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  "Marc, I understand how you feel, but Murphy is the number one contender," Art replied.

  "Don't get me wrong, Marc began. Murphy deserves the shot. I hope he beats Warren and wins the title. What I'm trying to say is that I should be wrestling Warren. Instead of wrestling for the World Heavyweight Championship, I'm fighting for my career here in Brighton. Why is that Art?"

  "I don't know, Marc. You've had your hands full with Johnny Handsome and Predator lately.

  "Exactly," Marc said. While Murphy's been fighting the top contenders from around the world, I've been wasting my time with Johnny Handsome. If it wasn't predator, it's been some other bum that he's brought around here. None of those bums have ever beat me. Johnny Handsome beat me. I beat myself." Marc's Scottish accent shined through his dialect as he became more intense. "I'm The Magnificent One, damn it!"

  "Careful, Marc," Art warned. "Watch your language."

  Marc ignored Art and continued. "I came to Brighton to become the best wrestler that this place has ever seen. For five years, I've beaten everyone that's been put in front of me. Somewhere along the line, I let Johnny Handsome get under my skin. I forgot why I was in the business. I let that snake psyche me out. I lost the Central states Championship, let the fans down, and let myself down."

  "Marc, you haven't let anyone down," Art consoled.

  "That's all changing right now!" Marc exclaimed. The Magnificent One is back! There's no damn way that I'm gonna let Predator, Johnny Handsome, or anyone else run me out of town!"

  "Easy," Art warned again.

  "I'm taking my championship back Wednesday night. Predator can go back to whatever hole he crawled out of. I'm tired of wasting my time with Predator and any other of Handsome's thugs. Whether it be Warren or Murphy, I'll be wrestling for the World Heavyweight Championship the next time it's defended in Brighton." The studio crowd erupted into cheers at Marc's proclamation.

  "I'm taking back what belongs to me Wednesday night," he continued. Johnny Handsome, if you stick your nose in just for one second, I'll break your jaw." Marc paused for a moment and looked directly into the camera. "I will break your jaw. I promise. You think Magnificent Marc sounds like a magician? I think shutting your mouth once and for all would be a pretty good magic trick. Think about that when you're sucking soup through a straw. I ain't going anywhere. There ain't a man alive that's gonna run me out of Brighton. I'm bringing the Central States title back to the fans. If I have to take Murphy out to do it, I'll be bringing the World Heavyweight Championship back soon enough. I guarantee it!"

  "Wednesday night at the Brighton City Arena," Art reminded the fans as the camera faded out.

  Marc shook Art's hand off camera and walked back to the rehearsal room. He usually stuck around to watch the rest of the show, but was too hyped to hang around. He had worked himself up too much in the interview to set still. He was half pissed at himself for letting Handsome get to him all this time, while the other half of him was filled with motivation and excitement about the future.

  "Good job out there," Hensley said from his open office.

  "Thanks," Marc replied as he caught a glimpse of Murphy at Hensley's desk. He locked eyes with Murphy for a few seconds before Murphy smirked and looked away.

  "I was glad to see The Magnificent One back," Hensley said. "It's been a while."

  "It's good to be back," said Marc.

  Chapter Five

  Marc inserted the Kiss Alive tape into the eight-track player of his '78 Eldorado and thought about what he had said in the interview. He had spoken from his gut. He had entered the Brighton area with dreams of making it big after stints in Florida, Chicago, and Detroit upon arriving in the United States. Breaking into the business when he was only sixteen, Marc worked the circuits in Aberdeen and Tayside regions of Scotland honing his craft. By the time he entered All Star Wrestling in Liverpool, he was a veteran at the mere age of nineteen.

  It was in All Star Wrestling that he earned the nickname The Magnificent Marc. Show stealing matches with Rico and Dynamo earned him the respect from his peers. It was after a victory in the 10th round against Dynamo that the announcer uttered, "Fleming's performance was simply magnificent!" From that point forward, he was known as The Magnificent Marc, or The Magnificent One, Marc Fleming. He would further gain the respect of his peers and fans from gruesome battles against Grizzly Calhoun. It was against Calhoun that he learned to develop and manage his killer instinct. He had to in order to survive against the maniac.

  By the time Marc immigrated to America, he had five years of experience under his belt. He enjoyed his time in the UK, but there was no glory in it for him. He wanted to set the world on fire, and he wanted to make lots of money doing it.

  His first few years in America were unspectacular. He was a journeyman traveling from territory to territory looking for a break. It seemed like every territory that he went to that the promoters had their own favorites who they placed in the main events. To make matters worse, it seemed like every promoter had a son, brother, or some family member who got all the title shots. Marc was mostly in mid-card matches, and he had to almost beg to get those spots. It seemed like he'd never catch a break. One night in a Florida dressing room at a house show, he met Matt Murphy. Murphy had been booked for a few shows in Tampa, but his home territory was Brighton. "Hensley's always looking for new talent," Murphy told him. Marc gave Murphy his number and was on his way to Brighton a few days later.

  Brighton fans took a liking to Marc almost immediately. They had never seen such a flashy competitor with the wrestling ability and fiery spark that he had. Unlike the UK where wrestling was focused more on the art of technical wrestling, the fans in Brighton craved a spectacle. They wanted someone who could fight like a bar room brawler and talk like Mohammed Ali. If it was a spectacle they wanted, he would give them one. He didn't care if he had to shake his fanny every time he wrestled or not. He would do whatever it took to get to the top.

  It wasn't long before he discovered Murphy's true intentions of landing him a spot in Brighton. He built Marc up to Hensley as a top British technician and champion that would land him a shot at the world Heavyweight Championship if he beat him. Marc thought his first match against Murphy would be a friendly, scientific match. Within the first 10 minutes of the match, he realized that Murphy had no intention of wrestling a "friendly" match. With flashbacks of his battles against Calhoun, Marc fought Murphy tooth and nail. Murphy had expected to brawl to a win over the Scotsman by taking him out of his element, thus earning himself a title shot. He would soon find out that he was grossly mistaken.

  Marc and Murphy beat the hell out of each other for almost two years at arenas across Georgia and Tennessee. Because of his tenacity and perceived underdog stature, Marc became the hero to Murphy's villain in the eyes of the fans. Their matches sold out everywhere that they fought. The pair exchanged the Central States Championship numerous times during their feud. Their one Loser Leaves Town match ended in a draw when neither of them could rise to their feet after throwing everything at each other but the kitchen sink.

  After nearly two years of battling each other, neither could declare themselves the decisive winner. When one of Johnny Handsome's thugs, Lance Steel, was scheduled to face Nick Warren for the title, both Murphy and Marc realized that they had lost sight of their goal. They had spent so much time tearing each other apart that they lost sight of the World heavyweight Championship. They decided to team up to rid Brighton of Johnny Handsome and ensure that future championship matches went to one of them. Although they both agreed that they would have to battle again, the put their differences aside to battle Handsome. "For the better good," Murphy and Marc agreed.

  The pair were a formidable team for a few months. However, they simply didn't like each other. Marc never forgot how Murphy tricked him into coming to Brighton. Murphy continued to see Marc as a threat to his kingdom. Driving separate cars to the arenas, they often didn't speak to each other until it was bell time. Mu
rphy abandoned ship first, citing that he needed to re-focus on the World Heavyweight Championship. Both remained popular fan favorites. While Murphy battled top challengers from around the world, Marc continued his war with Johnny Handsome.

  Three years later, Marc was still battling Johnny Handsome's thugs. Murphy had battled Nick Warren many times and came very close to winning the title. Marc battled a different thug almost every week. Handsome was worse than a snake. He was like a cock roach. No matter what you did to him, he simply wouldn't go away.

  While he toiled in mid-card matches, new stars entered the area. To Marc, his start was fading. He felt like he was being taken for granted. He had sold out shows for two years, but now he was just another act just like he was in Florida. There were times that he felt like dropping out of the spotlight altogether. He could get a job at a textile plant making a decent living. At least that way he'd be home with his wife and son more. He lamented in self-pity at times, but no more. He meant everything he said in the interview. He belonged in the World Heavyweight Title picture. His days as a journeyman were long behind him. He was The Magnificent One. No matter what he had to do, he was going to take it all back.

  Chapter Six

  Marc lived in Saratoga, a small, country town secluded from the bigger cities. Marc preferred the secluded area as opposed to the more populated cities. He was a true loner. His nearest neighbors were a mile away. The drive from the studio to his house usually takes an hour and a half, but it took Marc only an hour to drive home that day. He was in a hurry more than usual. He wanted to spend time with his son, Kyle, before leaving for his match in Augusta that night.

  For all of his unhappiness with events in Brighton Championship Wrestling, he had to admit that he reaped many benefits from the company. He earned a small fortune with his matches against Murphy the years that they fought. He had been able to afford a beautiful, four bedroom ranch with over 100 acres. On the massive acreage, he built a motocross track on the north end for him and Kyle and a horse stable for his wife, Alexis. There was nothing more in life that he enjoyed than racing his Kawasaki alongside his son. The only thing close might be spending an afternoon with Alexis riding horses, picnicking by the pond, and enjoying the serenity of nature. He put his frustrations behind him as he drove up the gravel, quarter-mile drive to his ranch.

  As he pulled into the carport, Kyle ran to meet him. Kyle, 9, was already dressed in his motocross gear. Stocky for his age, he could easily pass for a teenager until his youthful excitement would give him away. “Are you ready to ride, Dad?” asked the sandy haired, freckle faced boy.

  “You better believe it,” Marc answered. “Let me go talk to your mom and then I’ll show you some new stunts.”

  “Don’t take too long,” Kyle pleaded.

  “I’ll just be a few minutes. Go ahead and get some practice laps in while I’m getting ready.”

  Marc and Alexis had met in Chicago when he was wrestling there. They had met at the television studio that produced the weekly wrestling program. Alexis, an amateur actress and model, was there filming a commercial for a local automobile dealership. Stunningly beautiful, Alexis’s career was promising. Naturally brunette with a bronzed complexion, she had multiple offers from several advertising agencies in the city. It also helped that she was a perfect 36-24-26 at 5’8”. After catching a glimpse of her in the elevator, Marc worked up the nerve to ask her out after chasing her down Lakeshore Drive. Impressed with his determination and enamored by his charm, she agreed to go with him for some Pizza. What started as a simple pizza date turned in to a whirlwind romance. They were married three months later. Nine months later, Kyle was brought into the world. Although she sometimes wondered what would have become of her acting and modeling career, she was perfectly happy with her life with Marc and Kyle. She just wished Marc wasn’t on the road so much.

  “Honey, I’m home,” Marc teased in his best Ricky Ricardo impersonation as he walked in the door.

  Alexis met him in the living room. “For how long this time?” she joked as she wrapped her arms around him.

  “Not long enough,” he answered before embracing her. Even though they had been married for ten years, Marc was just as much in awe of her beauty as he was the first time he had met her. He could stare into her beautiful, green eyes forever. “Not long enough,” he said again.

  “Kyle’s been looking forward to racing with you all morning. I think he put his suit on as soon as he woke up,” Alexis said.

  “Yeah, I promised him that we’d race today. He’s waiting for me now.”

  “Where are you wrestling tonight?” she asked.

  “We’re wrestling in Augusta tonight,” he answered.

  “So, you’ll be home at a decent hour tonight then?”

  Marc smiled. “Yes, dear. I’ll be home before midnight. I promise.”

  “You better be. Otherwise, you’ll miss out on the surprise.”

  “Surprise?”

  “I’ll be waiting up. You wouldn’t want to keep a filly like me waiting too long would you?”

  Marc’s grin stretched across his entire face. “No Ma’am! I certainly do not, Marc said brushing back her hair. “Hell, I might hit the referee or something to get disqualified so I can get home faster,” he joked. “Better yet, I can call Hensley and tell him something came up.”

  “Easy, stud. Don’t get too carried away just yet. Kyle’s still waiting for you.”

  “Yeah, I guess I’d better get ready. I just hope my filly is ready for the Kentucky Derby when I get home tonight.”

  “We’ll see,” Alexis teased. “By the way, some guy named Bobby Kent called.”

  Bobby Kent was the promoter in the Chattanooga territory. Marc had worked for him briefly when he first came to the states. Marc hated his time there. Kent was an unapproachable, gruff businessman well known for his low payoffs despite hot cards that used to sell out arenas all over Eastern Tennessee. The territory had gotten so hot that it had once expanded to Georgia and began promoting in the same towns that Hensley runs. A bitter rivalry began between the two promotions with Kent nearly putting Hensley out of business until Marc’s feud with Murphy started packing houses.

  It was the two year war between Murphy and Marc that drove attendance at Hensley’s shows through the roof, while Kent could barely give away tickets to his shows. By the time the dust had settled, Kent had withdrawn from Georgia with what was left of his talent base. Many of the boys jumped ship to Hensley when they heard about the payoffs Hensley was handing out to the wrestlers on his cards. That’s not to say that Hensley was throwing money around. His promotion was just experiencing immense popularity, and he was paying everyone fairly for their contribution.

  Kent was the opposite of Hensley. When he drew a big house, he kept most of the gate for himself, while claiming to the boys that he could barely cover expenses. Marc had seen a lot of the boys sleep in their cars when working Chattanooga, while Kent drove around town in a Mercedes, smoked Cuban cigars, and binge gambled in illegal poker tournaments in downtown nightclubs. Kent didn’t even know who Marc was when he wrestled on the undercard there. Now, Kent’s calling him for some reason. Marc had worked too hard to build his reputation to ever go back to that crooked promotion, especially now that the territory was basically dead.

  “Kent? What the hell did he want?”

  “He said he wanted to bring you into Chattanooga,” she answered. “He said he give you a main event spot and make sure you were taken care of.”

  “Yeah, whatever,” Marc said trying to end the conversation. Marc knew that Kent’s promises would sound great to Alexis. Chattanooga wouldn’t be that much farther of a drive than Brighton was. Even though he’d be working different towns than he is now, his commute would be essentially the same. Kent could make it sound good to Alexis by telling her that he’d make sure he was taken care of. She’d do anything to have Marc home more. He knew Kent, though. Kent’s territory was falling apart. He’d use Marc to spark atte
ndance, work him in every town, and then claim that he couldn’t afford to pay him what they agreed upon.

  “He said that you could start now,” said Alexis.

  “Now?”

  “He said that you could skip the match with Predator Wednesday, and he’d have you booked on his cards by Monday night.”

  “Yeah, I bet he would,” scoffed Marc. Now Marc understood why Kent called. Kent would love to have marc skip out on his big match. He didn’t want to help Marc. He just wanted to stick it to Hensley. Marc knew that would be the worst possible move that he could make. Missing dates and no-showing were taboo in the wrestling business. Once a wrestler earned the reputation of unreliable or untrustworthy, word would spread like wildfire amongst the promoters. He’d seen many guys that couldn’t get booked anywhere because of bad decisions they’d made.

  “I wrote his number down. Do you want to call him back?” Alexis asked.

  “Hell no!” Marc quickly answered.

  Chapter Seven

  He didn't usually like hanging out with the boys after his matches, but Marc enjoyed being around Randy Cooper and Rocky Dawson. Both Cooper and Dawson had only been in the business a few years and had struggled individually as single competitors. It wasn't until they were paired as a team that they seemed to find their niche. Hensley didn't have a spot for either on the card in Brighton and had asked them if they wanted to work together to fill an open spot against the Mercenaries. Both reluctantly agreed in order to maintain some sort of relevancy in the area. They had never spoken to each other before and weren't expecting much. Having never teamed before, they just wanted to earn a few dollars towards their paycheck and escape the match without any injuries. Whether it was fate, luck, or happenstance, magic happened that night.