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Description

Crush Rush bounced up and down like a boxer, breathing heavily as he grunted with every punch fired to the air. He was calm, yet focused, feeling the transformation of himself from his normal everyday demeanor to a fighting machine. His trademark red briefs along with matching red arm and knee pads were the only form of clothing over his bare, green scaled body. Crush ceased his warmup, to stretch his arms and flex. A proud smile curled on the side of his face as he admired the exceptional shape, he had managed to bring his body in, over the course of his wrestling career. Many years of discipline and training had brought his body from being merely athletic to an ‘all-out tank built for war.’

            Crush draped his prized AWF belt over his shoulder, serving as the trophy of his success.

          Crush draped his prized AWF belt over his shoulder, serving as the trophy of his success. It still was surreal for him to stop and reflect on that he had finally joined the ranks of one of those wrestling heroes children grew up idolizing, hoping someday to be among those elite group of supermen brawling on the television. There was Gustov the giant, Walt the Wrecker, Griff the Great White . . . and now Crush Rush!” All of them part of the great legacy that was the AWF Championship.

            Crush again stretched in front of the mirror as he loosened his large body. There were certainly wrestlers larger than him on the roster, but his skill, athleticism, strength and determination all led to his record breaking 12-month long reign as the World Heavyweight Champion of the Animal Wrestling Federation. From there, life changed drastically as he emerged from being just another successful champion to legend within a year. Twelve times he successfully defended his championship. His match with Hogwash would surely be his thirteenth. After all, Hogwash was the one he defeated for the championship in the first place. That’s not to say he was in for an easy win. Hogwash would give him a beating before going down, throwing his weight at him every chance he’d get. Crush knew by the end of the night, he would be sore, but once again victorious.

            Indeed, the stars were aligned! He was ready! Save for one thing. . .

            Crush heard the door to his personal locker room click open revealing a most welcoming sight. Once again, Christy, the blonde-haired beauty, love of his life, had managed to be there before his match. She was wearing a pink and blue flowery dress. Golden earrings dangled from her ears. Her makeup was picture perfect, so much so one would be forgiven for believing she was a model rather than a nurse.
“Hey there, champion,” she greeted seductively.

Crush briefly closed his eyes, flicking his tongue as he took in the flowery perfume which graced her. “Hello, beautiful!” he exclaimed. The two embraced in a hug, exchanging a kiss on the lips.

He felt her green lizard fingers run over his iguana spines. “Crush, your spines are a mess again!” scolded Christy.

Crush chuckled. “It’s a barbaric wrestling match, baby. No one gives a crap about my spines.”

“Sit down!” ordered Christy motioning toward a chair.

Crush grinned as he reluctantly complied with his female companion’s wishes. He watched as Christy grabbed a brush from her purse and began combing them back. He closed his eyes and smiled peacefully as he felt the brush soothingly move through his spines, combing them neatly back.

“You know they ain’t gonna stay that way,” he pointed out with a smirk.

“I know,” replied Christy. “But if I’m going to continue walking you to the ring, you’re at least going to have neatly groomed spines.”

“So I see,” said Crush with a wink. Even though he took pleasure in teasing his girlfriend over act of vanity, he personally loved it. The brushing had become a relaxing ritual before his matches where he would be groomed and brushed just as though he were a boy, once again, with his mother. It was a welcome diversion from the sport where he would face an opponent intent on destroying his body.

            “There!” declared Christy in satisfaction. “Now you actually look like a champion.”

            Crush kissed the side of Christy’s face. “Thanks a million, baby! Now to beat some manners into pork chops!”

            Christy frowned showing her displeasure over this statement. “Crush, don’t be too hard on him. I know these flame wars are a part of what you wrestlers do, don’t get more caught up in it than you need to.”

            Crush burst into laughter. “Baby, it’s all in ‘the name of the game! I’m paid to fight punks like Pork Chops! That goes for the mic as well as with my fist. We’re not paid to be nice to one another, yah know?”

            Christy sighed. “Yeah, I know. . .”

            Crush tilted his head as he eyed his girlfriend. He could tell she had something she wanted to say but was hesitant to say it.

Illustration drawn by Bluepisces97

Thanks for reading!

War of the Wrestlers: The First War Part 2

Description

Crush Rush bounced up and down like a boxer, breathing heavily as he grunted with every punch fired to the air. He was calm, yet focused, feeling the transformation of himself from his normal everyday demeanor to a fighting machine. His trademark red briefs along with matching red arm and knee pads were the only form of clothing over his bare, green scaled body. Crush ceased his warmup, to stretch his arms and flex. A proud smile curled on the side of his face as he admired the exceptional shape, he had managed to bring his body in, over the course of his wrestling career. Many years of discipline and training had brought his body from being merely athletic to an ‘all-out tank built for war.’

            Crush draped his prized AWF belt over his shoulder, serving as the trophy of his success.

          Crush draped his prized AWF belt over his shoulder, serving as the trophy of his success. It still was surreal for him to stop and reflect on that he had finally joined the ranks of one of those wrestling heroes children grew up idolizing, hoping someday to be among those elite group of supermen brawling on the television. There was Gustov the giant, Walt the Wrecker, Griff the Great White . . . and now Crush Rush!” All of them part of the great legacy that was the AWF Championship.

            Crush again stretched in front of the mirror as he loosened his large body. There were certainly wrestlers larger than him on the roster, but his skill, athleticism, strength and determination all led to his record breaking 12-month long reign as the World Heavyweight Champion of the Animal Wrestling Federation. From there, life changed drastically as he emerged from being just another successful champion to legend within a year. Twelve times he successfully defended his championship. His match with Hogwash would surely be his thirteenth. After all, Hogwash was the one he defeated for the championship in the first place. That’s not to say he was in for an easy win. Hogwash would give him a beating before going down, throwing his weight at him every chance he’d get. Crush knew by the end of the night, he would be sore, but once again victorious.

            Indeed, the stars were aligned! He was ready! Save for one thing. . .

            Crush heard the door to his personal locker room click open revealing a most welcoming sight. Once again, Christy, the blonde-haired beauty, love of his life, had managed to be there before his match. She was wearing a pink and blue flowery dress. Golden earrings dangled from her ears. Her makeup was picture perfect, so much so one would be forgiven for believing she was a model rather than a nurse.
“Hey there, champion,” she greeted seductively.

Crush briefly closed his eyes, flicking his tongue as he took in the flowery perfume which graced her. “Hello, beautiful!” he exclaimed. The two embraced in a hug, exchanging a kiss on the lips.

He felt her green lizard fingers run over his iguana spines. “Crush, your spines are a mess again!” scolded Christy.

Crush chuckled. “It’s a barbaric wrestling match, baby. No one gives a crap about my spines.”

“Sit down!” ordered Christy motioning toward a chair.

Crush grinned as he reluctantly complied with his female companion’s wishes. He watched as Christy grabbed a brush from her purse and began combing them back. He closed his eyes and smiled peacefully as he felt the brush soothingly move through his spines, combing them neatly back.

“You know they ain’t gonna stay that way,” he pointed out with a smirk.

“I know,” replied Christy. “But if I’m going to continue walking you to the ring, you’re at least going to have neatly groomed spines.”

“So I see,” said Crush with a wink. Even though he took pleasure in teasing his girlfriend over act of vanity, he personally loved it. The brushing had become a relaxing ritual before his matches where he would be groomed and brushed just as though he were a boy, once again, with his mother. It was a welcome diversion from the sport where he would face an opponent intent on destroying his body.

            “There!” declared Christy in satisfaction. “Now you actually look like a champion.”

            Crush kissed the side of Christy’s face. “Thanks a million, baby! Now to beat some manners into pork chops!”

            Christy frowned showing her displeasure over this statement. “Crush, don’t be too hard on him. I know these flame wars are a part of what you wrestlers do, don’t get more caught up in it than you need to.”

            Crush burst into laughter. “Baby, it’s all in ‘the name of the game! I’m paid to fight punks like Pork Chops! That goes for the mic as well as with my fist. We’re not paid to be nice to one another, yah know?”

            Christy sighed. “Yeah, I know. . .”

            Crush tilted his head as he eyed his girlfriend. He could tell she had something she wanted to say but was hesitant to say it.

Illustration drawn by Bluepisces97

Thanks for reading!

War of the Wrestlers: The First War Part 2