(for the terribleminds.com challenge)
World Wide Wandering Wendigo Wrestler
by Philip Overby
Wally Wreckluse pulled his tights over his mangled jock from the previous night's wendigo wrangling. Not that any women in Mudmap had shown interest in Wally's oiled up physique and orange, ogre-esque appearance. They liked lumberjacks and bikers. Hunters and hockey players. Men's men.
This night pitted Wally against a wily wendigo called Goatdrinker. How he drank goats, Wally didn't know. Battle in a steel cage tonight. His home. No trees to hide behind. No mountains. Just Wally, hot oil, and steel
The announcer's voice crackled from a busted microphone. "On his way to the ring. From Parts Unknown. Weighing in at 295 pounds. The Jacked-Up Jaguar. The Blond Butcher of Bhutan..."
"Bhutan? I'm from Milwaukee." Wally danced in place like he was about to piss himself or kick someone's ass.
"...the Warlock Womb-thief of Wisconsin, Wally Wreckluse!" The announcer shouted. The drunk people in the crowd clapped.
The butt-rock music blared and Wally burst through the curtain, screaming "Come on!" and "Alright!" He clapped hands with a toothless woman in the front row, a man with a massive beard, and a kid eating a powdered donut. Wally got some jelly on his hand. He tried to play it off, wiping the strawberry smear across his chest like he just killed a buck.
He rattled the cage, yodeling to get the crowd behind him. They wanted blood though.
"Get in the zone, bro. Make him tap and get some gym time in before 10."
No music accompanied the wendigo. Handlers led the beast to the ring, his eyes crazed. His chains jangled as they took the blood-lusting beast inside.
"Here's Goatdrinker!" The announcer scaled up and out of the cage before the wendigo was unchained. Wally tried to smile, but in truth he shat his black trunks every time one of the beasts stood across from him. Winning was his only option. How else would he make a living if he couldn't twist abominable snow men with abdominal stretches. If he couldn't give the big boot to Bigfoot. Or, yes, suplex a Sasquatch. His livelihood relied on humiliating mythical forest monsters. If he couldn't do that, he just didn't know what he'd do.
The chains came off and the trainers scurried away. The cage door slammed behind Goatdrinker. A pinkish foam rolled from his mouth. His black within black eyes cold and dark.
The bell rang. Some woman hollered "Tear his fuckin' head off, boy!" Wally assumed she addressed him.
Adjusting his junk, Wally circled the beast, eyes locked on its leg. Always the weakness. Wendigo legs snapped like twigs. But those snapping jaws. Those ripping claws. Meat falls right off the bone like BBQ ribs if that wendigo gets its hold. The luchadore El Blowfish became quivering hamburger after a match with a wendigo named Warthog Assassin in Pittsburgh.
Wally shot in, but Goatdrinker was too spry and darted out of the way. No reaction. Just watching. A smart one. Wally looked for another opening, but he side-stepped.
He'd try a different approach. Brute strength.
"Let's go!" Wally rallied the comatose crowd and barreled into Goatdrinker with a dreaded double-axe handle to the jaw. The wendigo staggered back into the bars of the cage. Spat blood. Roared, much to the delight of the crowd and went for a cross-body block onto Wally. He ducked and the wendigo hurtled over him, cracking his face on the other side of the cage.
Wally then locked in a sleeper hold, clasping his arms together around Goatdrinker's throat. The beast sputtered, falling to one knee. The crowd chanted. "Wally! Wally!"
Then something curious happened. The wendigo talked. "Come on, brother. Let me win. My woman's here."
"In the front row. Brunette in the red sweater." Goatdrinker gasped for air. "I won't hurt you much. I'll just spread that jelly around. It'll look like I just mauled the shit out of you."
"Uh, I won't get paid." Wally whispered to the fading wendigo. "This is my life, man."
"I'll make it worth it." Goatdrinker said. "Rematch of the century. In Toronto. I've got connections. Believe me. I can hook this up."
"I don't know, dude. If this gets out--" The wendigo's arms went rubbery. The crowd whipped into a frenzy now, even the hookers and junkies who outside came in to join in the fun.
"Seriously. Do me a solid." The wendigo mustered. "Please."
Wally, his credibility on the line, realized he had to do something.
He squeezed tighter. Goatdrinker tapped.
Victory. He'd won the day. There would be no rematch.
Wally hopped out of the cage to approach the sexy woman in the red sweater. She looked Wally up and down as he flexed his pectoral muscles, putting her in a beefcake-induced trance.
Wally, that glistening stud, extended his hand to the woman. "Hi. Name's Wally. Couldn't help noticing you as I totally choked that guy. That's how hot you are."
The girl suddenly burst into tears. "I'm pregnant you jerk!" She slapped Wally across the face.
The crowd "oohed" as she stormed out of the building. When Wally looked back into the cage, Goatdrinker kicking invisible sand, he knew what he had to do. He couldn't ruin this. Take money away from a struggling forest creature and his family.
"I'm not finished with you. I want more! Me and you. Next week. For the Mudmap Championship."
The crowd exploded as Goatdrinker jumped out of the cage and mauled the shit out of Wally. Wally held his chest, the jelly smeared into his well-sprayed skin.
"Call an ambulance!" Wally writhed on the floor. As Goatdrinker walked away, Wally thought he saw him wink.
Wally screamed. "Get ready for vengeance, bro!"
People took pictures, covered their mouths in shock. As Wally screamed, "God, so much blood!" There was more money to be made. For everyone.