Scapino1974

I stared at the computer screen, hardly believing my eyes. A week ago, I invested in some small business software. I figured it would be better to use the tools rather than fake it in a notebook I could easily lose at school or in my room. It had taken me all weekend to get the information entered into the software and, as the final bills and sponsorship money came in for the rest of January, I dutifully entered it all. Now that January was officially over, I checked to see how much money the RFW had on hand. According to the balance sheet, we had $4,535. Meaning we had almost doubled our seed money in a month. With shaking hands, I picked up my phone, took a pic, and texted it to Grace. The sent back a flurry of emojis that I think meant she was extremely excited. And I couldn’t help but feel that way as well. Was it possible? Were we actually going to make it? Well, better start planning for the next show then!

Monday of Week 2, January 2020 There was no way that I wanted to go into school the next day, but again, I didn’t think the school would buy a “I’m feeling the effects of my first pro wrestling match” as an excuse. Dad might have covered for me, but Mom wouldn’t have. She wouldn't be too keen on the whole RFW business. I slumped into my desk with a groan. My back still ached from where Jack kicked me the night before. I tried to see if I had a bruise there, but I couldn’t quite twist around to see for sure. I glanced around the homeroom to make sure I wouldn’t miss anything, and then tucked my chin to my chest and closed my eyes. Maybe I could get a few moments of sleep. “Hey!” Or not. Grace plopped down in the chair next to me. I frowned. Her homeroom was halfway across the building. “What are you doing here?” She held up a hall pass. “When a girl’s gotta go, right? So? How’d we do? What’s the finances looking like?” I sighed and pulled out a notebook from my backpack. I was using it to jot down booking ideas and keep track of other minutiae. I flipped to a page where I had been tracking our finances, such as they were. I would probably have to invest in an accounting software soon. “Near as I can figure, we paid out about two grand for the workers. And we only took in about four hundred in ticket sales. If it wasn’t for the sponsorship deals you worked out, we’d probably be in trouble right now. But as of right now, we’re still holding on to most of our seed money.” “That’s good, right?” I shrugged. “Hard to say. We’ll have to see what comes in over the next couple of weeks. By the end of the month, we should have taken care of all our bills and maybe taken in some more sponsorship money.” “Okay.” Grace grabbed my bicep and squeezed. “Gotta go. We’ll talk later, okay?” I knew we would. She hurried out of the room and I tried to go to sleep. But I wound up staring at that makeshift ledger. If this was the way things were going to work, we could be in trouble in about a year. Hopefully things would be better by the end of the month.

RFW All In Sunday of Week 2, January 2020 Held at the Rochester Civic Center in Rochester, MN (Mid West Region) 62 in attendance The arena was ridiculously empty. We had set up the ring and surrounded it with about a hundred folding chairs. When only a couple dozen people showed up, I’ll admit I was a little disappointed. But Freddie pulled me aside and told me to keep a brave face. “We all have to start somewhere.” Unfortunately, Chip Martin wasn’t going to be there. Nice enough guy, but he had medical clearance to stay out of the ring. So we had him stay away from the arena as well. Once the initial music died down, Grace and Curt welcomed what audience we had to the show. Grace explained that RFW management had booked two tournaments starting tonight. One would be for the RFW Tag Team Championship (“And we have some excellent teams who have shown up to fight for that title!” Grace said). And the other is the RFW Championship. We’d start off the tournament…right now! 1. JOHN “ACE” HART vs. PRIME TIME JACK PRYDE (First Round of the Championship Tournament) The audience simply didn’t care as Jack and I hit the ring. We did the best we could with a somewhat dead crowd. I think the wrestling was decent at least as we knocked each other around the ring. In the end, I hit Jack with my finisher, which I called the Ace of Harts. The name is a work in progress. WINNER: John “Ace” Hart in 17:15 RATING: 33 2. Jack was not pleased about losing. As I celebrated with the crowd (or more like, I celebrated as the crowd watched passively), he jumped me from behind and beat me down, finally dropping me to the mat and kicking me savagely in the stomach. RATING: 12 3. Grace left the announce table and got into the ring. Quentin Queen came out to join her. Grace smiled broadly and asked Quentin a number of questions about coming to RFW and what he hoped to accomplish. Quentin answered her questions, sticking to the script that Freddy and I worked out for him. Small problem: Grace tried to go off on her own, mostly to try to get the crowd into it a bit more. Unfortunately, while this caught the audience’s attention, it threw Quentin off and he stumbled over his answers. Grace had to carry most of the interview. RATING: 35 4. THE SILVER BULLET vs. THE HOT TAGGS (First Round match for the RFW Tag Team Championship) Texas Hangman and Wild Red Stallion came out to Bon Jovi’s “Blaze of Glory.” Don’t tell anyone, we can’t afford to be sued. Kalder and Wolfie Tagg came out next, snarling at the crowd. The match wasn’t much to watch. It dragged in the middle. Perhaps the most exciting thing that happened was when Wolfie tried to power out of a hold Wild Red Stallion had him in. He wound up wrenching Stallion’s shoulder pretty badly. Quincy, the referee, checked on Stallion, but he powered through to get Texas Hangman into the ring. Hangman put down Wolfie with a chokeslam, but Freddie commented to me that it looked like Hangman may have put a bit too much pepper on it, probably to send a message to Wolfie about being more careful in the future. WINNER: The Silver Bullet in 12:10 RATING: 15 5. JAY SILVER vs. ORIGINAL SINNER I let Freddy put this one together. Grace and Curt tried to play up the fact that Original Sinner is the son of Primal Rage. And Jay did his best to counter the big man’s offense. But the crowd just didn’t get into it. Original sinner eventually put Silver down. WINNER: Original Sinner RATING: 12 6. JOKERS WILD vs. THE SCOFIELD INDEX (First Round Match for the RFW Tag Team Championship) The team of Garry the Entertainer and Zippy Deverell came out to the ring. They bounced around the entrance and tried to get the crowd laughing as they made their entrance. Garry even had a ventriloquist dummy with him, and he spent a few moments before their opponents came out to do a couple of jokes. Then the team of Jerry Pepper and Pepper Pelton came out to the ring. They seemed a bit uncomfortable facing such an eccentric team. Once the match started, Zippy and Garry kept up their antics. At one point, Zippy tagged in Garry’s ventriloquist dummy. Garry tossed the stuffed monkey into the ring and yelled at Quincy the ref that the puppet was the legal man. Pepper Pelton looked extremely confused by it all and actually seemed a bit too hesitant to act. In the end, though, Jerry and Pepper put down Garry with a double-team move Grace identified as “the Carolina Reaper.” WINNERS: The Scofield Index in 7:38 RATING: 24 7. As the ring cleared out, a tag team called “Dreadmask” (i.e. Dreadnought and Masked Mauler VII) came out to the entrance. They complained about the fact that they had been left off the card for tonight and instead, those two clowns were allowed to compete. They vowed to act if this sort of thing was allowed to happen again. RATING: 24 8. CHARLIE CORNER vs. QUENTIN QUEEN (First Round Match for the RFW Championship) Charlie Corner came out to the rousing chords of a rock ballad. He looked like a refugee of an ‘80s hair band and the crowd got into a it a bit. Quentin Queen entered, hanging out by the entrance to examine Charlie as the “rock god” went from corner to corner to try to work up the crowd. Once the bell rang, Quentin took control. Good thing, too. Maybe it was because of nerves, but Charlie looked a little lost in the ring. In the end, Quentin hit Charlie with a move Curt called the Q-Ball and got the pin. WINNER: Quentin Queen in 15:14 RATING: 31 As the crowd left the arena, I gathered what workers were there for one last talk. “Guys, we had a pretty decent first show, I think. But I want to single out a few of you for doing some great work. Stallion, you kept going even after you got hurt. We all saw that you could have thrown in the towel, but you didn’t. Quentin, you handled that main event beautifully. And Grace, good job on the mic. “We won’t be getting together again for a month, but I’m confident that we laid a foundation that we’ll be able to build on in the coming months. Great work, everyone. See you again soon.” FINAL RATING: 30

Here’s how RFW shaped up… PRODUCT: The core product is Classic Balanced. There is a Face/Heel divide, but it’s not enforced. Stables are allowed but manager aren’t No weight split, everything else is pretty much as is. Our roster turned out like this: WRESTLERS: Charlie Corner Chip Martin (out injured for right now) Cockroach Carter Dreadnought Flying Patriot Garry the Entertainer James Diaz Jay Silver Jerry Pepper John “Ace” Hart Kalder Tagg Original Sinner Pepper Pelton Prime Time Jack Pryde Quentin Queen Texas Hangman The Masked Mauler VII Wild Red Stallion Wolfie Tagg Zippy Deverell ANNOUNCERS: Grace “Diamond” Kil Curt Meritt REFEREE: Quincy Jargon ROAD AGENT: Freddy Datsun

Much to my surprise, Grace’s videos were working. By the end of the week, we had been contacted by half a dozen would-be wrestlers who wanted to get in on the ground floor of whatever it was we were doing. We even had a few nibbles from guys who were working for some of the smaller companies as well. But after giving it a lot of thought, I decided to focus my attention on hiring guys who met two criteria: they had to be young and they should be unemployed. I figured that since Grace and I were still in high school for a few more months, we would want to have people working with us who would understand that. And I figured that unemployed wrestlers would be cheaper. Turns out, I was right. Most of the workers agreed to handshake contracts for about twenty to forty bucks a show. According to my back-of-the-napkin figuring, we would probably be able to put on a two hour show with five or maybe six matches a night once a month and come close to breaking even, if not earning a little bit of money. While Grace wanted to go all in and hire a whole bunch of people for big, spectacular shows, I had to pump her brakes a little. If we wanted this to grow into something real, we had to be careful. Which led to one of the harder conversations we had during that first week… *** “What do you mean, you’re not going to let me wrestle?” Grace asked. I winced at her anger. I suspected this was going to be an issue. “Look, we have limited resources and time right now,” I said. “Charity’s dad is giving us a deal for the space and equipment, so we don’t want to abuse that. Plus we can’t afford to hire that many support staff right now. The more matches we have, the longer the shows, the more people we’ll need to back us up, and the faster we’ll run out of money. Is that what you want?” Grace fumed and paced in my room. I could practically feel the anger boiling off her. “I’m not saying never,” I went on. “I’m saying, ‘Not yet.’ Let’s focus on male wrestlers for now and, if we’re able to keep this rolling, we’ll see what we can add in, okay?” Grace grumbled under her breath, but then sighed. “So what will I be doing?” “I figured you could be our announcer. I think you’d do a great job of hyping the matches. Maybe you can get in the ring and help the workers cut their promos?” Grace glared at me, but then her shoulders slumped and she nodded. “Fine. So who have we signed so far?” I let out a quick breath, relief coursing through me. I swiveled my laptop around so I could show her some of the workers I’d been hiring. “There’s a guy who calls himself Texas Hangman. He’s huge and no one has hired him yet. Plus we’ve been getting a lot of guys from Minnesota too. There’s a guy who calls himself Prime Time Jack Pryde. And we’ve even been getting some nibbles from guys with impressive legacies. You know Johnny Martin? His son, Chip, is going to work for us. He’s injured right now, so he won’t be able to make our first show, but I think he’ll be a good fit.” I went over the rest of the roster I’d been cobbling together. As I did, Grace’s annoyance melted away and her enthusiasm came back. *** Within a week of our initial announcement, we had our roster ready to go. We had the Civic Center rented out and Grace had taken charge of our publicity, getting the word out on social media and elsewhere. While I had focused my attention on unemployed wrestlers, I had to reach out to guys who already had jobs with other promotions. A guy named Quincy Jargon agreed to ref for us and I found Curt Meritt online as well. He was a versatile worker who was hanging out at RIPW, but I figured he’d be a good partner for Grace at the announce table. But the one problem we had was finding a road agent. While Grace and I had been watching a lot of wrestling and our final season of high school wrestling was wrapping up, we knew we needed someone who knew how to book the matches and get everything flowing. “We could try Vixxen maybe,” Grace suggested. “I hear she’s available.” “Do you know how to contact her?” I asked. She shook her head. I sighed and ducked around another knot of our classmates. It sucked that we had to go back to school when we had so much work to do to get ready for the first show. But I somehow doubted that my parents or Grace’s would accept that as an excuse. So we had to juggle as best as we could. We emerged into the frigid afternoon air and I pulled my letterman jacket closed. We headed for the student parking lot, continuing our discussion quietly. “Hart! Kil!” I froze. That wasn’t one of our classmates. That was an adult. I turned around to find who shouted at us and then froze. No way. Grace turned as well and squeaked. A pick-up truck, dented and rusted, was parked with one wheel up on the curb. An older man leaned against it, wearing a flannel shirt with his arms crossed over his muscular chest. I recognized him almost immediately. What was Freddie Datsun doing here? Freddie pushed off his truck and sauntered over to us. Up close, you could see the wear and tear, the scars from his years in the ring. But as he approached, his face split into a warm grin. “So you two are the ones who are starting Royal Flush Wrestling?” he asked, not unkindly. I stared at him, feeling like I had stepped into some weird dream. But Grace shot forward. “Mr. Datsun, it is an honor to meet you. Do you want to go get some coffee?” He chuckled. “Sounds good to me.” Grace dragged me to her car. My feet barely knew how to move at that point. But as we drove to the nearest Caribou, I snapped out of it. Thankfully, most of the people in the coffee shop didn’t recognize Freddie. We were able to get our orders and found a table in the back. Once Freddie settled in, he leaned back in his chair and said, “So. Royal Flush Wrestling. Tell me where you’re going with this.” Grace and I exchanged a look. “Honestly? We’re not sure,” I said. “We’re just putting this together and learning as we go.” “But we’re determined to put on the best shows we can,” Grace interjected. Freddie laughed and held up a hand. “No need to be so defensive. I just want to see what you’ve been up to so far. Fill me in.” And so Grace and I launched into an explanation of what we had been doing, who we had been in contact with, and how things had shaping up. Freddie listened to what we had to say, asking the occasional question about obscure details. He had a good poker face; I couldn’t tell what he was thinking until, forty-five minutes later, Grace and I wrapped up our rambling talk. Freddie pressed his hands together and nodded thoughtfully. Then he smiled. “It all sounds good. And I’d like to get in on this with you if I may. I’d like to work as your road agent.” An electric charge zipped up my spine. I could hardly believe it. Grace started bouncing in her seat next to me. Freddie raised a hand. “Not so fast. There are some strings here. First of all, I’m expecting to be paid for this. $400 a show, got it?” My throat tightened. That was the highest contract we would have on the books. I figured we could afford it, but this wasn’t something I had anticipated. “Second, you make sure to take care of her.” He pointed at Grace. “As near as I can tell, she’s going to be the only woman working in his promotion. That can get awfully lonely, especially if the wrong guys are in the mix. I’ll do my part, but you need to keep your eye on her too.” “I don’t think we’ll need to worry too much about her,” I said. “Grace could probably beat up anyone we hire.” Grace sat up a little straighter. Freddie smiled. “If that’s true, maybe you should put her in the ring.” Ow! She elbowed me in the gut, a smirk on her face. “Even still, you’ll need to keep the boys in line,” Freddy said. “You both may be calling the shots here, but John, you’re going to set the tone. Keep a firm hand on the wheel, and there’s no telling where we’ll go. Okay?” He held out his hand. I leaned over and shook it. So did Grace. “Then let’s get to it,” Freddy said. “First show’s in a week or so, right?” I nodded. “Perfect. Send me what you have on the workers and what you’re thinking of doing with them, and we’ll go from there.” With that, he headed out. As soon as he left the coffee shop, Grace grabbed my arm and squeezed. “This is gonna work!” she whispered. I nodded, feeling dizzy. It just might.

From TEW.com Royal Flush Wrestling Opens in the Mid West Territory Rochester, Minnesota, is known for the Mayo Clinic but now, it’s the home of the latest small wrestling federation, namely Royal Flush Wrestling. According to the press release, the owner and booker, John Hart, is promising monthly shows focused on a balanced product, one that emphasizes both in-ring action and entertainment. Rumor has it that Hart has been reaching out to younger, inexperienced wrestlers to round out their roster. If he’s able to find who he needs, we could see RFW’s first show in a few weeks. *** Grace also put together some short, flashy videos, shot with her phone, that she posted on TikTok. Mostly it’s just lights and music, with the two of us standing in the ring at the Civic Center. At the end of each video, she encouraged people to come to our first show and called on young wrestlers to reach out to us for work.

Grace snuck over to my place once her family got back from her family’s Christmas trip. Every year, Grace and her family made the rounds through Minnesota and South Dakota, visiting her extended family. By the time they made it back home, she was so sick of her family that she usually escaped to my house. Not that I was up to much. Mom and Dad were out grocery shopping, leaving me to “hold down the fort,” as Dad put it. When Grace tapped on my bedroom window, I was quick to let her in. “How’s the family?” I asked as she settled on the floor. She shrugged. “Loud and disapproving. Nana wants me to stop ‘touching those boys,’ as she puts it, and find a more ladylike sport to participate in. So same-old, same-old.” I laughed. It was an old argument, one that Nana Kil would never win. I turned back to the TV while Grace fished out her phone and started scrolling through Instagram and TikTok. She kept trying to get me to sign up for those, but I wasn’t gonna bite on that. “Anything good on?” she asked without looking up from her phone. “Just USPW,” I said. That caught her attention. “Alicia been on yet?” “I haven’t really been paying attention.” “How can you say that?” “Once Rich Money drops the title, then we can talk USPW. Until then, forget it.” “But Alicia, John!” I rolled my eyes. She was such a stan, it wasn’t funny. The last time USPW came to Minnesota, we drove an hour an a half to St. Paul so we could camp outside where Grace thought the workers were staying. We camped outside in frigid temperatures deep into the night, hoping to catch a glimpse of her hero. All we got was cold; turned out, the rumor was wrong. I very deliberately switched the channel to an old Dr. Who rerun. Grace glared at me. “Jerk.” We fell into a comfortable silence. Every now and then, Grace would chuckle at something she saw on her phone while I kept flipping through channels. I wish I could convince my folks to get Disney+. I heard that Mandalorian show was something fun. “So how are the college applications going?” Grace asked. I froze, my hand tensing around the remote. “Fine.” She looked up from her phone, her gaze narrowed. “John…” I lay back on my bed and looked up at the ceiling. “I’ve got plenty of time.” “John! You know better than that. Everyone at school is getting their acceptances and you haven’t even started yet.” “I just don’t see the point,” I said. “I still have no idea what I want to do and it seems like such a waste of time if I don’t.” “What do your parents say about that?” I laughed. “Mom keeps after me about it. Dad…well, he says that if I wait too long, he’ll just have me work with him.” Grace grimaced and I laughed. Dad serviced septic tanks. The one time I complained about it, he held out a wad of bills and said that the money didn’t smell any different. Still, it wasn’t something I would want to do, even for a little while. “It doesn’t matter if you don’t know what you want to do,” Grace said. “You could come to the U with me. Maybe you could get a wrestling scholarship.” I laughed, but this time, it was more bitter. “Coach already reached out to them. They’re not interested.” Grace’s jaw dropped open. “Are they crazy?” I shrugged. “Apparently.” Grace fell silent, glaring at me. I wasn’t sure if she was angry at me or the U of M. Probably a little of both. Well, there was one way to defuse that. I flipped back to USPW American Wrestling. No sign of Alicia yet, but that would probably change soon. We watched as James Justice delivered a rambling promo, railing against Rick Law. And then Trent Shaffer rushed in and knocked James out with a steel chair. Jillefski and Greenwood shouted in anger and confusion as Shaffer escaped. Then they went to their next match, Jaime Quine taking on Missy Masterson. Grace perked up a little until she realized that Alicia wasn’t in the match. We watched as the match unfolded. Pretty good, all things considered, although I might have tweaked things just a little. Jaime was getting pushed a little too hard and her eventual victory was telegraphed too early. But the crowd didn’t mind. Then Grace started laughing. “There we go. That’s what you can do.” “Wrestle Missy Masterson? If you insist.” She threw one of my shoes at me, which I barely ducked. “Close. You could go into wrestling. Maybe not with USPW, but I bet you could get a job with MAW or CZCW.” Her eyes brightened. “Hey, if you went out to California, I could come with you!” I laughed. Like her parents would let her do something like that. But Grace wasn’t done. She hopped to her feet and stomped around my room. “I’ll tell you what, Ace Hart! You don’t want a piece of this. So long as I hold the Xtreme title, you’re never going to come close. When we meet at Wave of Fury, you’ll learn that you can’t break a Diamond! Instead, this Diamond will break you!” She kept raving, issuing imaginary challenges to Hugh de Aske, Matt Sparrow, and Frankie Perez. I laughed with her until she paused halfway through a particularly exquisite insult. She wore a familiar expression, one I had seen far too many times. I braced myself. “We don’t need to go to California,” she whispered. “Why don’t we start our own promotion?” I stared at her, not sure I had heard her correctly. She had to be joking, right? She wasn’t. “We could totally do that. You remember Charity? She graduated last year?” Vaguely, but I nodded anyway. “Her dad is the manager at the Mayo Civic Center. She said that they have some old wrestling equipment there from back in the day. I bet if she put in a word with her dad, we could use it and the Center at a discount.” “The Civic Center seats 15,000 people! There’s no way we could afford that.” She kept on going like she didn’t hear me. “And I’ve connected with a bunch of wrestling fans on Snapchat and Instagram. I bet we could find people who would work for us. And…and…and I could get us some sponsors! Sure, we’d need to raise some money to get things rolling, but if we plan things carefully, I bet we could totally pull it off. Think about it! Ace and Grace, Hart and Diamond, taking on professional wrestling!” I knew I should say no. I knew that this was going to end badly somehow. But when Grace gets rolling, it’s hard not to catch her enthusiasm. I started nodding before I realized it. As she wound down her scattered plans, she waited to see what I would say. “Let’s do it.” We spent the rest of the evening cobbling together our initial plans. Between the two of us, we figured we could get $2,500 as an initial seed. While Grace reached out to Charity and her dad, I sat down at my computer and used what limited graphic design skills I had to put together a logo for our new company. Grace left shortly before midnight. I tried to get some sleep, but found I couldn’t. My mind was ricocheting from possibility to possibility too quickly for me to keep up. This would probably turn out to be like jumping off the roof with the umbrella. But so long as Grace and I were in on this together, it’d be a fun ride.

Thanks, everyone. A little while back, I got nostalgic and reread the SWF and MWA diaries and...well, I got the itch to start doing this again. I was worried that no one I knew would still be here. LOL! My release schedule will be a little slower than back in the "old days." I've got kids now that kind of need attention every now and then.

Whenever I got in trouble, it was always Grace’s fault. I know that sounds like a cop out, but it’s the absolute truth. That time I jumped off the roof of the garage with an umbrella? Her idea—although I still think I would have been fine if I had been able to reinforce the ribs. When I picked a fight with Mark Latrell in middle school? Her idea—but he had it coming after spreading those rumors about Colette Weston! Driving to Philly in my mom’s van after we used her cousin’s credit card to buy tickets for USPW Americana? Well, okay, that was my idea, but she was the one who suggested we pay extra to stay out of the nosebleeds! I don’t know how many times her parents or my folks have threatened to split us up. Grace’s parents have toured three or four private schools, including one in Missouri. But they’ve never pulled the trigger. Once the initial anger has died down, our parents will just shake their heads and say something about how we’re “two of a kind” and laugh it off. I’m glad they do. I can’t imagine what my life would be like without Grace. I mean, I’ve known her since kindergarten. This little Korean girl came into class halfway through the year. I thought it’d be a good idea to tease her about her pigtails. When I did at recess, she popped me in the eye. I learned two things that day: number one, I’m an ugly crier. And two, you don’t mess with Grace Kil. We became friends after that. She would drag me to youth group at her dad’s church. I would have her over to watch TCW Total Wrestling. Freshman year, when I tried out for the wrestling team, she did too. And we both made it. And we made varsity sophomore year. Lettered that year too. While we never made state, the two of us dominated our conference around Rochester. We were pretty much inseparable. If you wanted to talk about one of us, you talked about both of us. John “Ace” Hart and Grace “Diamond” Kil. Oh, the nicknames? Yeah, those weren’t our ideas. Grace’s dad always called her his “little diamond.” When we were in fifth grade, Cassidy Blaine overheard and thought it would be funny to call Grace that too. Didn’t bother Grace, though. She pointed out that nothing can break a diamond, and nothing could break her. As for mine…well, I’ll be honest. I don’t remember how I got it. There was a party when I was sixteen with tequila shots. I vaguely recall something about a plunger, the neighbor’s dog, and six tubes of toothpaste. Next thing I knew, people were calling me “Ace.” Ace and Grace. Hart and Diamond. The unstoppable duo of Rochester, Minnesota. So long as I could remember, she was there and I figured that’s the way it always would be. I had absolutely no idea things would turn out the way that it did.