Introduction
After I finished Savage Sports Stories in January. I still had ideas for various characters in the Overdog world but no big idea for a story. One idea was giving an origin for the Omeniac. Unlike Chairshot or Savage Sports Stories, each entry in Day of the Omeniac will be self contained. Hope you enjoy it.
Day of the Omeniac
Written by Victor Rodgers
Another busy day at the office. Well that is not true. Enrollement has slowed down greatly. I have not been on tv in a long time. Wrestling promoters are not to be trusted. Far too often they expect to pick the pockets of those who produce.
"Mr.Gordon?"
"......"
"I'm sorry sir, I mean Omeniac."
"Yes what is it Mrs.Carridale?"
"The clothing manufacturer is on line 2. He wants to make good on the misprinted sweat shirts."
"Very good Mrs.Carridale,"
Oh the drudgery of this. I am not meant to be a businessman. I am meant to be a soldier, a fighter, a warrior. At the very least I should be a teacher. But the longer I am not on television the lower enrollment gets. I had hoped some of my graduates would have gotten to WAVE or W*RE to help spread the word. Instead the best have ended up in a place called the Combat Collective. I suspect this Wyles character only signed them in the hopes of getting me to compete there.
It has been so long since I have competed I fear I am losing my connection to the Word. I have grown out my hair and only wear the paint on special occasions. I still remember when I first learned of my destiny to become the Omeniac.
It was 1986 and I had just been signed to WAVE. I was not yet the Omeniac. I was a professional wrestler named the Americommander. I was very patriotic at the time. I dressed like Uncle Sam in a star spangled wrestling singlet. Before I realized such things were blasphemy.
I was so young and enthusiastic. A man named Johansen signed me. I got to the arena for the tv taping excited for competition. I could not find out who I was competing against until I was in the ring. I saw a man about my height with an excellent build standing in the ring. He had a blond flat top with a red stripe down the middle. His name was Flash Dansan.
I assumed he was to be my opponent but the referee told me he was my partner. Partner? I was never told I would be in a tag team match. But I was wrong for it was no mere tag team we were to face but....
"Hailing from Olympus at a weight of 500 pounds Tyranos the Titan!!!!!!!"
Never before or since was I to experience a fear of that magnitude. I had seen what he had done to other competitors. Why just a month before I watched a video cassette of him pinning Ransom Fortune in a tag team match. He had a full white beard and fierce mane of hair like I imagine Odin himself to possess. He was a good foot taller than me and and I am no small man. His every footstep put more fear into my heart.
"Hey buddy listen up. We need to attack Tyranos while he is stepping over the top rope. It's our only chance."
While ambushing an enemy was a violation of my code I knew Flash was correct. As Tyranos stepped over the top rope we attacked. We swarmed him with punches, axe handles and chops. It appeared our plan was working until he knocked Flash unconscious with a single headbutt and heaved him over the top rope with ease.
My heart filled with terror but I used my fear to drive me. I charged toward him at full speed only to run into his size 30 boot.
I then went temporarily blind after seeing a brilliant light. I then heard an alien voice.
"OMENIAC!!!!!!!!"
"I I am just the AmeriCommander......"
"YOU ARE NOT!!!!!!! YOU COVER YOURSELF IN FALSE IDOLS!!!!!! YOU ARE THE OMENIAC!!!!!!!"
"m,,,,my real name is Hank Gordon."
"YOU ARE THE OMENIAC!!!! SEE MY TRUE FACE AND KNOW THIS TO BE THE TRUTH!!!!!!!!!!"
As he said this my vision returned to me. I could not believe my newly restored sight. I saw a golden deity a million times larger than Tyranos. He had thousands of tentacles and arms. Arms larger and more developed than even Ransom Fortune could dream to have. He had four heads. One a fairly normal but stern man, the other an Indian madman, a blond narcissist and a rough looking Italian.
It pained me to look at them as I knew I was unworthy.
"I AM THE OMENIAC!!! WHAT IS IT YOU ASK OF ME??"
"YOU ARE TO TEACH MY WORD TO HUMANITY!!!! SOME BY EXAMPLE!!!! OTHERS THRU BRUTALITY!!!! GIVE MY WORD TO THESE PROFESSIONAL WRESTLERS!!!!! BECOME THEIR CHAMPION OF CHAMPIONS!!!! THIS I COMMAND OMENIAC!!!!!!!"
I woke up in the locker room a bloody pulp. I looked in the mirror and saw my blood had smeared into the symbol The being had cast upon me. From that dsy forward I was the Omeniac.
"Mr.Gordon um I mean Omeniac there is a Jerome Johansen waiting to see you."
"Send him in."
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