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Lycravillain mulled over his battle plan. When he finished with this newbie, Loserboy would be begging him for the privilege of being worked over. This could be the all time best scam he ever pulled off, and he knew exactly how it was going to come down. That Wednesday, exactly at 6:51, Lycravillain’s door bell rang. He deliberately waited for the third ring. He didn't want to seem anxious. While waiting, a single line of childhood poetry flashed through his mind: "Step into my parlor said the spider to the fly," and he softly chuckled in a sinister, mirthless way. When he finally opened the door, he looked down at Loserboy and announced gruffly: - "Beat it, buddy. I'm not in the market for whatever yer selling". Loserboy was at a loss for a moment, but he hastily collected himself enough to blurt out, - "No! No! I'm here about the wrestling lessons." - “Oh yea, yeah. Now I remember, come on in." |
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Lycravillain grilled him about why he wanted to wrestle, if he had any experience, and what type of wrestling Loserboy was into. His eyes lit up when he found out Loserboy had a passion for submission wrestling, Mexican Luchadores style. - "Buddy you got a death wish or what? That’s the most brutal sport there is. Rumor has it they use it as a substitute for the ancient human sacrifices that they gave up. The blood shed is about the same in both. Ha. Ha. Ha. Come on, let me talk ya outta this before ya get hurt." Loserboy defiantly shook his head: - “No! Please! This is what I want, I just don't know if I can come up with your fee." |
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- “Hmmm…" mussed Lycravillain. "There might be a way, but, naugh! You probably wouldn't be interested -- Even if by some slim chance you could make the grade!" Loserboy was beside himself. All he could see was his chance of a life time slipping away. In his agitated state he lost it and blurted out: - "Please! Please! At least, give me a chance. I'll do anything! Please let me try." Lycravillain needed all his self control to keep from laughing. He thought in his mind: "Loserboy hasn't been here five minutes, and I've already got him begging me for the beating of his life. Well, I guess it's time to set the hook." The Villain stood there motionless with his most pensive expression while Loserboy’s pleading eyes begged silently. - "I'm looking for a workout partner to practice on, someone who can help me perfect my wrestling technique. Don't need to know anything, I'll be the one doing, all the work; but this is a rough sport, you gotta understand, it involves pain. I gotta be able to trust the dude. I don't want someone whose gona blab all my secret moves". Loserboy couldn't contain himself. - "Me! Me! I can do it! I know I can. Try me, you'll see! I can take anything you dish out, and I promise no one will ever get anything out of me. Not even if they beat me to a pulp". Lycravillain placed his hand on Loserboy's shoulder, - "Well buddy you sure have heart. Let's see if you got the hair to go with it. If you can handle the job, I'll trade you for the lesson. But that’s a big IF". |
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Loserboy was directed to the spare room that had been converted into a workout area, complete with mats on the floor. There he was to change into his wrestling trunks. As he entered the room, Lycravillain's voice followed him.
- "Dude, check the top shelf of the closet, for the masks. Pick out one for yourself, and bring out one for me. We might as well do this up right, eh buddy?" Loserboy was so ecstatic just handling the masks that he found himself trembling. This was too good to be true. He had to be dreaming, any moment he would wake up and this would all disappear. It was just too, too, too good to be true. Dressed in his speedos, he carried the two masks out to Lycravillain. |
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- "Here slip yours on and I'll lace up the back for you. Then you can do mine". Loserboy regaled in the feel of the masks material against his skin. Somehow he felt strangely different wearing the mask. He couldn't explain it, but something was very different. For a fleeting moment he thought of the folk lore and myths that have surrounded ritual masks since the dawn of time. He shrugged it off as the excitement of the moment, but the feeling nagged at the outer reaches of his consciousness. |
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