Rex Evans vs Mark Mania

[Alex Smiley]

Reminder:

- Word limit for Group Stage matches is 1500.
- 1 RP per wrestler per match.
- Deadline: December 2, 2018, at 11:59PM Pacific.

[Mark Mania]

"Hey, this is my fourth time trying to reach out. You should've called me. I don't think this is a good idea for you."

*CLICK*

"Hey, me again, you've got to answer the phone eventually. Listen, It's been a long time, everything is going good for you, don't get involved, you don't know what's coming."

*CLICK*

"Alright, if this is what you want. I'll see you Tokyo."

*CLICK*



I've given him every chance I could. If he wants to step back into the world of wrestling and he's decided to do it at the highest level, that's on him. I assumed he was perfectly happy out of the public eye, but here we are... The Extreme Tournament... and fucking Smitty is in it.



Mark had just exited his favorite restaurant in New York, Scarpetta, when his phone buzzed. He fumbled for it anxiously, hoping it might be Smitty returning his call. To his dismay, he saw it was his assistant Rosa Rodriguez. He composed himself before answering the phone.

"This is Mark."

"Yeah, I know who it is, I called the number."

Mark rolled his eyes, "What do you want Rosa?"

"I wanted to see if you were in New York yet, I'm about to fly up from Boston and I didn't want to miss the spaghetti."

"Ah shit, sorry, you were busy, I'm walking out of Scarpetta right now, I'm getting ready to head back to the hotel."

"You asshole! You know I love Scott Conant, I wanted to eat there!"

"We're here for a while, they'll be plenty of opportunity. See you when you get here. I think our rooms are next to each other at the Peninsula."

"Not quite Siberia, eh?"

"You've got that right." Mark thought back to his experiences in that prison, once as Crazy Joe and now just a few months ago in a normal head space.

"Have you gotten a chance to look into Rex at all yet?"

"Yeah, I've known of the guy for years anyways, we were in the same Survive and Conquer match at APW one year."

"No shit?"

"Yeah, the year he came in third place we actually crossed paths in the match. I got entered in early and had just had that match with Buckson Gooch for the Overdrive title so he got the better of me with a fallaway slam, but that was a whole other life ago."

"Yet, you're still thinking about it?"

"I always remember people who got the better of me when they had no business doing so."

"Oh yeah, Tommy tough guy."

"Har, har, har, goodbye Rosa, safe flight."

Mark hung up before Rosa responded as his car was pulling up outside the restaurant. His driver opened up the door for him and Mark hopped in the back.

"Thanks Bill, when'd you get down here?"

"Just before you Mr. Mania. I wasn't sure what your plan was so I wanted to make sure I was ready."

"That's a shit drive from Boston eh? About 4 hours?"

"Wasn't a problem Mr. Mania."

"I hate this city. Too crowded, too dirty, and a bunch of damn Yankee fans."

"I'm sure wearing the Red Sox cap is helping with everyone being really friendly?"

Mark grabbed his cap off his head and ran his fingers over the B, "Another great year in Boston. The wins keep stacking up. I'm ready to add another one of those to the list this year Bill."

"I've got nothing but faith in you, sir. You've already had two great wins since The Experts came back. James Raven and Leander Apollo"

"Oh come on Bill, don't suck up to me. They weren't even close to legitimate opponents. They may as well not of shown up. I've gotten so sick of being put in these matches where it's not even a contest. I need something more, I'm desperate for something more!"

"Is Mr. Evans something more?"

"Well, at least I know he'll actually give a damn about the match. He put in valiant effort in that Golden Ticket Ladder match. But he's got to understand, I've been around since the very first Extreme Tournament, he's only been around since 2012. The Experts are my life. I may not run them, I may not have been very involved in the Eternal Circle, but I sat around the table when we were coming up with this shit. Jesse Gunn and I talked every single day when The Experts came back. So I don't care how much of an effort Rex is going to put in. I'm ready."

"Sounds good, sir."

Mark smiles and looks out the window as Bill drives away.



The Peninsula Hotel
New York, NY

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome into my humble abode for the next few weeks. My name is Mark Mania, the C.E.O. of Mania Enterprises, and I'm here to talk to you all about THE Extreme Tournament."

"As you all know, this isn't my first Experts rodeo, I've been wrestling in Experts affiliated federations and events for 18 years..."

Has it really been 18 years? Shit.

"But there's something different about this year that I can taste in the air. I don't know if it's seeing all these former True Experts; Jack, Doug, Sewaside, Georgie, and of course, my two personal favorites, Level-One and Smitty. But it just feels like it's too perfect. The only thing that could make this better is if that old decrepit 'knight' Jesse Gunn walked through the doors."

"Now before I go on, let me just let our friend Rex Evans know that I'll be getting to him in a minute. But I can't come on all your televisions, computers, iPhones, iWatch's, refrigerators, or whatever you're using to consume these days, without talking about how great it feels to be in a field with Level-One and Smitty again."

"Obviously Smitty is my cousin and the first ever True Expert Champion, a true legend in his time. But let me just really emphasize the 'his time' portion of that. Because that poor bastard has no idea what's coming for him these next few months. And of course, just a shout-out to Level-One who I wrestled against for years in APW and is one of the greatest there is and who I really can't wait to bash his skull in with a Mania Madness one more time."

"Okay, enough drudging up the past, we all know why I'm here. This week I'll be going one on one with the no-longer incarcerated but still dresses in all orange Rex Evans. Rex, I've been looking into you a bit these last few days since I knew that we would be facing off against each other and I'm surprised by how much we have in common."

"You've got your own little rip-off of Mania Enterprises with 'Brutal Enterprises'. I'm sure you're doing great work there, the name isn't off-putting at all. I see that you got your start in Experts events and have competed in Experts federations, so you're like me, an Experts guy. About 12 years after me, but still, you're trying."

"We've also crossed paths with the same people a lot the past 6 years. At the APW Survive & Conquer you were a final three with two of the best APW performers in history in Sally Talfourd and Terry Marvin. And you know, I see you going on and talking about how proud you were of yourself in that match, and don't get me wrong, somehow stumbling into being one of the last 3 is impressive. But I have never seen such disparity between 1-2 and 3. At that time Terry Marvin was on the top of his game. He was winning everything left and right. He was an innovator and I fought with him in APW during that kick. And then, you have Sally Talfourd who I put right there with Level-One as one of the greatest of all time. You never stood a chance in there. It's like if you're comparing Tom Brady, Joe Montana, and Brad Johnson. Oh, who's Brad Johnson you ask? Well, he won the Super Bowl in 2003. That's a big achievement, but does anyone give a shit about Brad Johnson or does he ever get talked about as one of the best? For sure not. I think we can put to rest this excitement about Survive & Conquer, which was the last time we were actually in a ring together."

"Let's move on to the present a little bit here Rex. I know you've got a tough background and that you feel like your time in the prison really hardened you up, but this is the EXTREME tournament. You're going to have to be willing to go all out to compete in this. You're going to have to give it everything you've got for every single second you're in my ring. In the Golden Ticket ladder match you got sloppy. You had the whole ring to yourself and then BOOM Alexia hits you in the face with a ladder to ruin your hopes. I mean, you're a guy who doesn't want to use weapons in a goddamn ladder match, what chance did you have? If you're not willing to do anything you're not going to have what it takes for this match."

"I know you've said that your main reason for being in this match is to finally prove that you belong, but let me tell you, looking around the field of people in this match, I think you should just go home to Alex, Tommy, and little Danny and let them know that there's more work to be done, because you don't belong here. Not this week, not this year. This is MY year and it all starts this week."

[Tritch]

"I thought you were done with that. Locked it up, threw away the key," Tommy's voice was a bit more broken than normal. Raspy, filled with some emotion. Sorrow? Fear?

"I was," came Rex's response. Cold. Distant. "Now I'm not."

December 2nd, 2018 - New York City, New York

I've been staring at this blank piece of paper for over a week, ever since I got confirmation that the Tournament was going to happen, and that I'd be one of its entrants. I've been sitting, staring, thinking

The keys jingled on their way back to his pocket as Rex turned the knob of his office door, looking over his shoulder as he pushed in and flipped the switch. Tommy stared past him at the door in the back corner, the bookshelf that normally conceals it already pushed aside.

"You've already been down?" Tommy asked rapidly, shooting his hand out to grab his brother's arm as they were halfway to the door. Rex stopped, looking back at him with a nod and a deep breath.

"I had to get it ready. But I know what it does to me. I know who it makes me. So, I wanted you to know," another deep breath, this one more like a sigh. "I wanted you to be the one to drag me out of it, when it's time."

It's been months since the Experts returned. Names that were once on the tip of everyone's tongues had laid dormant for years, before suddenly being thrust back into the limelight. Names like

Seven years ago, the Experts provided the stepping stone that launched my career, but they died before they got to see the fruits of their labor. I climbed the ranks of two of their pillars, holding their prize high above my head, but they weren't there to see it. My name isn't remembered like

"That's not fair," Tommy finally choked out as Rex was already opening the door. The elder brother stopped, his shoulders and head drooping.

"I know it's not," another sigh. "You can say no," he turned around, eyes just as cold and distant as his voice had been earlier. He was already changing, and Tommy could tell. "You can turn around and walk out of here before getting involved."

There was a long pause as the two brothers just stared at each other.

"That's not fair either, Rex."

When people look at me they see a criminal. They see the convict I was when I first broke into the Experts scene. Even my biggest fans, when they close their eyes and an image of me flashes on the back of their eyelids, I'm wearing a jumpsuit. Because that's what people like Ja-- people like Mar--

I watched your video, Mark. I'm

FUCK

The stairwell was just as dark as always, the basement beyond only dimly lit by a hanging lightbulb. The wooden stairs creaked beneath Rex's weight with each step, but hardly made a peep as Tommy quietly followed.

"You don't have to stay. I'd- I'd actually prefer you didn't. Just check in, make sure everything's okay. Make sure I've got what I need," Rex stopped at the bottom of the stairs, blocking Tommy's view of the old familiar scene below, casting one final glance over his shoulder. "You know?"

"Yeah," Tommy's voice was laced with a bit of anger now, but still riddled with that fear and sorrow. "I remember."

Some people think that being in the business for a long time means something. They think that because they were there first, because they did something first, that automatically makes them better. When I was in high school, I idolized people like-- When I was in high school, I idolized the people that beat the shit out of Mar--

It's been a long time since I've written one of these things. I'm trying to rectify the turmoil within my mind. I'm trying to reconcile the man I used to be with the man I've become... and the man I need to be now, here, for this. The Extreme Tournament. Words don't come as easily as they used to because it's hard to express in words just how much

Rex took a few deep breaths, pounding a fist against his chest as he pulled the t-shirt off of his back. Tommy leaned against the wall next to the stairs, watching with furrowed eyebrows and crossed arms. Rex leaned forward and flipped another switch, illuminating the inside of the makeshift prison cell he built so many years ago. Tommy winced, but Rex's eyes flickered.

The cell was identical to the one he'd spent so much time in back on Rikers, but it was different this time. He stepped in, fists clenched, staring at the back wall... Staring at several pictures on the wall, all of similar size and equally spaced out, save one. One was bigger and taped above the rest. The man in the photograph wore a sickening grin, a grin that made Rex's cheeks twitch even in a photo.

"I'm ready," he muttered, and with a sigh Tommy pushed off the back wall, stepping forward, and shutting the barred door behind his brother.

I made a mistake when I decided to come back with the Experts. The people closest to me would say that coming back to them at all was the mistake, but that wasn't it. The mistake was thinking I could come back as the Rex Evans retirement had made me. The mistake was thinking that I could come back with a smile, holding onto my happy-go-lucky businessman facade. The mistake was thinking I could step back into the ring with Jack Benevolence... without going back to the place he took me.

I came within an inch of being the True Expert a few weeks ago. I came within an inch of accomplishing the goal I set for myself when I watched from my dorm room Sandy Makel pin Jack Benevolence in the middle of the ring to win the Extreme Tournament. But Jack weaseled out of it again. I made a mistake thinking I could win and still let him walk out of the ring at the end of the night.

"You don't have to do th-" Tommy started but was cut off by Rex clicking a button on the small stereo set in the corner of his cell, letting the loud sounds of metal fill the room. The Brute turned toward the door, casting a glance not at his brother, but past him. It was a look Tommy recognized, and it caused him to take a step back.

"Yes," Rex said, barely loud enough to be heard over the blaring music, before leaping up to grab onto the pipe above him. "I do."

This is bullshit. What's the point in dredging up the past in written form? What's the point of highlighting all of these things for an opponent and a fanbase that doesn't give a fuck about any of it? All Mark cares about is getting into that ring and trying to beat me. All the fans care about is watching us do it. Fuck this.

This is the Extreme Tournament.
To excel in an endeavor such as this, you have to be willing to do anything.
You have to be willing and able to do whatever it takes.
The Rex Evans that I had become... he wasn't.
To beat Mark Mania...
To win the Extreme Tournament...
To beat... him...
I had to become someone else.
I had to become something else.
I had to become the animal that he created in Siberia.
Congratulations, Jack.
You won.
Now you're going to lose everything.

"Do you feel better?" Tommy asked on the sixth day, the day before New York, as he unlocked the cell door. His brother was still on the floor, feet under a pile of bricks as he did sit ups in the direction of the images. He didn't answer the question at first, just stared, continuing his set. "Did you hear me?"

"No," a hoarse voice replied as he finally stopped in the upright position, still staring. "I don't feel better. This was never about feeling better. You know that."

He sat there a moment longer, Tommy hovering in the doorway, both lingering in silence, before the Avatar of Brutality finally rose to his feet. His beard was back, his hair a bit longer than normal, but it was his eyes that told the story. He grabbed a towel, dabbing the sweat off his face, before turning toward the door. He didn't look directly at his brother, but rather past him, waiting for him to lead the way.

"There's something you should watch," Tommy said, holding his phone out towards him, but Rex shook his head. "He, uh. He said Da-"

He didn't even finish the word before Rex's gaze shot toward him to lock onto his eyes with fury and rage, causing the much smaller brother's head to snap back in a guttural reaction to the sudden movement. Rex snatched the phone out of his hand to watch the video.

Context means nothing to me.
You were just another body standing in my way, Mark.
But then you said his name.
Now, I'm going to make you feel every letter.
Protect your ribs.