here for the honor of The Experts. The Experts is everything to me. I know that I haven't been are the forefront since the late aughts, but damn it, this is still all I know. I love the history of it, I love what it means, and I will fight my ass off for it.

I was talking earlier about my time in the World Series of Poker last year and if there's anything that I learned then that I can bring into the wrestling world it's that you have to play the player and not the cards. We've all been dealt a hand in life, some are gifted with talent, some are gifted with looks, you know, like me and you Raven, not so much your buddy Rizza, but still, you know what it's like. So we had easy street all through life. We were able to get through most things with a smile and the rest with pure skill. So what's going to differentiate us in the ring? Trying our hardest and sticking to our guns? Fuck no, that's nonsense rhetoric. The best way to win is get into the head of your opponents.

When you're playing poker, you need to be able to bluff someone, you need to know when you're getting bluffed, and you need to know when your hand is just flat out better than the others. So that's what I'm trying to figure out with you Raven. Do you still have pocket aces under there? Or are you Doyle Brunson and you're trying to win with 7-2 off suit because you think people will just fold to your prowess? Listen, I've faced down legends with accolades twice the size of yours. I'm not going to be intimidated like Rizza may be. While I respect what you'd done to make this business a better place, I still know that when it comes down to it, when I'm squaring off in the ring with you, I'll know if I have the better hand and I'll know if you're bluffing. Bring your all James, you're going to need it.

Mark smiles and runs his hand through his hair.

Mark Mania: I've been talking about poker a lot recently, but you know, like I said, I've been in other businesses lately too. This winery is a whole new set of challenges for me. I grew up playing poker in my garage with buddies, it always came second nature to me. But a winery? Totally different. I know I enjoy a good glass of red and I know that it takes a lot of time and patience to make the perfect batch. Thinking about that makes me think of our boy Zach Rizza. He's never been the best of the best, but he's always had a lot of potential.

Every grape has potential Zach. Every grape could one day turn into the most delectable glass of wine to ever be drank. But you know, most grapes end up on the ground, some of them end up at grocery stores where little kids pick them off the vine and stick them up their nose. What kind of grape are you Zach? Have you aged into a fine wine? Or are you going up my sons nose in the grocery store?

Admittedly Zach, I don't know everything about you. Maybe you're off doing great things these days. Maybe you're a decorated wrestler in a federation I've never heard of. Frankly, when I googled your name, I found more hits about James Raven than yourself. I mean, I saw that you were ranked like 42nd out of the top 50 wrestlers in XWF. I don't know how many people were in the fed, maybe 55? But, I mean, I'm not going to get all worked up about #42. Maybe you've gotten better since then, I didn't really look to timestamp on this whole Top 50 thing.

What I do know Zach is that you're in over your head. I know Legion asked you to be here. It's not going to end well for you Zach. You're going to be so focused on your former boss that you probably wont even be paying attention to me. You don't know me from a hole in the wall. You may have seen my name from early on in The Experts. But that's it. So why would you think to put any time or preparation into facing me?

Well, I'll make you pay if you do look past me. People may come in that have more skill, people may come in that are naturally more athletic. But  no one will come in more prepared than I am. When it comes to The Experts, when it comes to getting into that goddamn Siberian prison, I'm going to be ready. So Zach and this goes for you too Raven, don't come into this match with anything less than 100%, or frankly, you'll be fucked.

Mark winks at the camera and the scene goes black. SCENE

[The Raven]

JAMES RAVEN
in
THROWBACK EXPERTS GRAPHICS FOR THE WIN!

I remember the Siberian Prison.

I remember the screams of my fellow inmates echoing through the darkness, bouncing floor to ceiling and ricocheting off the walls as I tried to sleep. I remember the food they brought me each morning, or I at least remember the gruel they tried to pass off as something edible. It was gritty; sticking to the roof of my mouth and my teeth for the better part of the rest of the day. I remember the dried blood that caked the concrete floors, the sour stench of vomit and piss and shit wafting into my nostrils as I was led to battle each and every week.

Oh yes.

I remember the battles too.

Tommy Valentine, "The Arbiter" X, Riley Storm, Abbey Spears, Stoner, Cecile Lecrux, Ryan Ruckus, Xander Gates... I remember them all, and I remember fighting my way through each and every one of them until I was crowned the Siberian Wrestling Warehouse Champion, and until I eventually earned my way out of that hell hole. I wasn't there long. I didn't want to be. I wasn't looking to earn brownie points with the fans for hardcore matches fought and pints of blood spilled, and I didn't find any sense of self-worth by proving I could endure worse conditions than anyone else.

I was there by circumstance. I was there on a mission, and once I was finished I never wanted to see that place again.

Never.

It's been eight years. Eight fucking years since I walked out of that facility and said I'd never look back, and yet I still have nightmares about the SW/TFWF Ice Storm at least once a month.

Despite all I've just said, here I stand again... staring it in the maw. Fuck this place.

"Welcome to Siberia," he whispers quietly, his voice gruff and raspy from too many chain-smoked cigarettes with a vodka chase. He looks at me in the rearview mirror of the car, a slight twinkle in his eyes as the he amuses himself with visions of the hell he knows I'm about to face. The Siberian prison was stuff of legend when it was in operation, and this sadistic son of a bitch seems more excited than anyone to see it come back.

"I've been here before," I tell him, "I'd have preferred not to be back."

"I can't blame ya," he grins through rotted teeth.

I stare blankly ahead through the snow covered windshield, playing it calm and cool, but he doesn't buy it for a second. He can see I'm nervous. He loves it. He continues to eye me through the mirror, then lets out a soft chuckle... the mirth quickly fades away from his face though as he turns and looks out his own window, the snow falling silently to the earth and covering every inch of the world around us.

"God damn it, this is going to be unpleasant" he mutters, pulling the zipper of his jacket all the way up under his neck and making sure the flaps of his fur lined hunters hat are securely over his ears. Thick ridges appear across the bridge of his nose, his brow furrowing deeply and dipping down over his small and beady eyes... how cute, he's concentrating. He takes a deep breath, and in one quick motion pulls the handle and throws the door open, leaping from the safety of the drivers seat and into the ice box.

The car door slams shut after a maximum of five seconds, but it's too late. The frigid night air invades the warm and comfortable vehicle, nearly sending me into shock as it hits my bare flesh and spreads across my body. Goosebumps pop up across my arms and legs, my nose begins to drip and my eyes begin to water... to be honest, my nipples go hard enough to cut glass... hello, ladies. I'm sure that's more information than you wanted, but in the words of a smooth talking southern actor, 'frankly my dear, I don't give a damn'.

I peer out the windows of the car, teeth chattering and muscles seizuring violently to try and keep warm, and watch my transporter make his way around to the back door, his head low to stop the wind from hitting his face directly and his fists jammed tightly down into his pockets. He opens my door, and the wind hits me again; this time like a freight train.

"MOTHER FUCKING FUCK!" I scream, pulling my own jacket tightly around my body. It's not enough.

"Get out, you eloquent silver tongued devil, you," he shouts over the howling gusts, "You're letting all the warm air out."

I brace myself and step out of the vehicle, my boots crunching into the powder as he slams the door shut behind me. The facility stands before me, a looming fortress of misery. I turn to my driver, who motions for me to head inside.

"They'll be waiting for you, I think you're the last person here!" he shouts at me, "Get moving, I'll bring in the bags!"

I turn back to the prison, and take a few more labored steps through the snow towards the main gate. There's no avoiding this now. There's no turning back.

Have I mentioned fuck this place?



Leave it to The Experts. This whole thing has been fucked from Jump Street. From thinking I was agreeing to an Extreme Tournament, to finding out I would be dealing with Rizza's ugly face for the dozenth time. From not getting my flight info in time, to getting Mr. Sunshine as a taxi driver. Through it all, they've somehow managed to top themselves by putting me in my old cell for my stay. It's a nice touch.

At least it would be if I had been the least bit nostalgic.

I've been standing in the corner of the cell for the last hour, a half empty bottle of Crown Royale in my hand as I take repeated swigs and survey the cramped corridors I must once more call my own. It doesn't look like it's been touched since I left. The same cot that used to put a strain in my back each night still sits in the corner, the same carvings adorning the walls that did when I was tenant.

My own "fuck this place" is scrawled just below the window, having been etched there in my first week of service with Siberia Wrestling. What can I say? It's a sentiment I've held for a long, long time.

I shouldn't have expected any better. The Experts have always focused on the things I prefer to forget. Nobody remembers when Level One and I were the Lone Survivors in the Rival Nations match, and nobody seems to care about the time I spent in TWC or BCW... it's like SW was the only place I ever existed to them. Don't even get me started on the XWF. They hated that place, and anyone that succeeded there seemed to carry this stench around them as far as the rest of the companies were concerned. "Succeeded there" was an understatement for me. I WAS the XWF. I carried that place when I had to, I built my legacy there. I was a three time Universal Champion, a three time World Champion, 120+ career wins and a spot in the Hall of Legends... but nobody ever cared. People like Greg Manix and Scorpio looked to turn me into a joke because of who I worked for, top companies would tell me their rosters were full and put me on waiting lists that never got shorter as dozens of people would get the call before me.

Now? Now I'm being looked at as some invader, some intruder looking to tarnish the legacy and honor of something that all I ever tried to do was help build... I never came to these events or companies looking to seize power, or push some sort of pro-XWF agends. I was never here to destroy the community that you all refused to let me in to. I just kept trying.

I'm sure you're all having a big laugh now, aren't you?

"Holy shit, I can't believe he agreed to be here! Quick, let's throw him back in the prison and see if we can pull his old whipping boy out of obscurity and pair them together against our Glorious White Knight, Mark Mania! Is there anything else we can do to drive him bat shit? Can we just punch him in the dick when he walks in?"

I take another deep swig of the whiskey, a thin trail of the amber liquid running down my stubble swept chin and falling to the floor. Maybe it's just the alcohol talking. Maybe I'm paranoid, and the trail of conspiracy is nothing more than coincidence.

Maybe.

Maybe not.

I'll put my cards on the table, I don't care anymore. You won, Experts. You outlasted me. I'm not the same guy I used to be, with the chip on my shoulder and the willingness to take over the world. I'm not here to prove anything to anyone, and I'm certainly not here to try and take your honor. I'm here because I told a friend I would be, and I'm here because Rizza has been trying to get a win over me for the better part of a decade; singles, tag, triple threats, hardcore, Hell Dome... anything he could think of, and he's always come up short. I'd like to keep it that way. I don't want to leave Siberia with one more recurring nightmare in my rotation.

Mark Mania; you do your thing, brother. I know they're all cheering for you. I know I'm only here to try and help tell your story, and that if you win the crowd will literally explode at seeing the two intruders vanquished.

I'm the renegade. The outsider. The lone wolf. The hired gun.

I'm the mother fucking Peoples G.O.A.T.

I'll be whatever you want me to be, Mark... I'll even be your Huckleberry. Just don't expect me to be an easy fight.

I think I'm the last one here. I'll get the lights on my way out.

Fear the Raven... Forevermore.