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ITFL Season 2 Preview: Team Reaper


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INTERNATIONAL TEAM FIGHTING LEAGUE

SEASON 2 PREVIEW:

 

TEAM REAPER

 

*via cellphone...

 

Big Boss: He seriously fuckin' said that!?..."...*laughs*..."is he the new Mr.T or what!? HAHAHA!"

 

Reporter: "I know, man...it was hilarious but I kept my cool. The guy can squash me into something that resembles a wet grape, they'd have to puttyknife me off that beach!"

 

Big Boss: "Sheeeeit...good call. Better safe than sorry. So listen...We gotta bag the Tokyo trip for now, got some shit comin' up and I won't be around."

 

Reporter: "Seriously? C'mon, man..."

 

Big Boss: "For reals, man. It's gotta be done. It's cool, man...just come out a bit later...like next week or somethin'..."

 

Reporter: "Cool, man...I'll head back to the mainland then. I think Kelley is gonna want to meet out in Sydney anyways..."

 

Big Boss: "What about Steel Penn?"

 

Reporter: "He's busy too...ay, I can always use an excuse to get back out to Hilo, ya know what I mean?"

 

Big Boss: "Shit yeah, dude...Alright, I gotta split, later..."...*click*...

*After I my talk with Chuck on the way to the airport, I got a text from Johnny Lee Paris. I knew eventually it had to come to this and honestly, I was kind of dreading it. I remember what happened the last time I was at his place and let's just say it was not a highlight of my life. It may just be one of the weirdest moments I have ever had...but I had a job to do and he assured me that Ruphus Duphus would be in town as well, so I could 'two bird, one stone' my way through Chicago.

There was one thing that kind of bothered me though...something in his tone when he told me he had a "great surprise" and that it was "something I would like"...anytime JLP gets that tone, I get a bit worried.

I slept the entire way back to San Francisco and then quickly ran to my connecting flight. The layover in Denver wasn't long enough to do anything so I just slept there as well, since I didn't have to change planes. While in flight, I got confirmation from Duphus that he would be available. Thank hell...

 

I also talked to JBomb while in flight and he promised he'd have one of his old fighters pick me up at the airport. I hate renting cars and J always sets me up. I was assuming one of the Osiris brothers would be here soon. After I grabbed my bags from the baggage claim, I walked outside and stood at the curb. I watched shuttle after shuttle come and go, taxi after taxi...turning them all down, waiting for my ride. Finally, after about 20 minutes, I heard a honk and saw a familiar face...Ray Osiris.*

 

http://www.tuningsuv.com/albums/userpics/10001/Lincoln_Navigator_Custom_25422.jpg

 

*Osiris was one of the first KT fighters in the world. He copped a pretty nasty knee injury in his second fight though and his career was over, just like that. He put all his energy into rehabilitating his leg and coaching his younger brother, Eric, who JBomb also signed. Eric became a great wrestler. Most of that due to Ray's displeasure with the one sided nature of kickboxing. So Ray employed some of the best wrestling coaches money could buy and brought them to Chicago. If he couldn't get them to come to Chicago, he'd send Eric to them. Ray still coaches to this day...*

 

Reporter: "Nice ride! How ya been Ray?"

 

Osiris:...*shaking hands*..."Thanks. I'm doin' alright, blood. What aboutchyu?"

 

Reporter: "Well, other than this JLP thing, I'm doin' great. Let's hope this goes smoothly huh?"

 

Osiris: "Ay, blood...if anything crazy go down, we gotcha!"...*opens the back door to the Navigator revealing 3 heavily armed, black men, clad in black leather and very serious looks*..."We don't fuck aroun' 'roun here."

 

Reporter: "Well let's hope this is all unneeded, right? So how's Eric been?"...*throws bags in the back and walks around front*...

 

Osiris: "Dropped 6 of his last 7, ain't been fightin' much lately though..."...*starts the SUV*...

 

Reporter: "Huh...wonder why? So you're still coachin' right?"

 

Osiris: "Yeah..."

 

Reporter: "You ever think about coaching over at JBomb's new gym?"

 

Osiris: "In Vegas? Sheeeeeit...hell naw. Too mu'fuckin' hot out there, blood."...*cranks up the stereo*...

 

*We drive for about a half hour, now words, only music...when we finally hit the familiar looking industrial area known as "Back of the Yards". Instantly, I get creeped out. I knew that soon, I would be in the depths of the ether dungeon that Johnny Lee Paris calls home. As we rounded the corner, Osiris turned down the stereo and slowed to a crawl.*

 

Osiris: "This it?"...*begins to park on the side of the road*...

 

Reporter:...*gulps*..."Yep...I'll be back a bit later."

 

Osiris: "Cool...we here, blood."

 

Reporter: "Thanks..."

 

*As I walked up to the compound, I noticed that the dirty brick wall, topped with razorwire and security cameras, was still there even though the graffiti was a bit different. The gates began to open automatically, as they did before, and there stood Paris...same paramilitary clothing, still obese but with one glaring difference...he had a different ether-wielding crackwhore on his side, this one was a lot better looking, in a 'Mallory Knox-on-crank' type of way.

It was apparent that the ether was getting to Paris. Even though his set up was the same, we walked by the same Laotian refugees that were betting on rat fights but this time, the rats were dressed in Barbie clothes. As we walked, Paris tried to convince me that the clothes were to appease "The God of Concrete". I'm no genius, but I was pretty sure the rocker that Paris was off, had gotten a lot farther away.*

 

Paris: "Would you like a huff?"

 

Reporter:...*freaks out*..."GODDAMN IT JOHNNY LEE, I'M NOT FALLING FOR IT AGAIN! LAST TIME YOU HAD ME SO FUCKED UP IN HERE, I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED! WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO TO ME, FUCKER!? WHAT DID YOU FUCKING DOOOO!?"

 

Paris:...*calmly*..."Settle down, I did nothing. You slept on the floor..."...*points*..."right over there. You woke before I and drove off into the morningrise. I know this because I watch my security cameras with my daily huff."

 

Reporter:...*panting*...

 

Paris: "Sit...have a drink, relax..."

 

Reporter: "No fuckin' drinks either Johnny!"

 

Paris: "Have it your way...but please, sit down."

 

Reporter:...*sits down*...

 

Paris: "Ask your questions..."

 

Reporter:...*pauses and regains composure*..."Um...well...shit, I forgot my notebook. Tell me about Taphorn."

 

Paris: "Peter Taphorn is a sexually ambiguous rodeo clown.

 

Reporter: "Excuse me?"

 

Paris: "A sexually ambiguous rodeo clown...well, was...obviously, he is an MMA fighter now but he is a former rodeo clown. Kind of loopy in the head, but very tough. Also, he came to train at my gym when he started using bath salts. That definitely adds to the loopiness I mentioned before..."...*crackwhore gives Paris a huff and he pauses for about 3 minutes*..."his favorite porno is videos of Cus Damato extracting semen from kangaroos and koalas."

 

Reporter: "What the fu..."...*shakes head*..."okay...what interested you in the ITFL?"

 

Paris: "Sean McDonnel came to me and asked for my help in devising a new way to approach running a fight organization. We did a lot of brainstorming, him drinking and me huffing, and came up with the ITFL format. Of course we made a few mistakes with the first run but overall, Season One has been a great success."

 

Reporter: "What did you like best about Season One?"

 

Paris: "Season One will be remembered because it put a few unknowns on the map."

 

Reporter: "Like?"

 

Paris: "Like Tweedle Dee and Dragon Slayer."

 

Reporter: "Oh...good choices. Describe your team for me."

 

Paris:...*staring off into the corner*..."Team Reaper is a dedicated malignant mass of malcontents. Stu is in charge of matchmaking in Season Two because...he brings the heat."...*jaw drops*...

 

Reporter: "Ay dude...dude...DUDE!...PARIIIIS!..."...*snaps fingers and waves arms*..."PARIS! PARIS!"

 

Paris: "I want a toaster that reads emails and changes oil..."

 

Reporter: "What!? Dude...your getting weird on me again. Let's get this over with so I can split. Which fighter do you fear the most?"

 

Paris:...*white begins forming at the corners of his mouth*..."Colin Croft...I'm glad he is on my squad."

 

Reporter: "Reaper won Season One. Why will Reaper dominate Season Two?"

 

Paris:...*starting to nod off*..."Reaper dominated Season...One...with two young projects, two...cans..."...*snores himself awake*..."and...oh! one decent fighter. Sorry, man...Stu and I schooled the other captains with our superior matchmaking skills..."...*wipes corners of the mouth*..."easily the best strategic minds in Season One. Do you want to sleep in one of the rooms upstairs?"

 

Reporter: "No, man...thanks. I gotta get going. Gotta meet up with Duphus on the other side of town tomorrow, plus my ride is waiting out..."

 

Paris: "No need for lies. You're under no obligation. Would you like an Oreo?"

 

Reporter: "No dude...I need to leave...now."

 

Paris: "Okay, okay...thanks for coming by."

 

*The crackwhore showed me to the door. On my way out, I dropped a $5 on a Bikini Barbie rat and he won! Brought me $250 off that bet. Had Paris not been so ethered and Osiris waiting, I might have stayed and made a few more bets. I got back in the car and we cruised to Osiris' gym. He had a room upstairs I could use and did I ever need it. Even sober, that damn JLP is just a mindbender if I ever saw one...*

 

to be continued...

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*Although not really known for their sunrises, the sunrise in Chicago on this particular day was outstanding. I wondered down thru the gym and asked one of the coaches if there was a small diner nearby. He told me "2 blocks up and 1 block over." and off I went. While in the diner, enjoying my coffee, waiting for my breakfast, something felt off. Something felt wrong...like my wallet was in the wrong pocket or something. Then I noticed it, something was rubbing my nipple in a weird way. I pawed at my nipple and felt something in my breast pocket. I never put anything in my breast pocket...ever.

The piece of paper I pulled out had chicken scratch writing on it. It had an address and said:

 

 

for your troubles

 

-jlp

 

*I vaguely remember Johnny saying something about a surprise, but it was clear that I needed more coffee. I stared at the paper as I sat there eating my breakfast, trying to decipher the message. What was the surprise? What troubles? What was Johnny Lee Paris all about? Where was Duphus?

Ruphus Duphus...one of the International Cocksmen from Los Angeles. He was flying in today to meet with me and his ITFL fighter, Tim Smith. Oddly enough, Duphus explained to me that we would have to meet up at the Holiday Inn near the airport. When I asked why, he told me that Smith was found by a nun, abandoned at a church in Chicago, thus the "Plain Jane" name.

When he was old enough, he left the church and spent most of his time on the streets, looking for trouble. Beating after beating made him decide that he needed to learn to fight. He turned to MMA due to it's effectiveness. He ran into trouble though when he found out that trying to train, while bouncing from foster home to foster home, was a bit too tough on him, so he was constantly running away. Now, he only stays in Holiday Inns, as he finds comfort in a hotel because no house feels like a home to him. A true drifter...a nomad...

 

I arrived at the Holiday Inn and went to room 242. Still baffled by the note in my pocket, I cleared my mind and got into "work mode". When I entered the room, Duphus was on his phone finishing up a phone call. "The Bonecrusher", Tim Smith was sitting at the couch, watching ESPN. A beautiful woman invited me in and offered me a drink. I sat down across the couch and Smith turned down the T.V.*

 

Smith: "What's up, man?"

 

Reporter: "Just gettin' to it. How ya been?"

 

Smith: "Good I guess...why the fuck are we in Chicago? I been trying to forget this place for years."

 

Reporter: "Not sure. I was here on other business and Ruphus said you guys would meet me here."

 

Smith: "Whatever, let's get this over with so I can get the fuck outta here asap!"

 

Reporter: "Okay then, how do you feel about the league format?"

 

Smith: "I think we should just fight all the fights in one day. That way it doesn’t have to take months to get my belt and my money."

 

Reporter: "Pretty confident there..."

 

Smith: "Damn right, I think they are all pussies, so bring them all on."

 

Reporter: "So you're worried about none of the other fighters then?"

 

Smith:...*glares*..."None."

 

Reporter: "Okay, why do you feel you're going to win it all?"

 

Smith: "Because, I’m the greatest fighter you don’t know about! I’m young and still learning, a dangerous combo. I will come out on top by the end. Bet on that!"

 

Reporter: "Noted...how about..."

 

Duphus:...*hangs up phone*..."Sorry about that, man! Good to see ya! How was JLP's place!?"...*Smith and Duphus laugh wildly and Smith gets up and leaves the room*...

 

Reporter: "What's that supposed to mean?"

 

Duphus: "Nothing, man...just busting your balls! HAHAHA! JLP can get a little...out there, ya know?"

 

Reporter: "All too well...so why Chicago?"

 

Duphus: "Well, JLP is out here and he can be a handful. Figured I'd make it easy on ya and meet you here...less stress. Also, to be honest, I'm trying to get Tim a bit riled up before the fights. You know, bring him back here and let a little bad blood creep back in. It's worked for several of my other fighters in the past."

 

Reporter: "Clever. So what got you interested in the ITFL anyways?"

 

Duphus: "I just really liked the format. Plus it’s a chance to test yourself against other really good managers in a more frequent setting. You want another drink? You ain't driving are ya?"

 

Reporter: "I'm good for now. So describe Team Reaper for me."

 

Duphus: "I think we have a really good team here, with a nice mix of fighting styles to help out with match-ups and fight selection. Those two aspects are vastly underrated when it comes to team fighting. Reaper proved that in Season One. Also, I think we have the edge over most the other teams, given that we are the defending champs."

 

Reporter: "True. Is there any fighter that scares you in this thing?"

 

Duphus: "There are a lot of really good looking fighters signed and ready to go, but no fighter scares me or my camp. Some may not be the best match up for certain fighters but it’s way too early to say one fighter looks the best. The proof will come once the tourney begins and a few fights happen. Then we'll see a few things hash themselves out and the cream will slowly rise to the top, separating contender from pretender."

 

Reporter: "Well, how about any managers out there? Like someone you'd least like to face?"

 

Duphus: "I think with the right match-ups, any manager can beat any other manager, so I would look at the fighter more then the manager at this point but I do take into account the manager of the fighter when deciding. Like fighters, managers also have tendencies...exploitable tendencies, weaknesses and strengths that when scouted correctly, can give you a distinct advantage or put you in a really bad spot...quick. You really gotta mind you p's and q's when looking at the manager...it's a bit trickier than looking at the fighter."

 

*As Duphus gets a phone call, we hear a scream from above the window and look out just in time to see a body fly by...followed by a large splash, insane laughter and a lady yelling obscenities. It turns out that Smith made his way to the top of the building and jumped off into the swimming pool. The building is only a few stories tall but still a dangerous move...and frowned upon.

Duphus, still on the phone and yelling at Smith at the same time, seemed intent on the business on the other line. The lady was yelling for security, while Smith was essentially telling her off and getting quite angry. It was pretty clear that our stay was not going to be a long one. Duphus, looks over at me and gives a sly smile and a thumbs up. Apparently his plan had worked.*

 

Duphus:...*still on the phone*..."Yeah...yeah...I'll send him asap, man. Yep, he's gonna love this...thanks Johnny."...*hangs up*..."Okay, man. That was JLP and he needs you at that address he gave you as soon as possible. You got a ride?"

 

Reporter: "Yeah, downstairs. What's..."

 

Duphus:...*hurried*..."No time. You need to get over there right now. You'll miss it if you don't...you're gonna love this shit! GO!"

 

Reporter: "Okay, okay..."

 

*As I exited the hotel, a couple of Chicago's finest were walking in with the manager. Smith knew how to cause a scene, especially in his un-hometown and Duphus definitely knew how to motivate his young fighter. Clever to say the least. I hopped in the Navigator and we entered the address into the vehicle GPS. Osiris gave me a look and I shrugged...hesitantly, he pulled out of the parking lot and I noticed the guys in the back all locked and loaded. Where the hell were we going?*

 

http://farm2.staticflickr.com/1178/4593734984_6563d06674_z.jpg

 

*We made our way to the Auburn Gresham neighborhood very cautiously. Osiris and his boys were on high alert over here. He made it very clear that pretty much anyone on the planet should be cautious when anywhere near this part of town.*

 

Osiris: "Statistics are easily made 'roun' here, blood."

 

*This place even smelled dangerous. Dilapidated buildings everywhere, drug dealers and runners on every corner, crackheads stumbling to and fro...yet, it looked like a once decent place. You could just tell that it used to be pretty decent before the drugs and anarchy took over...as you could with so many bad neighborhoods. No one just makes ghettos...they become ghettos.

We made it to the address and before I had a chance to get out, the back doors opened up and guns were drawn. They posted up on each corner of the vehicle and said "CLEAR!"...these guys were not playing around.*

 

Osiris:...*looks over*..."Ay blood...make it quick."

 

Reporter: "I'll try. I don't even know what's goin' on yet."

 

*Before I got out of the car, an armed man came out of the building, stating his name and business here. He said it was his job to escort me to the 14th floor unharmed and that I should "make haste"...who talks like that anymore?

 

The buliding was absolutely disgusting. Crackheads openly torching glass, heroin junkies passed out with needles in their arms, children in fully loaded diapers just running around crying and screaming, people pissing in the corners and smearing their own feces on the wall...mumbling god knows what...this may have been the most terrible place I've ever seen. Luckily, we arrived at 14 with no incident. The weaponry made it a bit easier to maneuver through the crowd of degenerated ghettozombies.

 

We entered the room after an odd knock and it was completely empty. I was very confused when suddenly, The fold up bed in the wall came down revealing a hidden room. We then entered that room and it was no room...but an elevator. I could hear a hiss and started getting dizzy...I couldn't tell if I was going...up...or... ... ...down?......but...

 

I came to and I was lying on a leather couch. The room was dimly lit and had concrete walls and floor. It reminded me of those old military buildings you would see in the movies. Everything grey and dead green. I sat up and 3 men in suits came over to me. They asked if I was okay and talked of security purposes. None looked familiar.

What happened? I've been drugged plenty of times...in fact, I'm sure I may have been drugged more times than any human on Earth. Where does everyone come up with this stuff? Is this common practice? How many times had I been drugged without and NOT known about it?

They brought me a cup of water and told me to come into the other room when I was ready. What did I need to be ready for? They seemed very busy and didn't anser. They just talked amongst themselves as they went around the corner.

 

I finished my water and walked around the corner and stopped in my tracks. In front of me, there was a couple of tables and a few folding chairs. On one of the tables was some sort of machine with a bunch of wires coming out of it. On the left wall there was a water cooler and end table and the wall to the right was completely bare.

The men all stood talking to each other, barely noticing me. They all looked very official, 3 suits and 1 lab coat. Why was there a scientist here? What was going on? I scratched my head when I noticed the wall was covered by some sort of curtain. This had me quite intrigued...what was I witnessing? Was it even legal? To think that I thought it was dangerous outside...

 

One of the men noticed me and urged me to sit down at one of the tables. Reluctantly, I sat down, still drinking my water and he sat across from me giving me some sort of rundown. He explained that he was FBI and JLP had arranged all of this for me. This secret "lair" was his...hence the gas and confusion, Typical JLP, I thought. With that, he motioned to one of the other suits and the curtain dropped, and so did my jaw.

Behind the curtain was another room separated by a plexiglass wall with airholes across the top. Inside this room was a man, a man in an orange jumpsuit and some sort of mask. Shackled wrists and ankles and some sort of restraint around his waist. It was obvious this man was very dangerous. How fitting, I thought. A door opened up behind him and Stu Pidasol walked through it and went to the man, whispering in his ear and pointing directly at me.

 

As Stu walked back into the door, I thought to myself, "is this Julian Knight?"...*

 

Reporter: "What the..."

 

Suit #3: "Sir, this is Julian Knight..."...*pulls out the folder and begins to read*..."Born on March 4th, 1968...the mass murderer who shot dead 7 people and injured 19 during a shooting spree in Clifton Hill, Victoria, Australia, on August 9th,1987...in what became known in Australian history as "The Hoddle Street Massacre". Knight is currently serving 7 consecutive life sentences with non-parole period of 27 years. He is due for release in 2014, however the Victorian Government has stated it's unlikely that he will be released."...*closes the folder and walks to the back of the room*...

 

Suit #1: "He's all yours...you have 10 minutes."...*backs away*...

 

Reporter: "Julian?"

 

Knight: "Yes Clarice..."

 

Reporter: "What!? I..."

 

Knight: "Joke..."

 

Reporter: "Oh...OH!...Right, Silence of the...okay...ummm...how do you feel about the league..."

 

Knight:...*calmly*..."I'm really looking forward to the league format. Let's hope no pussies back out once the arse handings are given, huh? I was talking to my gym mate, Boy Bubby and he's told me most managers in this competition start out confident, then they get the shit kicked through them a couple of times and run away like cowardly dogs...with their tails between their legs."

 

Reporter: "It's probably safe to say that there's no fighter in this league that..."

 

Knight: "There isn't a fighter I don't want to face. In fact, there are a few that I can't wait until I get the opportunity to face them. Nothing better than telling some bitch that his 'can' fighter is going to get knocked out and then getting into the cage and actually doing it."

 

Reporter: "Fair enough...so tell me just how you plan on..."

 

Knight: "I'm going to dominate this league because I've done the scouting of all of my possible opponents and there isn't one fighter

I will have to fight, in the team competition, that is even worthy of washing my jock straps...let alone getting into the cage with the likes of me. I'm looking forward to winning the team competition easily before getting a proper challenge from my Reaper teammates. Blood is blood..."

 

Reporter:...*gulps*..."Disturbing to say the least. Well, that's..."

 

Knight: "All the questions you have? I believe you have a lot more but are not at liberty to ask. I understand. I hope you have a safe journey..."

 

Suit #1: "Time's up..."

 

*The suits started barking orders as the men in the room prepped Knight for travel. Suddenly, Pidasol came into the room.*

 

Reporter: "Stu, what is this all about? I thought..."

 

Pidasol: "Favor to JLP. Plus Victoria needed a test run for their inmate travel system. I figured why not since he's going to be fighting anyways..."

 

Reporter: "Can you answer a few questions?"

 

Pidasol:...*annoyed*..."Make it quick..."

 

Reporter: "What first interested you in the ITFL?"

 

 

Pidasol: "The whole team fighter aspect really interested me. I entered the first season and had had an

absolute ball, the second season is shaping up to be an even better one."

 

Reporter: "That was surprisingly upbeat. Describe Team Reaper for me. You guys are the defending champs now and..."

 

Pidasol: "It's not official yet but...we have dominated Season One. We're a bunch of highly talented managers with highly talented fighters. Plain and simple, really. However, this season we have increased that talent with the addition of my alliancemate Matt Cave, a manager who I believe will be one of the greats in the next few years. He dominated most of the early part of this year and there's plenty left in the tank, mate."

 

Reporter: "Again...very positive answer. I'm quite surprised, really."

 

Pidasol: "The fuck does that mean?"...*glares*...

 

Reporter: "Nothing, nothing...just a figure of speech...is there any fighter in the ITFL that scares you or your camp?"

 

Pidasol:...*confidently*..."No fighters scare me, most look like 'cans' to me. However, if I was the opposition, I would be shitting myself thinking about the prospect of having to face any of Reapers fighters. We almost finished?"

 

Reporter: "A couple more if you will...is there any manager you would leat like to face? Maybe someone that you match up poorly against?"

 

Pidasol: "Hahaha! Manager I least want to face!?...there isn't one! I back myself against ANY manager and ANY fighter in this entire competition!...Scary managers..."...*laughs hard*..."You're a classic!"...*continues laughing*...

 

Reporter: "Okay, last one...Reaper dominated Season One, why will you guys dominate Season Two?"

 

Pidasol:...*long pause before he stops laughing*..."Look...We're the best managers with the best fighters and if ANYONE thinks differently, they can lick my gooch! Print that, we're done here!"

 

*I felt a pinch in in between my shoulder and neck and the next thing I knew, I was waking up back in Osiris's gym. I made my way downstairs and had a terrible stiffness in my neck. Kind of like a tetanus shot or something. This was getting old, fast...*

 

Reporter: "Ray! What the fuck happened, man!?"

 

Osiris: "Fuck if I know, blood. We was just posted up one secon' n' then we see some blood come out wit a limp-ass body...you...n' he jus' drop ya on the sidewalk, blood. We rushed over but he was out...jus' gone, blood. We swooped you up n' split cuz some o' dem boys was on they way lookin' strapped."

 

Reporter: "Damn, man...fukn JLP...That..."...*phone rings*...

 

*via cellphone...

 

 

Reporter: "Yeah?''

 

Cave: "This is Matt Cave..."

 

Reporter: "Matt! Good to hear from ya. Where are you!? Are you in the states?"

 

Cave: "No, mate...but I'm flying to St. Lucia to meet with Copeland if you'd like to join us?"

 

Reporter: "Absolutely...I need to get out of here for a bit anyway."

 

Cave: "Terrific...we'll see you soon then, mate!"

...*click*...

 

*I've never been to St. Lucia but I have heard plenty of stories about it. This is exactly what I needed, a nice, easy, relaxing Carribbean trip. Osiris Dropped me off at the O'Hare the following day. As I sat in the terminal, waiting for my flight, I kept having these odd daydreams, almost like flashbacks of some sort...labs, expensive looking scientific equipment, men in white coats, a full moon in the desert, robotics, zombiefied humans and animals...what in the hell was going on? I definitely needed a vacation...and fast. St. Lucia could not come quick enough...*

 

to be continued...

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*The tiny plane landed right there in Soufriere Bay. I was absolutely taken back as we flew in and i soaked up the gorgeous view of the Pitons...

 

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/incoming/article50090.ece/ALTERNATES/w620/lucia-soufbay.jpg

 

*I got out of the plane and was greeted by none other than Jimmy Sikblood. A native of Hawaii and one of the first fighters to sign with TDC in Hilo. His moment of glory was capturing the Ring Of Fire Bantamweight championship, by dethroning Johnny Quid, on his way to an 8 fight win streak...only to be stopped in a rematch against Quid. Johnny's work ethic was always in question, due in part to his connection with the Penn family...notably, notorious slacker BJ.

This forced JBomb to make a decision and drop Jimmy from the roster and Jimmy never fully recovered. He continued on at ROF and eventually left for Sydney. He later retired and well, I thought he went back to the Penn's and Hilo but as it turns out, he is here in St. Lucia and apparently back on JBomb's payroll, or at very least, in his pocket.*

 

Reporter: "Jimmy! Nice to see ya, man. How the hell have you been?"

 

Sikblood: "Fuckin' excellent! Everything's real lovely over here, bruh!"...*shakes hand*...

 

Reporter: "Damn it's been a while...JBomb send you over?"

 

Sikblood: "Yeah. He keepin' track of ya!

 

Reporter: "Damn that guy. Might as well be my boss! So what brings you out here?"...*follows Sikblood toward the car*...

 

Sikblood: "I got in ta some really heavy shit in Hilo n' JBomb bailed my ass out! Really came though for me, bruh! We both knew I couldn't stay there though but couldn't go back ta the states either...I have to fuckin' have a beach nearby, bruh. So I decided to come here. Lots of retirees out here, bruh. Puno, Takada, Vahaber...couple others all got joints out here. Hope ya don't mind...I brought a friend along for the ride..."

 

http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m98x5dMguB1r09pdzo1_500.jpg

 

Reporter: "I don't mind at all, Jimmy...not at all."...*throws bags in the back of the car*...

 

*It was a short drive to my hotel. Jimmy dropped me off and told me to ring him if I needed anything else. I found my way to my room, unpacked, called Matt Cave and set up a meeting over at Dirk's place in Pitons Bay. I made my way to the pool and got exactly what I was looking for...*

 

http://www.cntraveler.com/hotels/caribbean/st-lucia/bodyholiday-at-lesport-st-lucia-st-lucia-st-lucia/_jcr_content/par/cn_contentwell/par-main/cn_colctrl/par-col1/cn_rotator/item0.size.bodyholiday-at-le-sport-st-lucia-102116-6.jpg

 

*It was empty and absolutely quiet. The concierge assured me that none of the guests came out here this early and the guests who were out early were usually out at the beach. I had a good hour or so to myself...or so I was told. I laid out on the lounger, closed my eyes and soaked up some sun. When I woke up, I felt great, fully refreshed. Funny how much I really enjoy sleeping when it's not drug induced or against my will. I almost forgot what that was like.

I heard a bit of commotion to the left and noticed Fidel Puno signing autographs. I thought about going over there but just couldn't get out of the lounger. Besides, he had plenty on his plate and is retired. No need for me to bother him. I opted for a swim instead...and not a dive from the rooftop either. The water felt glorious on my body...damn I needed this.

 

After lunch, I went for a hike up to the southeast. The scenery here was nothing short of amazing and luckily, my guide didn't speak any English so he was dead quiet the entire time. Just what I needed. We reached our destination right about sunset and the view of the Pitons was stunning...*

 

http://images.fineartamerica.com/images-medium-large/pitons-at-sunset-st-lucia-chester-williams.jpg

 

*We decided to head back before it got too terribly dark. Dinner was on tap and I was getting a bit hungry. After a bit of hustling and some headlamps, we made it back to the hotel with minimal stress. I was feeling great. After dinner, I decided on a drink and a movie. I fell asleep during the movie, some lame action flick with Clive Owen...can't stand that guy.

That may have been the best sleep ever and the best wake up...ocean waves all night. After some coffee, I went out to the front of the hotel and awaited my ride. Dirk was sending a car over to pick me up.

I was picked up in a bland BMW by a bland local...quiet local. I was beginning to love this place. No riddles, clues, guns, stress, drama...just simple island life. We forget how complicated our lives actually are until we can slow down, sit back and evaluate. There's so much going on, sometimes we don't have time to think...just react. That's what my life had become, just a series of reactions to the situations around me. Was I living life, or was I just breathing? Was I just going through the motions like some sort of automaton?

 

We reached Dirk's place and my jaw just dropped. it was absolutely beauitiful...*

 

http://www.villasofdistinction.com/process/assets/images/4134/gabriel_house_st_lucia_rear_exterior_over_pool.jpg

 

Reporter: "Dirk, holy hell this place is just..."

 

Copeland: "I know...that's why I moved here. You should see Vahaber's place up on the hill. Equally as nice. How's your trip been so far?"

 

Reporter: "One of the greatest..."

 

Copeland: "That's fantastic. Let's head inside, shall we?"

 

*We walked up to the villa and went inside. It was as immaculate as the outside. We took a quick tour of the place. I noticed that Stu Pidasol made it out here already as he was joined by Matt Cave, Mitch McDonald and I'm pretty sure...Danny Trejo?*

 

Reporter: "Dirk, is that Danny Trejo, man?"

 

Copeland: "Oh...yeah, we hang out a bit. You see Mitch (McDonald) made it out also? I tell ya, Mitch is the man, man. He's our Assistant Team Coach, mascot, punmaster, cornerman, cutman, pimp, the lot really....you name it, Mitch is on the job. He's basically our general guru and wisdom giver, due to his tournament specialist-background-type thing.

 

Reporter: "..."

 

Copeland: "Oh and if for some reason you don't know who the famous Mitch McDonald is, then God have mercy on your soul. He's a tournament specialist who famously went through the first 15 rounds of LoL (League of Legends) scoring 15 consecutive knockout victories, trash talking to the highest degree along the way, before a fluke 'cut loss' stopped him in his tracks. After that it was all downhill, he was largely bullied by the likes of Djoser Rei, but that's beside the point."

 

Reporter: "Rumor has it that Djoser Rei popped by for a day visit and knocked Mitch out for a fourth time during his last trip out."

 

Copeland:...*slightly flustered*..."That cannot be confirmed at this point and is purely speculation. I advise you not to bring up Djoser around him during your stay."

 

Reporter: "Gotcha...so Dirk..."

 

Copeland:...*grabs 2 beers*..."Want a beer?"

 

Reporter: "Sure, why not. So Dirk...what first interested you in the ITFL?"

 

Copeland:...*takes a drink*..."Ah...well, something different for me. I haven't ever seen anything like it prior so it was relatively new..."

 

Reporter: "What was?"

 

Copeland: "The team aspect of MMA. it's great and really drew my attention to ITFL."

 

Reporter: "I see. Describe your team and teammates for me."

 

Copeland: "We come to fight and we come to finish..."...*takes a drink*..."...and even when we lose, it doesn't matter because we're still better looking than all of you, which of course is the most important thing."

 

Reporter: "That's an interesting take. Is there any fighter in ITFL that you fear at all?"

 

Copeland: "Yes...Steve Menzies! I'm scared if any of our team fight him, we might kill him inside the cage! HAHAHA! I don't think any of us want to go to prison, we're far too good looking to last long in a place like that!"...*begins laughing and I notice that out on the back deck with Stu, Matt and Trejo is former Cricketeer, Colin Croft and current Jamaican Cricketeer, Chris Gayle*...

 

Reporter: "Is that Chris Gayle?"

 

Copeland:...still laughing*..."Yes it is! hey do you know my boy Cornel? Cornel is cool, calm and collected...he doesn't take life to seriously and just likes to spend time relaxing and enjoying the sun, sea and sand...BUT...when he's confronted or steps into the cage, God have mercy on their soul! That's when all the inner anger comes out!"

 

Reporter:...*perplexed*..."Huh...anyways, any manager you're not really looking forward to facing?"

 

Copeland:...*regains composure*..."Absolutely...Manuel Tosen, as no doubt it'll lead to some ridiculous bet and I'll have to let him teabag me or something crazy like that!"

 

*We make our way to the backyard with the rest of the party. We take a break from the interview and have a few more beers. Copeland unveils a massive theater style screen and a projection T.V. He puts in "Machete" and we all go silent. Glued to the movie, I didn't even notice JLP sitting next to me...*

 

Paris:...*whispers*..."Hi..."

 

Reporter:...*jumps and spills beer*..."JESUS! WHAT THE FUCK, DUDE!?"

 

...*everyone begins to laugh*...

 

Paris: "Team Reaper...remember?"

 

Reporter:...*sits back down and wipes lap*..."Yeah, yeah...whatever."

 

*The movie ends and Gayle leaves and Trejo heads inside with McDonald for a game of pool. Cave, Pidasol and JLP start discussing strategy...already. Copeland and Cornel Develutian sit next to me and crack open more beers.*

 

Reporter: "Okay...last one for Dirk. Why will Team Reaper dominate ITFL's Season Two?"

 

Copeland: "Again!?"

 

Reporter: "Yes...again."

 

Copeland: "Well firstly after winning Season One in ITFL, naturally people are going to be shit scared of us after that! Secondly, we're just so damn good looking, it'll be hard for other fighters to concentrate on the fight when they've stood in the cage thinking, 'Hey, why can't I be as good looking as him?' and thirdly..."...*gets up and walks to the railing overlooking Pitons Bay with arms outstretched*..."..we have the entire island of St. Lucia behind us!"...*laughs and begins to stumble towards the house...mumbling something about a handjob*...

 

Reporter: "So Cornel...what do you think of the league format?"

 

Develutian: "I prefer a knockout format to be honest, it's nothing against the league or anything, I just kinda like knockouts, you know?"

 

Reporter: "A bit redundant but given our alcohol intake, I can dig it..."...*laughter*..."Okay, man...is there any fighter in this thing that you don't want to face or are scared of?"

 

Develutian: "I fear no man. My only equal is Danny Trejo and it's a shame he's not taking part in the tournament, it would have been a hell of a fight!"...*takes another drink*...

 

Reporter:...*feeling tipsy*..."Why you do think of you winning this whole ITFL?"

 

Develutian: "Growing up on the beautiful island of St Lucia I used to break open coconuts with my bare hands! Now I plan to do the same to my opponent.s skulls!..."...*stands up and raises his beer...almost falling over*..."fear the St. Lucian Revolution as it's gonna be your execution when you step into the cage with the epitome of evolution, Cornel Develutian!"...*smiles*...

 

*We hear Trejo begin to laugh from all the way outside and we all share a big laugh along with him. The rest of the night is great. So peaceful...beer, good people, pretty women, JLP was nowhere to be found...all around good times. We didn't even need to go inside to sleep, the night was amazing. I can't remember the last time I slept under the stars like that.

 

I woke up and wandered inside. There were sleeping women everywhere I looked...McDonald was cooking breakfast...*

 

Reporter: "You cook too?"

 

McDonald: "Aye! Whatcha have!?"

 

Reporter: "Coffee, bacon...eggs...over easy...please."

 

McDonald: "Comin' right up!"

 

*Mitch slides a perfect cup of coffee over to me and I see Matt Cave reading the newspaper quietly. I take a drink of the coffee and take a seat next to him. Immediately I am flanked by Croft. McDonald offers him a coffee but he declines, opting for a bottled water instead.*

 

Reporter: "Some night, huh?"

 

Cave: "Yeah..."

 

Reporter: "Such an amazing place. I can see..."

 

Cave: "Just ask..."

 

Reporter:...*gulps down coffee*..."Okay then...what drew you to the ITFL initially?"

 

Cave:...*doesn't look up from the paper*..."The chance to join the all-conquering Reaper team. What else?"

 

Reporter: "Croft?"

 

Croft: "I'm very intrigued by the league format. I've not many pro fights under my belt at all anyway, so everything is fairly new to me."

 

Reporter: "Is there any fighter that scares you guys at all?"

 

Croft: "I've not looked that far ahead. I don't even know who my teammates are yet. I was asked by Matt if I was interested in representing our camp and I jumped at the chance. Other than working hard in the gym, I've not thought too much more about anything else really."

 

Cave: "None scare me. I'm a manager. I'm scared for our fighters' opponents though, naturally."

 

Reporter: "Naturally...describe Reaper for me, Matt."

 

Cave: "Winners..."

 

Reporter: "..."

 

Cave: "..."

 

Reporter: "Okay then, is there any manager you least want to face?"

 

Cave: "I honestly don't even know who else is competing, as I've not checked it out. i am however, entirely relaxed about whoever it might be."

 

*McDonald brings over two plates, one for Cave and one for me. We each take a few bites of our food, acknowledge McDonald's ability and then begin to talk again. Cave definitely does not mess around when it comes to this sort of thing. Clear and concise...which is fine with me at this point. I'm interested in the jet skis I saw earlier yesterday when I first arrived...*

 

Reporter: "Reaper brought you on to the team for a reason, why will you dominate Season Two?"

 

Cave: "Simple...we have the best managers, and the best fighters. It's a tough combination to beat..."

 

Reporter: "Simple is right. How about you Colin?"

 

Croft: "It's cliche to say 'no one messes with...'. It's also invariably untrue. Someone will inevitably mess with them, just like someone will no doubt, mess with me. It's MMA. What is true though, is they'll be regretting it the next morning and the days and weeks that follow, believe that."

 

Reporter: "That's it guys. I'm off for the rest of the week. Thanks...let's enjoy the day, huh?"

 

Cave:...*finally smiles*..."Indeed..."

 

Croft: "Yes!"

 

*These two were all business...when there was business to be had. I found out later on that they are all only serious when need be. After the jet skis, another hike and a sunset was in order. This time from the south of the Pitons. Afterwards, we reconvened at Dirk's and watched a sneak preview of "Machete Kills", courtesy of Trejo. More women and booze, this time a bit heavier for me. I was now on vacation and ready to let loose. I still had a lot of work ahead of me and I knew it, but for right now, I was slowing down and living life...

 

http://mw2.google.com/mw-panoramio/photos/medium/9047266.jpg

 

 

to be continued...

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