Megalomania's Bitch

Wednesday, January 15, 2003 - Berlin, Germany

The smoke was thick - not all of it from cigarette smoke - the smell of alcohol heavy in the air, the music, loud - very loud.

Ugh, German techno music.  If one could even call it music.  The club was packed to over-capacity nearly, unusual perhaps considering it was a weeknight.  The ages, ranging from perhaps 16 to 45, intermingled happily with each other, drinking, dancing,  forgetting the cold and worries of the outside world.  The music consumed them.  God knows how many laws were being broken at that moment.  But regardless.  He was there to find that one man.

Robert Lancaster II stood at the entrance of the club, wearing a leather jacket, black nylon/polyster dress pants, a white Oxford shirt, and polished black leather shoes, surveying the area.  He was told by the man himself that he could find him there at around 11pm.

The Duke checked his stainless steel Rolex: 11:30...he should be here.

Lancaster walked down the stairs and over to the bar.  The surface was made of glass and was illuminated underneath it, casting a gentle neon glow around the area.  Behind the bar were many various liquors, many German ones, some more familiar than others to the Duke.  Several great German beers were available on tap, but Robert craved something more familiar.  He squeezed his way in, smiling at those around him.  After a moment or two, he attracted the attention of the bartender; a very intimidating sight indeed.  Standing what must be around 6'6" at least, a clean shaven head, and blue eyes, he looked down at the Duke, who merely smiled.  Speaking in flawless German, the Duke made his order:

"Ich möchte ein Heineken bitte bestellen."

The bartender, without a flinch on his expression, walked off slowly to fill a pint glass of Heineken.  Lancaster looked around again briefly, trying to catch a glimpse of the dark sunglasses he knew the man often wore, even indoors.  No luck.  The bartender returned with the perfectly poured Heineken.  Lancaster reached for his wallet and...

"Nein," called a voice,  as he felt a hand on his shoulder.  Robert closed his eyes.  Oh yes.  It was.

Helius Andrös.  Ten Euro note in hand, which he threw in front of the bartender.  Holding his beer, the Duke turned around to face his eccentric peer.

"Herr Andrös."

"Herr Lancaster, I see I hope you have come to Deutschland to finally concede the German genius of my plans for your condominium for I heard you decorated yet did not consult me finally I hope this it is not news but rather just rubbish falseness mein herr."

The Duke shifted his eyes about, hoping to find the man, and get out of talking to the German windbag.

"Well my dear Helius..."

"Oh you have not mentioned however that my painting oh how does one say in English, if it was much loved by that fun boy you said you wanted to make fun of oh yes I actually used wine real, yes real wine on the painting yes?"

"Actually yes..."

"Oh do please meet my friend mein herr come sit drink, beer be talk, oh yes be merry that is the saying is it not yes?"

Andrös grabbed the Duke by the arm, almost dragging him along the crowded dance floor, his beer almost spilling over.  Oh what he'd give to be able to level that bastard.  As the dancers parted the path of the two, Lancaster's eyes widened.  The man he sought was sitting right before him.  Wearing his trademark shades, his gold chains still dangling around his neck.

Jeremy Fabulous.

The Duke shoved Andrös off his arm, before placing his beer down on the table.  Seeing Fabulous with two blonde haired, busty, and obviously, young looking women, one on each of his arms, Lancaster knew his old friend had not changed since retiring from professional wrestling to become a full-time model.

He was one of Doug Daniels' oldest compatriots.

Fabulous turned his attention from his two German "companions" to look up at Andrös - apparently another of Mr. Fabulous' acquaintances, and then, to Lancaster, who had called him a few times since Monday to find out just where the hell he was.  Fabulous was in Berlin modeling some haute couture line out of Paris.  Having not seen his friend in ages, Fabulous stood up and hugged Lancaster warmly.

Robert had introduced Fabulous to the world of professional wrestling back in the CWF, and in the WWA...where he would team with the then "Dashing" Doug Daniels as part of the mediocrely successful "Model's Inc."

"Rob...how the hell are ya...sit down, please."

Lancaster smiled.  "Not too bad...I see you've been...keeping busy...still," nodding towards the two ladies who flanked his friend.

Fabulous couldn't help but smirk.  "Always am Rob, always am."

"Ever thought of settling down?" asked the Duke - although he knew the answer.  He took a long sip on his Heineken.

"Oh..." pondered Fabulous. "I would, but it really puts a dampen on one's sex life though."

"Sex oh it is so fun!" noted Andrös.  Lancaster took another long swig after hearing that bit of brilliance.

"And just how and where did you come to know Herr Andrös, Jeremy," inquired Robert, who looked peculiarly at Helius.

"Oh at a fashion show here in Berlin a few months ago.  He's decorated my new apartments here and in New York City.  He's got some awesome talent."

Berlin and New York?  Fabulous was doing very well from his days of a modest house in San Diego.  Calvin Klein obviously paid his models very well.

"Oh he is awesome alright...but..."

"Yes I am awesome I am so awesome so very awesome I was voted awesomest man in Dusseldorf last year HAHAHA I am more awesome than a BWM HAHAHA."

Helius laughed hysterically at his own joke, spilling his Zima, while Fabulous nearly spewed his Coors Light from his mouth. His two German "friends" laughed in a high pitched shrill which sounded like nails over a blackboard.  Lancaster began second-guessing his decision to once again jump the Concorde in New York to travel to London,  then Berlin, to get answers.

Some sort of odd tune then began to emanate from Helius' cell phone.  He answered it, after calming down. "Ya.  Ah Marissa!  Yes you want sex now? I will be there kiss bye."  He hung up and finished the last of his Zima.

"Mein Herrs duty waits and I shall be like Luftwaffe and penetrate her fast and hard like lightning! What is it you say Beck's Wishes and Sauerkraut Fantasies? Well yes bye!"  Andrös' spiked, white dyed hair was obvious as he walked through the still crowded dance floor.  The Duke shook his head, glad that Andrös had decided to make it a brief encounter of the odd kind.

"Okay Rob..." Fabulous' tone took a change.  "Now that Helius is gone...tell me just why you came all the hell the way from Memphis to talk to me.  This must be big."

"Business Jeremy...business."

Fabulous knew what that meant.  He whispered to his girls, apparently telling them to beat it, and they did just that.

"Now that we have total privacy...just what kind of business Rob."

"To be blunt..." Lancaster frowned, sighing.  "It's Doug."

"Daniels?" Jeremy quickly asked, to which he got a nod in reply.  "HA," exclaimed Fabulous, nearly slamming his Coors down onto the table.  "I knew it.  I read that little thing about your upcoming match on the MSWA website.  'The Dominion,' is that what he calls himself now?"

"Yes."

"Megalomania's bitch."

"Pardon?"

Jeremy sarcastically laughed.  "Megalomania's bitch.  He's changed so much since the days we used to chill.  He's got the world around his fucking neck as far as he's concerned.  It's his...if you will...dominion?"

"That nickname of his...his new chosen alias to garb himself in...it struck me.  The Dominion...sort of...he is the world...he is all there is...l'etat c'est moi as it were...shades of Leviathan. perhaps.  I should sue the bastard for copyright infringement," joked the Duke.

"Megalomania's bitch indeed...but...just when was the last time you two talked."  Lancaster wanted to know as much as he could.  A passing waitress wearing a very high cut skirt walked by, taking Helius' empty Zima bottle.  The Duke pointed to his Heineken which was nearing empty, and signaled the waitress for two more.

Fabulous leaned backed in his chair.  "A while ago to be honest...but even then things weren't well.  He was very sketchy on details...I think something to do with that bitch Tracy Lynn Brisbois...he was moping very much, complaining about his career...a man like him can be very dangerous if he gets around the wrong people."

"I know...he can portray an image of strength and vitality but truly he is vulnerable and weak.  The lamentable pathetic bastard.  Hope he gets his head out of his ass sooner than later."

Jeremy shook his head.  "Not gonna happen...it's going to take a helluva lot to turn his mind around again.  I've seen his matches.  He brutalized Easton completely, as you well know.  He won't hold back from doing the same thing to you...be on guard my friend."

The waitress arrived back with their Heinekens, which were taken gratefully by both Fabulous and Lancaster.  They both took a drink.

"Believe me I shall.  If he indeed did ask for this match...he's going to try and prove himself to me...for what I reason I have no idea really.  Perhaps to test himself before going for the World Title...he figures he can't beat me, what are his odds of beating Mace?  I really don't know what to think..."

Fabulous gave his friend a smile, not knowing what to say.  Lancaster stared into the golden fire of his ale.  He raised his head up.

"But I do know what I'm going to do...I'm going to come prepared to that ring, and throw any semblance of friendship out the fucking window...if he pulls any shit, I'm going to ensure that he does not lead a...good life."

Fabulous raised his glass in the air to his friend.  "May you bid him champagne wishes...and caviar dreams...and I'm sure you'll prove to him..."  Lancaster's facial expression broke out into a huge grin, knowing what was coming, "and the WHOLE MSWA...why you are...ABSOLUTELY FABULOUS."