Thank You

Friday, January 31, 2003 - Memphis, Tennessee; condominium of Robert Lancaster

It was a stunning winter morning in Memphis, Tennessee.  And, the Duke of Wessex was still left with nothing to do.  Days had passed since he issued his open challenge for the Smokey Mountain Championship, and none had responded.  Yet still Robert perservered.  He took the liberty to keep up his aggressive training regiment of at least four hours a day, and managed to spend more time with his baby boy, as he had wished.  Stephanie too enjoyed  the extra time she had with her husband, yet she knew Robert hated this type of suspended action.  Lancaster was a man of action, and being left to wait for a challenger to step up drove him mad.  All he had on his plate at the moment was Ripper Longshank's remarks from Championship Wrestling.  And he made sure that those comments would not go unanswered.  Once more he took to recording.

"Good morning ladies and gentlemen.  I hope this lovely Friday morning finds you all well!  I know how it finds me...rather disappointed,  actually."

The Duke's happy mood vanished in favour of an expression of frustration and malaise.

"It's been several days since I issued my challenge, and not one MSWA superstar who is not currently booked at Slam Jam has had the fortitude to step up and accept my generous challenge.  Very disappointing.  However, I am, [as he shifts in his chair] a patient man, and there are still a few more days left for someone to show their determination to be the best in this federation...whether this happens or not, I know not...don't disappoint me, gentlemen..."

Lancaster's smile returns once again.

"But my real point here this morning, is to speak to the remarks a certain remarkable man made towards me just recently.  And the first thing I'd like to do is just say 'thank you' to that man.  And he is, yes, still, your friend and mine, Mr. Longshanks."

Lancaster stopped and corrected himself.

"No wait. Not 'Mr. Longshanks.'  After hearing him call me 'Bobbie' in such an informal, affectionate manner, I feel I ought to call him Rippy ol' boy...does that sound okay? I surely hope so, because I think it really suits him."

"So to you Rippy ol' boy...I thank you.  Above anyone else, in your first set of serious remarks since revealing yourself not to be a Biblically inspired luchadore dressed in a mask, you chose to address me.  And that just speaks volumes Rippy ol' boy.  So my hat goes off to you for showing your compassion and love.  You may hide it, but I know behind that fear-inspiring toothy grin you do oh so well, that must make your dentist oh so proud of the work he does, there's a kinda chap who'd just love to sit down and have a pint with the fellows.  Anytime Rippy ol' boy, just let me know.  And heck, since I'm a money-grubbing leach, I'll even pay for you!"

"But getting back on track...your reading that lovely page from your great fiction 'Rippy's Guide to Intimidation and Mockery' also truly touched me.  You know, it really had been a while since I heard such a diatribe of rubbish, laced with contradictions and hypocrisy.  Not having such talented windbags as Adam X or Chris Stratford around to provide such entertainment, your return helps to fill that vacuum.  So once more, I thank you.  You provide such excellent ammunition against yourself."

"However you are likely still asking yourself, 'What pre tell, contradictions and hypocrisies did I utter forth to His Grace and still Duke of Wessex, Robert Edward James Lancaster II?'  Well, since you asked, I shall tell you.  And worry not, I shall do so, one point at a time.  And thanks to modern technology, I have produced a transcript of your utterance."

The Duke holds the print out up, and scans it quickly.

"Apparently I lack originality.  Well, perhaps.  I have been known to drink the same whiskies and scotches.  But you Rippy ol' boy, you really should think before you speak!  Or rather, remember what you say after making such nasty accusations.  If I in fact stated the same things you have heard countless times - why go and do the same thing to me?  That is, and I quote, '...and think that gives you the right to think that the world revolves around you.'  Oh dear.  How many times have I heard that - the same complaint you made against me.  Perhaps you're getting old, and should consider retirement -"

Lancaster laughed.  "Oh but by Jove, I'm getting up there too!  Perhaps we could retire to Florida and golf together."

"Oh but I'm getting off topic again.  Let's see, where was I."

"Ah yes.  Then you felt you had to talk about power!  And apparently money power is not the type of power you have or seem to care about.  Yet you apparently care about the money you bring into each fed you go into, which obviously helps to pay your salary.  And this money allows you to continue wrestling, and pay for your mortgage, and cars, and groceries...perhaps money is power after all.  Because frankly Rippy ol' boy, it is.  And I could buy your neighbourhood and tear it down, or, I could buy your bank branch, and oh I could buy this entire federation and the CAL too, and sell your contract to Cambodian Championship Wrestling!  Wouldn't that be lovely?"

Lancaster sat silent for a moment, his eyes narrowed in thought, confirming in his mind the glaring hypocrisy made in Ripper's speech.

"But aside from that delicious contradiction, let's move on.  You can come into quote, 'any federation and get what I want.'"

The Duke's eyes lifted up after reading from the print out, and returned to addressing the camera.

"And that's REAL power is it Rippy ol' boy?  What is it exactly you get what you want in any federation?"

Robert thinks for a moment.

"Do you get...title shots? Oh but you seemingly don't care about titles, except for the top prizes, since my championship is a piece of second tier crap according to your wise words.  And you won't settle for anything less than world title shots, 'cause you're RIPPY LONGSHANKS, right, DAMMIT??  And when you come on in you get what you want or ELSE!!"

"But what else might you get?  The right to run to the ring and beat people up and look real MEAN for doing so?  The right to walk in the ring and cut scathing promos? Well logic dictates that ANYONE can do those things...oh my."

The Duke sighs.

"Let's face it Rippy.  Outside the ring, you're meaningless.  Just picture this Rippy old boy.  Thirty years from now, what power will you have?  Will you be a faded manager?  A commentator reliving your glory days like Seth Sanders does currently?  Will you survive paycheque to paycheque participating in 'Superstars of of Wrestling Past' programs or making guest appearances at wrestling conferences?  Oh what power you'll have still Rippy!  As for me, alas, I'll be doomed to sit on various boards of directors for multinational corporations, or even, God forbid, sitting on my thirty million dollar yacht in the Mediterranean."

"Oh but WAIT yes I know you don't care about my yacht or my money, or our jobs thirty years from now.  Yes you're right, it's NOW that matters, and the power you, you mighty Rippy ol' boy has in the ring!"

The Duke's tone alters from one of slight sarcasm to a more serious, subdued tone.

"And yes the ring does matter.  And yes, you are powerful...very powerful indeed.  You're a legend in your own right, and you've destroyed most who have crossed your path.  But this black cat is about to cross yours...and I know you can thrash me very badly.  But I welcome that.  In fact, I want it.  I do intend to make this personal, because you chose to do so, whether you knew it or not.  And I know I have chosen very wisely...very wisely indeed.  And I shall ensure that my power - of intellect, of wrestling, of cunning - is very well known to you."

"Keep it up Rippy, if you choose to respond to any of this.  But do me a favour.  Avoid telling me how badly you'll destroy me, oh how we are all engulfed in 'dark times,' or how talented and how smart you think you are, or contrarily, how arrogant and naive you think I am.  Write me a new page in your fiction, Rippy, and make it relevant and meaningful.  I do wish to read it..."

"I look forward to hearing from you.  A war of words suits me just fine until you feel that taking it to the next level would be better, after you've finished dealing with the nice boys of the Authority.  Or perhaps even before then?  Who knows."

Lancaster lowered his head to think, and then smiled softly at the camera.

"But...truly...utterly...sincerely...thank you again Ripper."  The Duke flashed a shark-toothed grin himself, his eyes focused on the lens.

The scene faded once more to black, signaling the end of Lancaster's address.

"Thank you."