Post by davidtroy on Nov 4, 2018 23:52:40 GMT -5
“The transition back to wrestling in Japan has been a bit of an ordeal,” he spoke, in Japanese to his partner on the other end of the line.
“I heard you were pretty decent in your first match, big guy,” came from the other line, “don’t be so hard on yourself. You might not have Dante over there hollering advice to you from ringside anymore, but I know you have a good mind for the game.”
“Perhaps, perhaps,” Mushigihara sighed, “but I fully intend to make an impact over the remainder of this tour. It’s not like I can exactly coast on sumo glory or anything.”
He was right. Mushigihara was once a sumo wrestler, but injuries kept him from breaking through into the prestigious makuuchi division. He had left in the start of the string of scandals that rocked the sport over the past decade; not because of any actions of his own, but because many wrestlers within his own heya were indicted, and he knew that he would be expected to be a fall guy. He had managed to escape from the whole mess relatively unscathed though, and here he was, 150 pounds lighter, and back in his homeland.
“Well, you won’t need it. I have faith in you, God-Beast.”
“Thank you,” Mushi replied, “I’m pondering scouting some of the talent in the dojo here. Perhaps they may be of aid to us elsewhere?”
“Why not. Dante took a chance on you, and I always knew you wanted to pay it forward somehow. Anyway, I’m being called over for something. See you in Canada. Can you believe you’re fighting the old boss’ SON?”
Mushi couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Yes, but that is a discussion for another day. Alright. Talk to you later. OSU.”
Even when conversing in his mother tongue he couldn’t resist sneaking that catchphrase into his speech.
“Osu.”
Click.
Eiichiro Yamazaki put his mobile phone in his pocket and smiled as he watched the sun rise on a beautiful autumn morning.
—————————————
“OSU!!!”
The booming war cry prompts the cold open.
We see, before us, a mammoth of a human being. Tall, thick, and lookin’ for an ass to kick, the Japanese juggernaut smiles as he clasps his hands.
“I’ve been waiting some time to finally have a proper interview. My English has never been very good, and I have spent most of my career anymore in North America, so this is a very RARE opportunity for me.
“My name is Mushigihara. I have worn that name in honor since I wrestled, not in the squared circle, but in the clay dohyo of sumo.
“Not that it matters now; I have arrived in Maximum Japan Pro Wrestling. Not just as an envoy of David Troy, but also of my own accord, to prove to my homeland that I am fit to wrestle here. It has not been easy, and I have Toyama-san to thank for his efforts in our tag team match together… but now is when I start to shift gears and take the Three Kingdoms Tour by storm. IKUZO!”
The Kamikemono chuckles in delight.
“It’s time, Maximum Japan. I was only getting warmed up, but now you will see exactly why I am known as the God-Beast.
“OSU!!!”
With a mighty roar and a little flex, the monster stares daggers at us as we fade to black.
“I heard you were pretty decent in your first match, big guy,” came from the other line, “don’t be so hard on yourself. You might not have Dante over there hollering advice to you from ringside anymore, but I know you have a good mind for the game.”
“Perhaps, perhaps,” Mushigihara sighed, “but I fully intend to make an impact over the remainder of this tour. It’s not like I can exactly coast on sumo glory or anything.”
He was right. Mushigihara was once a sumo wrestler, but injuries kept him from breaking through into the prestigious makuuchi division. He had left in the start of the string of scandals that rocked the sport over the past decade; not because of any actions of his own, but because many wrestlers within his own heya were indicted, and he knew that he would be expected to be a fall guy. He had managed to escape from the whole mess relatively unscathed though, and here he was, 150 pounds lighter, and back in his homeland.
“Well, you won’t need it. I have faith in you, God-Beast.”
“Thank you,” Mushi replied, “I’m pondering scouting some of the talent in the dojo here. Perhaps they may be of aid to us elsewhere?”
“Why not. Dante took a chance on you, and I always knew you wanted to pay it forward somehow. Anyway, I’m being called over for something. See you in Canada. Can you believe you’re fighting the old boss’ SON?”
Mushi couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Yes, but that is a discussion for another day. Alright. Talk to you later. OSU.”
Even when conversing in his mother tongue he couldn’t resist sneaking that catchphrase into his speech.
“Osu.”
Click.
Eiichiro Yamazaki put his mobile phone in his pocket and smiled as he watched the sun rise on a beautiful autumn morning.
—————————————
“OSU!!!”
The booming war cry prompts the cold open.
We see, before us, a mammoth of a human being. Tall, thick, and lookin’ for an ass to kick, the Japanese juggernaut smiles as he clasps his hands.
“I’ve been waiting some time to finally have a proper interview. My English has never been very good, and I have spent most of my career anymore in North America, so this is a very RARE opportunity for me.
“My name is Mushigihara. I have worn that name in honor since I wrestled, not in the squared circle, but in the clay dohyo of sumo.
“Not that it matters now; I have arrived in Maximum Japan Pro Wrestling. Not just as an envoy of David Troy, but also of my own accord, to prove to my homeland that I am fit to wrestle here. It has not been easy, and I have Toyama-san to thank for his efforts in our tag team match together… but now is when I start to shift gears and take the Three Kingdoms Tour by storm. IKUZO!”
The Kamikemono chuckles in delight.
“It’s time, Maximum Japan. I was only getting warmed up, but now you will see exactly why I am known as the God-Beast.
“OSU!!!”
With a mighty roar and a little flex, the monster stares daggers at us as we fade to black.