March 30, 2015

As Nessa Wall and Matt Stone walked through the historic Toronto Eaton Centre, she kept up a steady monologue of the significance of every store front they passed that he was only half listening to. When they finally arrived at the middle of the upper level, she tugged on his hand, pointing like an eager child as her eyes lit up. The most important word in the English language was plastered in the windows of her favourite shoe store: SALE. “I promise I won’t take forever,” she said, handing her shopping bags to him, “but right now is the best time to look at boots! They’re always clearance when winter’s halfway over!”

“Boots?” He asks, as if the very word made his eyes roll back into his head. It had already been two hours of mall wondering, at least to him, and getting harassed by the seven-year-old that recognized them certainly didn’t add to the ‘joy’ he was feeling. Still, because it was her, he simply nodded his head and followed her lead towards what was already a mob-esque like scene of women trying on various types of footwear that would have even impressed Valentina Lozano. “There better be a place to sit, is all I can say.”

She gestured vaguely towards a bank of chairs where another helpless man sat, clutching a bedazzled purse. “I’ll only be a few minutes, I promise!” And then she vanished into the melee.

“Not even a kiss goodbye, eh? Okay then.” He says to no one in particular as Nessa dashes off to find her fiftieth pair of boots as Matt sits down on the bench, glaring over at Billy Bob, the name he assigned to this other man. Electing not to waste this time, he turns on his camera on his phone and starts talking

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“Hello SVW faithful, I am of course your hero, the Straight Shooter coming to you live from this bench. Now, you may be wondering why, of all places, am I sitting on this bench. Well let me tell you all a little something about endurance. I have been to nine, count them, nine different clothing or accessory stores with Nessa. A lesser man would be on the ground right now gasping for breath, but not me. Granted I’m enjoying a little sit right now, but if I needed to I could go to another dozen. Reason being that I have been spending the better part of the last two weeks on the treadmill, out going for walks and carbo loading because I have quite the mountain to climb come Aggression. Apparently because of my size, or rather, my lack of size, there have been a lot of people on social media suggesting that I’m going to resemble a pancake by the end of the night. Well let me tell you something...

Nessa’s hand closed over his shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “Hey, hon?” She didn’t even notice that he was filming, “do you like these ones better in red or blue?” With each colour, she showed off a different foot, exactly the same shoe just in a different shade of leather.

Barely glancing over at her, Matt half heartedly points to the right foot, which happened to be wearing the red shoe, though it’s clear to the audience he barely looks at them.

“You didn’t even look!” She huffed, glancing down herself, “although you’re right. The red’s actually cuter.” She leaned in and kissed his cheek, “thanks, sweetie.”

Shaking his head, Matt goes back to the camera. “As I was saying, despite popular opinion, I have no plans on getting squashed Monday night. I’m never going to be stronger than Paul, I know that going in so why train my muscles when I can focus on other areas? My speed advantage will be even more impressive, my mind, some might say my greatest strength is always going to be shown off and technical prowess? Do I even need to bring up that I can wrestle circles around James? It’s painfully obvious, I hope.”

“What do you think of these?” Nessa was back, this time wearing a pair of suede knee-high boots in a horrible shade of baby poop brown. “I’m not really sure about the colour…” she said, “do you think they’re too ugly?”

“Hmm?”” he asks, turning to her, but looking up at her face. “No, you look good, Ness,” was the response she gets before he turns back to his phone. “So Paul James can have all the strength in the world for all I care, I concede that one small aspect of this sport to him, but leverage, speed, intelligence, technical prowess and yes, even showmanship, are all in my corner. I’m on my way to the Pride championship and while some may turn their noses up at that title, I don’t. I’m going to take that title and make it. Misty may be the champion but I’m the talk of the division. I’m the one on the forefront of everyone’s thoughts and when that championship is finally around my waist, it’s going to stay like that. How’s Mika going to feel when the Pride title is the championship that goes on last? Even Todd Williams might have to take a backseat to me when I have that championship note beside my name. I’m always the one putting on the best matches of the night, but my profile just hasn’t been raised as quickly as I would have liked. That changes next month. That championship, the Pride championship appropriately enough, will have never been so important than when I have it, that much I promise, but it all starts with Paul James’ defeat on Aggression. Nothing more than a warm-up, and next week? Next week I right a wrong that plagued me last year.”

“Matt?” Nessa was back a third time, standing there in a pair of black stiletto-heeled boots that were completely impractical. When he didn’t acknowledge her in the slightest, she said his name louder. “Matthew?!”

He wants to keep talking, but with Nessa’s insistent calling, he has to at least look up, right? “Yes?” he asks as he peers over his phone, though not for long.

Having expected that lack of interest, she turned around, bending down slightly and posing so that her assets were on display in the best possible way before asking, “do these make my butt look weird or fantastic? Be honest.”

Matt just stares at her for a moment, barely hearing her but this time he has a pretty good excuse as to why. “Fan-tASS-tic,” he says, trailing off. He closes his phone here, getting up for a closer look.