cagewrestler New Blood - Old Grudges -

New Blood - Old Grudges

Rosser sat upright on the bench, chest heaving, his skin soaked with sweat. Nothing beat a good workout when you were frustrated and didn't know what to do. Football season was over for the Freshman and he had been stellar on the JV team as a kamikaze free safety. Coach was talking about him making the starting varsity lineup next year as a Sophomore. He only wished he was a year older so he could have played with his brother Connor, but this had been Connor's last year and the senior linebacker was done with football. Connor had explained to his brother that he wasn't quite big enough for the college programs and the knee injury in the last came in November had pretty much shut that door. Nothing super serious, but Connor knew that on big time programs there were probably 300 pound offensive linemen who had better times in the 40 than he did.

Still, Rosser thought, it sucked. His brother, big dummy that he was before the knee injury had healed had taken on Geoffery's challenge in a JW event and in what some say was one of the biggest upsets of the year, Geoffrey had gotten a submission win over Conner, viciously working over his injured knee before locking in a Scorpion Death Lock. Rosser moved over to the chest machine, visualizing Geoffrey's head being in between the plates as he brought them together had with a CLANG!

Geoffrey was a conceited bastard, and what made things worse was he had made varsity as starting wide receiver as a Sophomore. Last year, Rosser's first on the JV team, Geoffrey had made his life miserable in practices, showing the undersized defensive back moves he had never seen before. Still, Rosser had to admit that practicing against someone as good as Geoffrey had made him a better player.

"Hey runt! You're still only half a Jason Sehorn - better stock up on your creatine supplements!"

"Oh great," Rosser thought to himself, "it's the blond adonis himself along with his dork friend Mason!"

Geoffery had just come out of the lap pool and had not bothered to towel off. His ever present sidekick Mason horse-laughed at his buddy's remark. "Geez Geoff, you ran one brother off but the runt is still around!"

The blond smirked. "Hey Rosser, your brother off his crutches yet? Man he was screaming like a little girt when I locked in that Scorpion Death lock last month. Big bad linebacker didn't seem that tough to me!" To put it mildly, the victory had boosted an already colossal ego.

Rosser took a deep breath. He was by himself, and his smart mouth had gotten him in trouble before. Mason was dumb as a brick wall, but with Geoffrey's leadership he was a formidable weapon of destruction. Still. . .

"Oh look, it's Mr. Modest and his sidekick Mr. Ed the talking horse head. Be still my heart. You talk really big after one fluke win. If they hadn't made the decision to shut down JW I might show you a trick or two in the ring myself."

The blond smirked at his friend. "Well good news, little man. In case you haven't heard the TW group has agreed to let us into their organization, and I need an opponent for this weekend to impress my soon to be adoring new fans. So it looks like you've got a date with destruction!" The two big teens turned, laughing as they made their exit.

"Oh shit!"

************

"YOU WHAT????????? YOU STUPID LITTLE PRICK, WHY CAN'T YOU KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT?????"

Rosser had just broken the news to his brother who was not taking it well. It was bad enough as a senior to submit to a Sophomore, but now it was going to look like he was sending his little brother to fight his battles. The knee was just about OK, his bout with Geoffrey having set back the rehab a few weeks. Still, the doctor would not release him to wrestle either on the school team or in JW for another couple of weeks.

"Come on, Connor, with you training me I can take the big duffus. I'm not the one who accepted a match with a bum knee. Anyway, you've been beating on me all my life - you've toughened me up. Don't worry, I can take him! Watch!"

With that, Rosser stood on his twin bed and launched himself through the air landing ontop of his brother on the other bed, and the bout was on! Finally, Conner straddled his brother's shoulders in a schoolboy pin, playfully slapping his face. Rosser grinned at him, the blue eyes sparkling. Conner could never stay mad at him, and Rosser knew it.

"OK, kiddo, we've got 3 days. Let's see if we can cook up a few surprises for our friend Mr. Modesty!"

*************

The crowd at the TW Arena had settled down a little from the heavyweight match between Cody and Jackson. There had been a brief intermission, and everyone was settling back into their seats when the ring announcer grabbed the mic.

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, OUR NEXT EVENT OF THE EVENING IS A SPECIAL CATCH-WEIGHT CHALLENGE MATCH PITTING TWO NEWCOMERS TO TW, BUT KNOWN WELL TO YOU JW WRESTLING FANS."

The Michael Buffer wannabe paused for effect.

"Introducing first, the challenger. He stands five feet, eight inches tall and tips the scales at a lean and mean 140 pounds. He likes to refer to himself as the Human Heatseeking Missile of Destruction, give it up for ROSSER!"

The curtains parted, and Rosser strutted out sunglasses on, leather jacket, and tight wet look black speedos. His brother Connor walked behind him, smiling and shaking his head at the show - he had to admit, the little punk knew how to make an entrance. Rosser stood next to the ring and made a straight vertical jump to the ring apron followed by another to the top turnbuckle - a pretty incredible vertical leap - followed by a backflip somersault, landing on his feet in the middle of the ring followed by a jacket strip and a Shawn Michael's kneeling double biceps pose. Have the crowd was laughing, but the boys in the back recognized the skill required for THAT entrance!

". . . and his opponent, accepting the challenge, standing five feet ten inches tall and weighing in at a ripped 163 pounds, he describes himself as every girl's fantasy but his opponent's worst nightmare. . . GEOFFREY!!!"

The blond walked out from the back with no jacket, just a white towel around his neck. He was a swimsuit junkie, and tonight he went with his All American stars and stripes speedo. His toady Mason brought up the rear, hands clapping for his buddy. A murmur went through the crowd - he definitely was a hot stud but you could tell he knew it. He deliberately climbed the ringside steps and stepped between the ropes to enter the ring. Confidence exuded from every pore. He was warmed up, a film of shiny sweat already covering his body, and ready to destroy the little runt across the ring.

The referee brought the two wrestlers to center ring. They were each followed by their seconds. "I know you two are new here in TW and I'm not sure how it was done in JW, but we follow the basic rules and wrestle to pinfall or submission. You get funny with me and I WILL disqualify you. Now. . . YOU and YOU," pointing a finger first at Mason and then at Connor, "get out of the ring, get away from ringside and go to the back or find a seat. Unless it is in the match agreement, which it isn't, we don't allow seconds or managers at ringside and after the last match I'm definitely enforcing that rule."

Connor gave his brother a hug and whispered in his ear, "Remember our strategy, Air Rosser!". He stepped out of the ring and grabbed an empty seat toward the back of the arena as Mason, confident that his buddy would have no problems, headed back into the dressing room area.

The bell rang, and the two teens met in center ring, locking up in a classic collar and elbow. Geoffrey whispered in Rosser's ear, "How do you want it runt, quick and painful or slow and painful?" as he slowly forced his smaller opponent back into the corner. The ref quickly stepped in and asked for a break, and Geoffrey grinned and backed off, hands in the air. Rosser kept a wary eye on his opponent and quickly slipped away from the corner. Geoffrey didn't move, instead draping his arms across the ropes in the corner and smirking at Rosser. "Come on punk, take your best shot!"

Rosser grinned and shook his head, "I'm not that stupid," and turned around to move away. Geoffrey saw his spot and lunged as Rosser turned on a dime and launched himself into the air hitting a perfect flying drop kick square into Geoffrey's petty boy face. The stunned teen stumbled backwards, falling and hitting his head on the second turnbuckle as he sat down hard on the canvas.

"Bronco busting time!" yelled Rosser as he flew across the ring landing crotch first into Geoffrey, riding the corner ropes as he bounced up and down on his opponent's chest, humiliating him. The ref moved in to break the move, since they were in the ropes, and Rosser backed off, but as Geoffrey staggered to his feet, Rosser launched himself into the air and landed crotch first again on the staggering blond teen. As Geoffrey stumbled toward center ring with the added weight of Rosser around his neck, the young teen launched his body backwards and with Geoffrey's head firmly scissored between his thighs flipped the blond muscle teen over in the air as he landed in school boy position and started pounding away.

Geoffrey's legs were thrashing wildly as Rosser pounded away at the blond's forehead while the ref moved in and tried to physically remove the wildcat from his position on Geoffrey's chest. The crowd was getting into the match now, especially since the JW fans in attendance had given the TW fans a little background on the two and their family feud.

Rosser was finally pulled off and he mounted the corner ring ropes arms in the air, screaming to the approving crowd, "Oh Yeh, Air Rosser!" He jumped down as Geoffrey staggered to his feet. Rosser cocked his head to one side looking at the stunned blond and then from a standing position leaped up in the air and nailed the big teen with another flying drop kick. Lights were flashing in Geoffrey's eyes as each time he managed to stagger to his feet he would turn his head to see Rosser's boots headed toward his head one more time as Rosser hit dropkick after drop kick.

Rosser's heart was racing from all the flying, so it was time to slow things down. He and Connor had agreed that he needed to avoid going to the mat with the more muscular Geoffrey except in certain circumstances, but here was a perfect opportunity. The last dropkick still had the blond stunned on the mat, so Rosser sat down on the mat and pulled Geoffrey's head into his crotch, locking on a figure 4 head scissors.

Rosser had tremendous leg strength the result of all the running he did as a defensive back in football, and cinched the head scissors in tight, then leaned backwards out of harms way. He cranked down, cutting off the blood supply as Geoffrey's legs thrashed wildly at first, but as time wore on began to slow more and more. The crowd was a little stunned that this lightweight wrestler giving away 23 pounds was effectively controlling his bigger opponent. As the blond's sweat-soaked body slowed its movements, the referee came in to check to make sure he was still conscious. Geoffrey felt the ref lift and drop his arm, his mind aware of what was happening, but his body unable to respond. A second time he felt his arm drop, and he knew the end was near. Rosser was grinning as he poured on the pressure and Connor was on the edge of his seat, whispering to himself, "tighter Rosser, tighter!"

With one last effort Geoffrey twisted his body, showing the ref he was still around, and with the twist he managed to take some of the pressure off the carotid artery, although he was still trapped between Rosser's muscular smooth legs. He felt his breath coming back, but played possum. He knew if Rosser thought the hold was still working he wouldn't move on to something else. . . and Geoffrey needed the rest.

Rosser was juiced. The blond had shown no offense and Rosser had controlled the match completely. Geoffrey's TW wrestling debut was going to be a humiliating loss to a lightweight wrestler! He failed to notice that Geoffrey had turned his body enough to begin to gather his knees underneath him. With a sudden movement, Geoffrey went from his knees to his feet and with Rosser still figure foured around his head he fell backwards and Rosser slammed into the mat face first taking the full brunt of the move right in the face.

The crowd went wild over the move, because to be honest, there were more than a few who were very turned on the the blond teen stud. Geoffrey staggered to his feet and quickly dropped a knee into the small of Rosser's back. The smaller teen's back arched in pain as the knee found its mark again and again. This was the break that Geoffrey had needed. It was time to ground Air Rosser.

The blond muscle teen had his second wind now. He was in top shape and could take it as well as dish it out. He lifted Rosser up by the hair, bringing his opponent to his feet, then whipping him into the corner turnbuckle. Rosser hit with such force that he bounced right back out only to be me with a running clothesline that caught him just under the chin and drove him back into the corner turnbuckle once again. Geoffrey pressed his sweat-soaked chest against Rosser's as he gripped the teen's hair, pulled his head back and whispered in his ear, "Thought you might like than defensive back high bridge tackle. You've tried it on me in practice enough!"

Connor was on the edge of his seat again, but this time in trepidation. This was just what he warned Rosser about. Don't get cornered where Geoffrey could use his strength. Connor had outweighed Geoffrey by 17 pounds when they wrestled in JW, but had difficulty out muscling the blond. He knew Geoffrey had unbelievable muscle strength in spite of that swimmer's build.

With Rosser trapped in the corner, Geoffrey drove knee after knee into the pit of the young teen's stomach. Rosser still had not developed the rock hard as of his hero Jason Sehorn and the pounding was taking its toll. The air was almost completely gone from his lungs when the referee finally placed his body between the two teens and forced Geoffrey back to the center of the ring.

The big blond's chest was heaving from the exertion and the fans could tell that in spite of his taking control of the match, the smaller teen had really given him a match. As the referee was giving a ten count to the teen collapsed in the corner of the ring, Geoffrey pushed him aside and pulled Rosser out by the arm, whipping him into the ropes. As Rosser bounced off the ropes, he was caught in Geoffrey's bearhug. The shorter teen's legs wrapped around Geoffrey's muscular thighs, suspended above the mat, as he writhed in agony, trapped in the big blond's powerful arms. What little air that was left in his lungs was being forced out as Geoffrey worked the bearhug, pumping his arms. While at first glance, the big blond had a swimmer's build when his guns got fully pumped he looked awesome.

The crowd was breathless from the intensity of the hold and the match as a whole. Geoffrey continued to work the bearhug in the middle of the ring for what seemed to be an eternity. As he pumped his arms he kept whispering in Rosser's ears, "Come on runt, I want to hear you cry. Come on, beg me to quit hurting you, just like your brother begged me!"

Rosser couldn't believe how the tide had turned. He had plenty of catch-weight matches in his JW days against middleweights, but Geoffrey's strength was almost freakish. Geoffrey was just as strong if not stronger than Rosser's brother Connor. The sweat pouring off the two young bodies was lubricating the hold as Geoffrey's powerful arms pumped up and down Rosser's torso, moving from the small of the back, up to the kidney area, and finally up just beneath the diaphragm, each spot causing a unique pain response to explode in Rosser's brain.

The referee moved in to check Rosser's arms. Geoffrey knew Rosser was out of it but wanted to prove a point. The punk had embarrassed him during the first part of the match, and now he was going to pay. Plus, as an added bonus, Connor was watching and he knew he was feeling the pain his brother was enduring. He moved away from the referee, Rosser still trapped in the bearhug and launched himself into the air driving his limp opponent into the mat with a perfect belly to belly suplex. The loud THUD on the mat brought a gasp from the crowd. Geoffrey got to his feet, grinning and flexing in a with a Shawn Michael's double bicep pose over his fallen opponent, mocking Rosser's ring entrance.

Over the PA system came the announcement: "Fifteen minutes are gone in this twenty minute time limit match. Five minutes remain!"

Geoffrey decided it was time to end it. Giving the classic "It's all over" hand signal, he slowly mounted the top rope and launched himself off the top turnbuckle high into the air in the classic "Five Star" frog smash.

Frog legs anyone?

Geoffrey had taken just enough time to give Rosser a little breath and the teen managed to roll out of the way just in time. Geoffrey rolled on the mat in pain. Rosser drug himself over to his opponent and pulled him up, underhooking his arms and flipping backwards with a snap suplex. Three times Rosser repeated the maneuver. Geoffrey was out of it, and with two minutes left in the match, Rosser mounted the top turnbuckle. It was Tomahawk Missile time as he waited for the big blond to stagger to his feet. Rosser took careful aim and nailed the move. Geoffrey dropped to the mat. Rosser mounted the far turnbuckle for the finisher as the ref stooped over Geoffrey to see if he was still in the same time zone.

As Rosser stood on the top rope, Mason, who had slipped up to ringside unnoticed, grabbed both ankles and pulled down, crotching the young teen on the top turnbuckle. Rosser moaned in pain, and dropped face first onto the mat. Grabbing the suffering teen by the ankles, Mason pulled him hard into the ringpost and then slammed Rosser's knee against the metal ringpost before dropping out of sight.

The ref and Geoffrey both looked over to see Rosser face first in the corner, the ref having to assume he had fallen. Geoffrey grinned, knowing better. He grabbed the barely conscious Rosser by the hair, and knowing that there was not much time left lifted him high into the air and dropped him across his knee in a vicious backbreaker. He pushed the broken teen off his knee, then standing in front of him reached down and wrapped his arms around Rosser's legs in the cloverleaf position and turned, forcing Rosser on his stomach as he leaned back with his signature move, the Scorpion Deathlock.

Connor, having seen what happened was rushing the ring, but was met by Mason. As the two big teens battled outside the ring, Rosser pounded the mat and screamed his submission.

Over the PA system came the announcement, " Your winner by submission with the Scorpion Death Lock, in 19 minutes 12 seconds, GEOFFREY!!!!!!!!"

As the ref raised Geoffrey's arm in victory, the blond looked down on the battle outside the ring, and launched himself across the ring with a baseball slide, catching Connor in the back on the head as he battled with Mason. As Connor slumped forward, Mason underhooked his head and fell backwards with a DDT on the arena floor. Grinning, Geoffrey motioned for Mason to throw Connor to him in the ring. As his buddy rolled the big teen into the ring, Geoffrey began a series of stomps to the chest, stunning Connor. He grabbed the teen's head and pulled it up in between his legs and then locked his arms around Connor's waist. As he pulled the muscular teen up into the piledriver position and held it, Mason mounted the top rope. With sickening efficiency, Connor's head was jammed into the mat with a spike piledriver.

Geoffrey ginned down at Connor. "Now let's see just how far your knee rehab has come!" He bent over to lock his arms around Connor's legs as he prepared to step over into the Scorpion Death Lock. Slumped in the corner, Rosser's eyes widened in terror, he staggered to his feet only to be met by Mason. As the big teen held him off, Rosser slammed his fist as hard as he could into Mason's crown jewels, sending the thug into spasms as he curled into a fetal position, but Geoffrey was fixing to flip Connor over and there was no time to reach him.

Suddenly a figure flew off the top turnbuckle, clotheslining Geoffrey. The figure mounted the blond and began pummeling as the ref returned to the ring with reinforcements and cleared everyone out. Geoffrey and Mason stood outside the ring licking their wounds as they looked up to see Zack helping the two brothers to their feet.

Geoffrey screamed, "YOU???!! You mess with my business Zach and I'll send you back to the hospital!" The crowd looked on in amazement. There was a new group of wrestlers coming in for sure, but along with the new blood it was obvious that there were some old grudges.

END