[C-Verse '97] DaVE: No Country for Good Men

[Undertakane]

Disclaimer: This diary is being done as a creative outlet and for fun. I'll mess some grammar up and maybe be a little inconsistent but this is just for experimenting with the characters of C-verse. They're an interesting bunch. Like I said, I'm just doing this for fun and for consistency (or lack thereof). So let's have some fun with this, shall we?

 

"'97: Where 23 Year-Olds Needs Help Running A Promotion."

 

Frankly, I was ready to get out of here and go to California. With hindsight, I should've known that I was probably going to be doing this kind of things until I was in my fifties, just like the washed-up junks at XFW or the wrinkled corpses at NYCW. I just didn't want to be running around Pennsylvania or New York or New Jersey all the time and running a show every week.

 

I was at Pennsylvania Park when I was about to tell the rest of the partners about the DaVE sale to Phil Vibert. It was February of 1997 when his purchase of the company became official and all of this mess was about to become his mess. I wanted no part of it anymore. I was tired running this show at Pennsylvania every week, putting wrestler A against wrestler B and making making wrestler C do a promo on wrestler D. It was ridiculous to do this every single week and not get burnt out. Plus, I was doing the rest of the owners a favor for running this place anyway. The partners, the guys who owned the sh*thole before Phil Vibert took over, made this company to prove a point that they can waste their Wall Street money and pay these wanna-be fighters some money to entertain them and their gold suits.

 

Phil Vibert, he was something else. This young kid, from God knows where, knew everything about the wrestling scene from the back of his head. He would tell me how I should run the show, which wrestlers I should give a push, who to give more airtime, who to hire, etc. Hell, I'm 28 and I barely know how to talk in front of a crowd. But this Vibert kid, he would smooth-talk some hothead big guy like The Wolverine into teaming up with a young kid like James Brandon. I probably would've gotten my ass kicked if I ever tried to tell him to do that. He was crazy charismatic, able to motivate the entire roster of grown men into giving it their all out there each and every single night.

 

I was just the guy making things were in check during the show. I just made sure this ship sailed smoothly.

 

And so, I was watching one of the last shows I wanted to see in Pennsylvania Park. It was a DAVE event, one of the first under Phil Vibert's oversight. One of his first shows. After he bought the company from the rest of us, I sat back on the bleachers and just watched the shows while I waited for my chance to go to California and spend the rest of my 20's on the beach and laying under the sun. I took the cigarette pack out of my pocket. Realizing that this was going to be one the last things I will see in the East Coast, I wanted to soak in the moment and ponder upon the work that I was doing for the last couple of years. Finally, I can rest and get out of here.

 

It was the last match of the night. The main card. Johnny Martin defending his DAVE Extreme Title against "The Traditionalist" Eric Tyler. Fun fact about Johnny Martin, we went to the same university together and met at a house party. He later became my roommate, until he dropped out and wanted to become a wrestler in the Tri-State area. He wasn't a moron per say, but he was more passionate about wrestling than being a Anthropology major. I guess he would've rather been Sam Strong than Indiana Jones.

 

The match was actually really entertaining. There was a spot during the match where Eric Tyler was about to perform this submission hold on the ground and Johnny countered it and turned it into his finishing move "Twist on the Rocks". Then things got really exciting when Eric took out a kendo stick and smacked Johnny Martin on the head. He started to bleed on his forehead and the crowd got riled up. Then the match ended with a bloody Johnny Martin doing a steel-chair dropkick on Eric Tyler and pinning him for the win.

 

Then I questioned myself. Since when did we start using more weapons? How come we got more blood on the floor now compared to the last 3 years we've been running this place? It wasn't the pace I was setting up when I ran this place? What the hell is going on?

 

I didn't want more blood as the last thing I wanted to see of this place before I set to leave for the West Coast. So I went to go see Phil about this. Regrettably one of the worst decisions of my life. I should've seen this coming, I should've known what was about to happen next, I should've just walked away and took the next flight to California -- where there is sunlight and the smell of the ocean breeze.

 

"So is this how you're running this place?" I snarked at the young Phil.

 

"What are you talking about? It's what I envisioned about this place." he told me with a smile.

 

"I didn't give up my share of the company just so you can try to be like those lunatics at XFW. You told me you're gonna put this place on the map and you wanna do that at the cost of your people's lives?"

 

"The crowd's buying it and that's all that matters. Besides, I haven't told you you're exactly not out yet."

 

I looked at him with confusion. I'm not out?

 

"That's right." Phil nodded. "I've been waiting to tell you the news but I guess you just haven't been around since the buyout. I need you to stay and help us run this place.

 

Since I bought this place, I didn't think that I could do this all by myself. Honestly, I'm only 23. I think I just got ahead of myself when I bought this place. Sure, everyone thinks I got a vision and I do! I want this place to be better. I want this place to win the war! I know for a fact that you and your partners wanted out because you didn't want to deal with the stress of the war!! But I wanna win the war and I am ready to deal with the battles."

 

"Go win the war yourself. I told you when I handed you the keys to this place that I was out. I'm done, Phil."

 

"But see, you can't." Phil exclaimed. "According to my new head booker, we need you more than ever. Not just to run the show, but to do the books and deal with the other promotions. Do the marketing and stuff. You can leave the shows to us! And I'm promising that it'll be worth your time!!"

 

I grabbed my cigarette pack from my pocket and took out a cigarette. I could use a smoke right now. At my age, I'm too old to be doing this. I got enough money to last me three decades tops and I could use some fun.

 

"This place is a smoke in the mirror. Speaking of a smoke, you got a lighter?" I told Phil, hoping this would be my last conversation with him.

 

Then, suddenly, I felt a presence behind me. It was intimidating to say the least. Certainly, this guy was taller than me. From the back, I can say that it felt a little scary once he came into the room.

 

"Hey kid, you want a lighter?" he growled.

 

"Rusty, I'd like you to meet John Campbell. He'll be running the shows from now on!"

[Undertakane]

"Serving As A Kid's Left Hand Man"

 

Under the new Phil Vibert leadership, DaVE is about to be ran by three people. Phil Vibert, John Campbell, and me, Rusty Rader.

 

It was apparent that this John Campbell character was going to be the head booker. He's gonna run the show however he sees it fit. Phil told me about this guy and how he got fired from the greatest gig as a pro wrestler. To simply put it, he worked at Supreme Wrestling Federation as the top "heel" of the company. Basically, he was the bad guy that everyone loved to hate. And Phil gave me tapes to watch this guy give a promo and he was intense. You can feel him getting into your skin. He sounded stoic but you know that when he speaks, the tension in the room turns up. At SWF, he was known as "Nemesis". At one of our initial meetings, he decided that he's keeping the name since his last employer never really put a copyright on that name.

 

He was also has a great mind for the wrestling business, something that him and Phil share. It made sense that he was going to be the head booker. He was going to be Phil's right hand man and his mentor to this business. Especially with the age difference, Nemesis knew a lot and he shared this same vision of how wrestling is going to be in the next couple of years.

 

Then there's me. Rusty Rader. My first name is Richard, people called me 'Rusty' because that's what father called me when I was a child. It was better than being called "Dick" by a million miles. According to Phil, him and John needed one more guy to run this promotion so they can focus on the creative and build their what their vision of this place is. So my job is to promote their events all over the Tri-State area, help around with some of the booking, talk to the guys that we would hire for the promotion, talk to other promotions, and run the finances. With my background in finance, I can do these things easy. But it was just that I never wanted to work in my life again and just vacation in California. I was the left hand man, running the other side of this place.

 

"Couldn't you just find someone else to do this for you? Surely I'm probably overqualified for this job, Phil." I told him.

 

"Rusty, you're the perfect fit for this. You've been doing all these things for the company since you got here and half the guys actually like you. With you at my side, we can use you to win the war and make this place into the future of wrestling."

 

"I just want to go to California. You heard that I'm suppose to retire and live a good life at the West Coast? That's why I sold you this dump in the first place." I kept telling him but he just won't listen.

 

John was also in the room as this conversation happened. He seemed unconcerned about my troubles. Phil has told me that he's more of a stoic than anything. When he speaks, he sounds like Bruce Willis but a couple of octaves lower. He would probably make a great villain at a Die Hard movie.

 

"Cigarette?" he offered.

 

"Nah, I'm too pissed at you two dragging me into this nonsense."

 

"Fine, but you need to be on the same page as us." he snarled. He continued speaking.

 

"Have you heard the reason why I came here? It's simple science. I bleed, that d*ck Eisen fires me for it. That's one reason. One of the main reason is to show to him that my way is better than his way. His backwards-thinking of what this sport should be is nonsense. He'll tell you he can put Christian Faith against a Wrestlebot-9000 in a normal match and the crowd will eat it. Sooner or later, people are gonna want more."

 

"Well what are you gonna do about it?" I asked him.

 

"You wanna go to California, kid?"

 

"Yeah, but you two nutjobs took that away from me and made me do your dirty work." I told him. Who wouldn't be happy about not vacationing?

 

"Let's make you work then. We're going to California tonight." he said.

 

Out of excitement, I smiled. But for what cost? "What are we doing at California?"

 

Up Next....What Happens at California Pisses off A Wrestling Legend