He sank back into the seat with a heavy sigh. “Now that was something. I went looking for a new star and ended up with a month-long show for some strange creature. What a mess.”
The agent smiled with a serpentine grin. “I’m sure it will make you plenty of money.”
“The money ain’t the only point… though it’s part of it. I need a star — someone who can take the throne away from A.W.W. I thought I had a real contender, but it fell flat. I don’t even know if this will make money. Who knows? I’ve never done anything like this before.” He pulled out another cigar and clipped the end.
The agent leaned forward. “I have a suggestion that might make you happy about this.”
Zeus lit the cigar with a massive lighter. “What would that be?”
“Champions will come from each venue after competing for the chance to reach A.W.W. HQ and prove themselves worthy to the Avatar.”
Zeus puffed out a thick cloud of smoke. “Yup, that’s the gist of it.”
“We need to provide the champion who will win,” the agent continued. “Find our contender, make sure he takes the challenge and comes out on top. Then you won’t just own the competition — you’ll have the person with the power of that Avatar in your back pocket. He’ll already be famous for winning, and then he’ll be famous as the Oracle of Strength.”
Zeus’s smile widened around the cigar. “The Oracle of Strength, the star of Confederate Brawlers. And with that kind of power, we could expand beyond pro-wrestling. Real ultimate fighting — blood and guts matches that A.W.W. would never allow. I love it.”
The agent picked up his phone and scrolled through files. “I have some people in mind who might be a perfect match. We’ll just need to make sure they win enough to reach the finals.”
“Do what you gotta do, boy. I want this.”
“Trust me,” the agent said with a wicked smile. “It will be done.”
Gar and EB were still in Robert Layton’s office after the others had left. Robert was already working on plans to repurpose his venues for the next month.
“Are you sure?” Robert asked.
Gar nodded. “I am. It was a confusing time, and I don’t understand it well. I also have a lot of work waiting for me with BADGE.”
Robert shrugged. “Well, if you ever feel like coming back for a match now and then, we can make it happen.”
EB hopped up onto the desk. “I’ll try to convince him. It would be so cool if we returned for some celebrity matches. The Mighty Stone Dragon — working title — returns to the ring for one night only! His trusty manager, EB, at his side. I would love it!”
A woman opened the door, looking exasperated. “That lion guy is wrecking the place.”
“What now?” Robert stood quickly. “Can you two come help? I have no idea how to handle this creature.”
“We can try,” Gar said. He followed with EB bouncing behind him.
They walked into the now-empty arena. The evening’s televised matches were long over, but loud crashing and grunting echoed through the space.
The woman explained as they walked, “He sat in your box seat the whole event, watching quietly. When everyone left, he stayed behind and started rearranging things.”
Robert was about to ask what she meant when they stepped into view. The Avatar was ripping up seats and breaking them apart, using the pieces to build a massive chair in the center of the stadium seating. He tore metal bars free and bent them with his bare fists.
“What is he doing?” Robert lamented.
EB tilted his head. “Looks like he’s making himself a throne to watch the contest from.”
The Avatar bellowed without stopping his work. “That is exactly what I’m doing! Leave. This place is mine!”
Robert stepped forward. “This place is mine. I’m only allowing you to use it.”
The Avatar turned and growled. “I’m done talking. Leave.”
Gar gently took Robert’s arm. “Whatever damage he causes, BADGE will pay to fix it.”
Robert pinched the bridge of his nose. “This is insanity.”
“Don’t worry,” Gar said. “BADGE damage repair teams are fast and excellent. They’ll have this place looking perfect before you know it.”
Robert sighed. “I have sponsors to call. Mr. Gar, you can change in the locker room and head wherever you’re staying tonight. I’ll let you know if the Avatar starts any more spontaneous remodeling.”
Gar and EB walked back through the arena toward the locker room where Gar had changed earlier. He was still wearing the colorful wrestling shorts they had given him.
EB hopped along, chattering excitedly. “You are so lucky. You get to work with some of the biggest wrestling stars for the next month. I bet they’ll stick around since all the venues are shut down for this. Dante Doom might compete. Oh, and Sherri the Shredder — she’s hot and strong. You could compete too, though I don’t know if an Avatar can bond with someone made of stone.”
They entered the locker room. EB kept talking when his eyes caught someone in the far corner.
“Hey, isn’t that the dude who was on the mat with you?” EB hopped over. Mustang Pilot sat on a bench in towel after showering, head down and arms on his knees. “Hey, what are you still doing here? The place is almost empty except for a nutty lion Avatar and us.”
Mustang looked up, his eyes filled with sorrow. “Oh, hey. Sorry, I’ll leave. Didn’t realize it was so late.”
EB jumped onto the bench beside him. “Hey, you look really down. What’s wrong?”
“My big chance just got ruined. I spent the last two months applying and interviewing for this Amateur Hour. It’s not first-come, first-served, you know. And my shot got completely overshadowed by that crazy lion guy.”
“I bet we can convince Robert to give you another chance,” EB said. “This was a strange situation. Who could have guessed a big Avatar would show up and turn everything upside down? Though you wouldn’t have had much chance against my boy, The Stone Dragon — working title. Okay, maybe that’s not very encouraging. Don’t worry, Gar isn’t competing next time either.”
Mustang looked at EB. “Do you even remember me?”
“I kinda do. But I meet a lot of people these days, being a famous superhero and all.”
“We only met once. I spent more time with Gargoyle. That was two years ago. I probably didn’t make much of an impression. Seems to be my lot in life, no matter how hard I try.”
EB frowned. “Two years ago? You met both of us? Wait — were you on the station?”
“Yes.” Mustang looked surprised. “I tried out for the BADGE hero training program. My name is Jordan Moore. I failed the test… and here I am.”
“Oh, right. Jordan. Yeah, I remember now. Strong guy. But… uh… not strong enough.”
Jordan asked, “How do you remember me so well? I was only there for two days.”
“I’ve got a memory like a steel trap… most days. I remember you were a nice guy. A lot of people who come to test are arrogant because they have powers.”
“Thanks. I wish my powers were better. I’m just kinda strong and super agile. That’s it. But people don’t like hiring anyone with morphonic powers. They’re always worried I might be dangerous. I have to answer the same questions over and over: Why aren’t you in a league? Did you attend BADGE? What villains have you fought? Every time I have to explain that I’m not very powerful. This was supposed to be my chance. A.W.W. doesn’t mind mildly powered people as long as we don’t seriously hurt anyone. I could have made a real career here and used my powers for something better than washing windows.”
EB nodded sympathetically. “Yeah, it sucks trying to live a normal life when you have powers. Nova has been pushing the UN to change the laws about how powered people are treated, but they’re all talk and no action.”
Jordan unwrapped his towel and pulled on his leggings again. “Until they do something, I’m stuck with random delivery gigs and mowing lawns.”
“I’ll talk to Nova about pushing the UN harder,” EB promised. “And hey, don’t worry. This contest will be over sooner than you think, and you can try out again.”
Jordan gave a tired smile. “Maybe. They probably already have the next Amateur Night roster lined up. It’ll take another year for me to get another shot. Good seeing you again. Say hi to Gar for me.” He walked out.
