Post by Oliver Price on Jul 28, 2016 8:21:51 GMT -6
“Oliver you can’t knock him out from that position, fer fucks sake, use yer little pea brain would’ya”
It was true. That was the purpose of this entire session in the gym was to try and get him to rely on his technical training more than his natural talent for knocking people out with his right hand. His opponent, and long time friend, Jimmy Callahan had him on his back and was running him through the ringer of technical ground assault. At first he had tried to work his way out of it but his friend had been more persistent than usual and hadn’t simply let him escape, a fact that had frustrated Oliver and had caused him to forget his gameplan and fall back on what was more natural to him. He had landed a number of fairly decent strikes, and Jimmy’s face was showing that much but it hadn’t been enough to get him out of the predicament that he was in.
“He’s a FOCKIN PUSSY, Mac,” Oliver spewed at the man who had been imploring him to think instead of trying to get out of every situation with his fists. Unsurprisingly his friend didn’t take kindly to being called a pussy and immediately transitioned into a perfect chokehold which left Oliver no choice but to tap the mat furiously. Jimmy held onto the hold for an extra half second longer than he really should have but eventually let Oli go and stood up with a smirk on his face. “Who’s the fockin pussy now, Oli,” Jimmy asked as Oliver had pushed himself back up to one knee. Inhaling rapidly and deeply, trying to regain the breath that had just been forcibly taken from him, Oliver nodded as he stood the rest of the way up. With his hands on his hips stepped towards his friend, who had his arms stretched outwide as though he was searching for a hug. With lightning quick speed Olivers right hand flashed forward, connected with Jimmy’s draw, and dropped him like a sack of potatoes.
With a smirk, Oliver stepped over his friend as the his trainer and the owner of the gym took a moment to process what had just happened. “Oh Mary Mother of Jesus, Oliver. Again?” Oli grinned at the man widely and shrugged. “He called me a pussy, Mac.” Already, however, Oliver was kneeling down beside his friend to help him back up to his feet. Rubbing his jaw Jimmy shook his head in seeming disappointment. “Would yeh stop focking around Oli. Yeh think I don’t know when yer pullin yer punches?” It was true he had pulled off right at the end but, truth be told, he couldn’t help it. He just wasn’t quite as focused as he should have been.
While he and Jimmy were conversing an elderly woman, Bridget, who had been Mac’s secretary since the world was created (at least that’s what Oliver was convinced of anyway) came and pulled the trainer into the office. Before disappearing completely, Mac bellowed at them, “Try not ta kill each other you two. And keep yer eyes offa me daughter.” Truth be told, Oliver had had eyes for Catriona MacDougal since his seventh birthday when she had come dressed in a lily white dress, her bright red locks of hair dangling loosely down over her shoulders. She had been beautiful to him then and to this day she was still the most gorgeous thing he had ever laid eyes on. Despite his affinity for sweet talking women, whenever he had tried to speak to Cat he always made a fool of himself. She knew as much, of course, and for years had tormented him by making a point to speak to him at every given opportunity. Naturally, today was not going to be any different as she approached the two men from the other side of the gym. “Oi, well. I think that’s me cue to take a piss,” Jimmy said, begging off in order to make Oliver’s misery that much worse. That’s how Oli saw it anyway.
“Jimmy, lay off the donuts would’ya?” Cat shouted as Jimmy scurried away, her eyes turning to Oliver and her face lighting up in a smile that Oli was convinced belonged to an angel. “Hello Oliver, how’s the family?” As was the habit any time she spoke to him he just stared at her blankly, trying to comprehend in his mind why such a beautiful, angelic creature would acknowledge him or give him the time of day. Several long and excruciatingly uncomfortable moments of silence passed as Cat’s smile slowly faded from her face, her eyes breaking contact with his gaze to find something less awkward to look at on the floor. “Right. Erm. Family. Me brudder is having a baby. Well, his wife is. You know Callum, don’t yeh? Of course yeh do. What am I speaking of?” He rocked back and forth on his feet hoping for anything that would help him escape the miserable position he found himself in. That escape came in the form of the meaty paw of his trainer, and Catriona’s father, smacking him in the back of the head. “I told yeh not teh look at me daughter, Oli, and here yeh are talkin to’er.” Oliver mumbled an apology and rubbed the spot on the back his head where he had just been smacked.
“Pop, he didn’t come talk to me. I came and talked to him.” Catriona smiled sweetly at her father and once again Oliver was mesmerized. “Oh fer fucks sake, Cat, stop toying with the lad. Run along now, I’ve got business to discuss with Oliver.” The innocent and sweet look on Cat’s face disappeared immediately and transformed into a look of absolute fury at being dismissed in such a manner. Oli allowed himself to be steered away from the fuming mad object of his affection, and into the office where Mac handled most of his business. After directing Oliver to a seat, Mac picked up a stack of papers off of a fax machine that looked like it hadn’t been used in over a decade. “I found yeh a job, Oliver. A place to actually use your talents. No, I do not mean another pub for you to brawl in with a bunch o’drunks. Honor Wrestling contacted me about yeh near a week ago now and called this morning to tell me they were faxing a contract over for yeh. Yeh’ll sign it and yeh’ll go.” He really wasn’t sure what Mac was talking about but before he could fully comprehend what he was doing, he was signing his name to a contract.
A few moments later, when his mind stopped spinning from the rapid fire succession of events he had just gone through he finally spoke. “But Mac, this company. It says it’s in the States. I can’t go to the States. What about me mum? What about Jimmy? What about…,” he shifted without realizing it to look out of the window of the office into the gym where Cat was unleashing her rage on a punching bag. “We’ll be fine. Cat’ll be fine. She’s not fer you, Oliver. I’ve been tellin yeh that fer years and you just wouldn’t listen ta me.” Oliver’s brow furrowed at being told that Cat wasn’t for him. He was quite aware he wasn’t good enough for her but that didn’t mean that Mac had to be the one to tell him no. “What’s that supposed tah mean, Mac? I work hard. I stay outta trouble fer the most part. You don’t think I’d be good for yer daughter?” The old man smiled and shook his head, knowing that wasn’t the case at all, and moved around to pat Oliver on the shoulder. “Yeh’ve signed yer contract Oli. Yeh’ve got teh go now.”
Oliver, for a brief moment, considered dropping the old man just like he had done to Jimmy a few moments earlier. Instead, he stood up and moved away from the old man. “Ah, feck it.” Without another word he bolted out of the office and made his way over to Cat where he grabbed her by the waist and spun her toward him, kissing her square on the lips. The moment seemed like an eternity to him and yet a flash at the same time, but when it was over he pushed her back half a step from him. “Sorry Cat, I gotta go.” And without another word, Oliver Price turned and ran full speed out of the gym.
On his way home to pack his things.
On his way to the United States.
On his way to Honor Wrestling.
It was true. That was the purpose of this entire session in the gym was to try and get him to rely on his technical training more than his natural talent for knocking people out with his right hand. His opponent, and long time friend, Jimmy Callahan had him on his back and was running him through the ringer of technical ground assault. At first he had tried to work his way out of it but his friend had been more persistent than usual and hadn’t simply let him escape, a fact that had frustrated Oliver and had caused him to forget his gameplan and fall back on what was more natural to him. He had landed a number of fairly decent strikes, and Jimmy’s face was showing that much but it hadn’t been enough to get him out of the predicament that he was in.
“He’s a FOCKIN PUSSY, Mac,” Oliver spewed at the man who had been imploring him to think instead of trying to get out of every situation with his fists. Unsurprisingly his friend didn’t take kindly to being called a pussy and immediately transitioned into a perfect chokehold which left Oliver no choice but to tap the mat furiously. Jimmy held onto the hold for an extra half second longer than he really should have but eventually let Oli go and stood up with a smirk on his face. “Who’s the fockin pussy now, Oli,” Jimmy asked as Oliver had pushed himself back up to one knee. Inhaling rapidly and deeply, trying to regain the breath that had just been forcibly taken from him, Oliver nodded as he stood the rest of the way up. With his hands on his hips stepped towards his friend, who had his arms stretched outwide as though he was searching for a hug. With lightning quick speed Olivers right hand flashed forward, connected with Jimmy’s draw, and dropped him like a sack of potatoes.
With a smirk, Oliver stepped over his friend as the his trainer and the owner of the gym took a moment to process what had just happened. “Oh Mary Mother of Jesus, Oliver. Again?” Oli grinned at the man widely and shrugged. “He called me a pussy, Mac.” Already, however, Oliver was kneeling down beside his friend to help him back up to his feet. Rubbing his jaw Jimmy shook his head in seeming disappointment. “Would yeh stop focking around Oli. Yeh think I don’t know when yer pullin yer punches?” It was true he had pulled off right at the end but, truth be told, he couldn’t help it. He just wasn’t quite as focused as he should have been.
While he and Jimmy were conversing an elderly woman, Bridget, who had been Mac’s secretary since the world was created (at least that’s what Oliver was convinced of anyway) came and pulled the trainer into the office. Before disappearing completely, Mac bellowed at them, “Try not ta kill each other you two. And keep yer eyes offa me daughter.” Truth be told, Oliver had had eyes for Catriona MacDougal since his seventh birthday when she had come dressed in a lily white dress, her bright red locks of hair dangling loosely down over her shoulders. She had been beautiful to him then and to this day she was still the most gorgeous thing he had ever laid eyes on. Despite his affinity for sweet talking women, whenever he had tried to speak to Cat he always made a fool of himself. She knew as much, of course, and for years had tormented him by making a point to speak to him at every given opportunity. Naturally, today was not going to be any different as she approached the two men from the other side of the gym. “Oi, well. I think that’s me cue to take a piss,” Jimmy said, begging off in order to make Oliver’s misery that much worse. That’s how Oli saw it anyway.
“Jimmy, lay off the donuts would’ya?” Cat shouted as Jimmy scurried away, her eyes turning to Oliver and her face lighting up in a smile that Oli was convinced belonged to an angel. “Hello Oliver, how’s the family?” As was the habit any time she spoke to him he just stared at her blankly, trying to comprehend in his mind why such a beautiful, angelic creature would acknowledge him or give him the time of day. Several long and excruciatingly uncomfortable moments of silence passed as Cat’s smile slowly faded from her face, her eyes breaking contact with his gaze to find something less awkward to look at on the floor. “Right. Erm. Family. Me brudder is having a baby. Well, his wife is. You know Callum, don’t yeh? Of course yeh do. What am I speaking of?” He rocked back and forth on his feet hoping for anything that would help him escape the miserable position he found himself in. That escape came in the form of the meaty paw of his trainer, and Catriona’s father, smacking him in the back of the head. “I told yeh not teh look at me daughter, Oli, and here yeh are talkin to’er.” Oliver mumbled an apology and rubbed the spot on the back his head where he had just been smacked.
“Pop, he didn’t come talk to me. I came and talked to him.” Catriona smiled sweetly at her father and once again Oliver was mesmerized. “Oh fer fucks sake, Cat, stop toying with the lad. Run along now, I’ve got business to discuss with Oliver.” The innocent and sweet look on Cat’s face disappeared immediately and transformed into a look of absolute fury at being dismissed in such a manner. Oli allowed himself to be steered away from the fuming mad object of his affection, and into the office where Mac handled most of his business. After directing Oliver to a seat, Mac picked up a stack of papers off of a fax machine that looked like it hadn’t been used in over a decade. “I found yeh a job, Oliver. A place to actually use your talents. No, I do not mean another pub for you to brawl in with a bunch o’drunks. Honor Wrestling contacted me about yeh near a week ago now and called this morning to tell me they were faxing a contract over for yeh. Yeh’ll sign it and yeh’ll go.” He really wasn’t sure what Mac was talking about but before he could fully comprehend what he was doing, he was signing his name to a contract.
A few moments later, when his mind stopped spinning from the rapid fire succession of events he had just gone through he finally spoke. “But Mac, this company. It says it’s in the States. I can’t go to the States. What about me mum? What about Jimmy? What about…,” he shifted without realizing it to look out of the window of the office into the gym where Cat was unleashing her rage on a punching bag. “We’ll be fine. Cat’ll be fine. She’s not fer you, Oliver. I’ve been tellin yeh that fer years and you just wouldn’t listen ta me.” Oliver’s brow furrowed at being told that Cat wasn’t for him. He was quite aware he wasn’t good enough for her but that didn’t mean that Mac had to be the one to tell him no. “What’s that supposed tah mean, Mac? I work hard. I stay outta trouble fer the most part. You don’t think I’d be good for yer daughter?” The old man smiled and shook his head, knowing that wasn’t the case at all, and moved around to pat Oliver on the shoulder. “Yeh’ve signed yer contract Oli. Yeh’ve got teh go now.”
Oliver, for a brief moment, considered dropping the old man just like he had done to Jimmy a few moments earlier. Instead, he stood up and moved away from the old man. “Ah, feck it.” Without another word he bolted out of the office and made his way over to Cat where he grabbed her by the waist and spun her toward him, kissing her square on the lips. The moment seemed like an eternity to him and yet a flash at the same time, but when it was over he pushed her back half a step from him. “Sorry Cat, I gotta go.” And without another word, Oliver Price turned and ran full speed out of the gym.
On his way home to pack his things.
On his way to the United States.
On his way to Honor Wrestling.