Chairshot: A Love Story Day 1

All copyrights belong to Victor Rodgers


Foreword by Matt D
Imagine being a young mid-card wrestler on national television  in the late 90s.

The down period was over. The second boom period of the post-territory
era had begun. Business was huge. Wrestling was mainstream. Things were extreme. It was the Attitude Era, an era of excess. Crash TV ruled. So much of the previous top-card talent was gone and for a moment the glass ceiling seemed to maybe, just maybe be missing. You may have been working hard

and fast with big bumps and lots of shots from plunder, but things were booming and hope was eternal.

That in itself would probably make for a good story. Here's the twist
though, the hook that makes it really different: What if it all was
real? Not kayfabe real. Not half real. Not wink-wink real. It's
generally how wrestling was dealt with in outside entertainment all
the way up to the late 80s, whether it's ...All the Marbles or No
Holds Barred or Body Slam. The opening of the industry has made such a
venture completely counter-intuitive now. It just doesn't cross
people's minds. That's what makes Chairshot so unique a project. Not
only does it attempt to examine (albeit with names changed and
characterizations shifted) an interesting, visceral era that's now
more than ten years distant, it does so from a completely new

perspective. It forces the insanity of Crash TV era Monday Night Wars into a
logical, human framework. Within the confines of the story everything
has to make sense no matter how nonsensical the source material.

The end result is a noble experiment full of fun characters. Vic put
together an entire world, really, a universe with its own history and
logic. So root along with the Overdog as he tries to survive in this
crazy world of hyperreal depravity, adversity and opportunity.






Chapter 1
It was Tuesday Night which meant it was time for R*PPED. Most of the time I don't make the main TV show. Wait I need to back up here. My name is Greg Richards. At least that was the name I was born with, now I'm known as the Overdog. I'm a pro wrestler and not a very successful one. But at least I work for the biggest wrestling promotion in the world. I don't win too often but I always try. I was actually a state champion in my weight class in high school. I could of gone to college but my dream was to wrestle professionally. Had been since I watched Sergent Sargent wrestle the One Man Army at a armory in 1992. Sure they had a more famous feud in the 80s but here I was watching them live. One Man Army threw Sarge right on top of me. I even got Sarge's blood on me. I never washed that shirt again.

Okay now where was I? It was R*PPED. Believe it or not I was always on the card til the owner or his kids changed it to mess with the champ. I got to wrestle the 7ft9 650 pound Monolith once. But that was the owner giving Monolith a night off. Still felt good to hear him refer to me as a top contender even if he didn't mean it. I could of beat him if I had nailed my Overkiller or OverBulldog. I shot in for the take down and he kneed me in the face. I swear to god I thought my face caved in. Well that's how it felt when I regained consciousness. One of the fellas told me later he giant swung me into the turnbuckle like a click clack.

Tonight I was suppose to wrestle Planetary Champ Ike Simmons but the boss changed it to Ike Simmons vs Burnward and his brother the Embalmer. The revised list said I was wrestling in a battle royal for a shot at the West Coast Heritage championship at the pay per view. I can't believe it, I have not been this close to a title since Ike Simmons did the Ike Breaker on my jaw. The promotion would not pay for dental surgery. I had to borrow money from my girlfriend Janet's mother while not revealing I'm the Overdog.

You are probably wondering how a five foot seven 145 pound athletic but unimposing guy like me got signed to the biggest wrestling promotion in the world, Well I had been wrestling a few years and I would work at the TV tapings. I usually got my brains beat in. I really thought my amateur skills would help me more. I was wrestling this chubby older wrestler. Really great in his day but I thought I really had a shot. Well I try to take him down and he thumbs me in the eye. I'm disoriented and he hits a jab and another and another. I can't see straight and he starts dancing right when I'm about to recover when he elbows me right on top of the head. I hit the mat like a bag of potatoes. Then before I can recover he drops the biggest elbow I ever felt right in my ribs.

This time I was wrestling a guy called Lightning Ball. Wore these green and blue tights. He is hitting me with these sloppy looking forearms that still hurt like the dickens. I dunno what made that day different but I was determined not to lose. He goes to powerbomb me but I reverse it into a hurracanrana. I start throwing a buncha forearms. I'm trying to bash his head in. I go and hit a flying dropkick and follow it up with a bulldog headlock. The fans are really excited and I think I'm going to win. But he kicked out at two and hit me with the ballbuster and won the match.

Despite being cheered by some kids I felt really bad. Partly from the ballbuster and partly from losing again. It stinks knowing you have to go home and tell your mom you're a loser. But as I go behind the curtain the owner is standing there with a giant smile. He tells me to come in for a meeting Monday at Monolith Tower.

I get up there and he explains to me how I'm the American dream, a scrawny nobody who has a lot of fight. But the under dog is played out (I heard a legal guy say it is too hard to trademark.) that I'm going to be the Overdog the super hero underdog. He shows me this costume its dark orange, black and white. The mask looks like a dogs face. But the bulldog symbol on the shirt is pretty cool. He says the kids are going to love me and I'm signed to a contract. I don't care what I'm going to be, I am on top of the world. He tells me to come back on the first Tuesday of the following month.

I show up with my full costume. I look for the owner but I see him talking to a Chinese guy in a silk rat mask. Seems like he forgot I even existed.

So that is how I got here. I work the B, C and mostly D shows, Try my best to win and get paid a modest income. But tonight I was going to enter the big time. I was going to win that shot at Royal Flush and be the West Coast Heritage Champion.