Ella Schlitzel anxiously stood in the Goiania International Airport next to her attache, Paolo, who held up the sign. A man she greatly admired yet never laid eyes upon before would walk through the crowd and approach her. She had spent the last twelve years preparing for this assignment. To be trusted enough to pick up the infiltrator known as….the Dark Asp (or Dunkle Rapfen in Germany, Aspic Sombre in France, or Temnyy Aspid in Russia).
The High Council questioned whether a woman, albeit a dedicated and loyal woman, could be trusted with such an assignment. After all, the Dark Asp had spent the last twenty years in the United States, deep undercover, sowing the seeds of chaos and discord throughout that nation of capitalist interlopers in an effort to protect the anonymity of the Rising Eagle. The way he brought down Hollywood several years ago was a stroke of brilliance. The Dark Asp brought down banks, destroyed countless lives, incited riots and political uprisings all in the name of the Rising Eagle.
As much as she knew about the man’s exploits, there was very little detail about the man. But, as logic would dictate, the less you know about him, the more effective an infiltrator he would be. She knew he was highly paranoid, preferring to discuss matters relating to his mission via codewords. His appearance, as described, was quite appealing to her, a man around six feet tall, blonde hair, a scar on his cheek, and a tendency to be rather flamboyant as far as his choice in clothing. Most attractive was his tolerance for pain, she was told he could feel nothing, he was an automaton, single-minded of purpose. She heard the stories. She wanted him. But she knew she could not have him…..
…..she was not perfect in his eyes nor in the eyes of the High Council….she was a quarter Brazilian (and, deep down, she hated herself because of it) and thus her blood was “impure”….she was deemed too flawed for a man such as the Dark Asp, or as she put it “Not European enough”. The fact that she was given an assignment of this importance, to bring him to the ritual that would begin his ascent to singular power, was a miracle in and of itself. But her grandfather was on the High Council until his death in 2001 at the ripe old age of ninety-one. The High Council always respected the lineage.
The one that was bred (both parents were descendants of two members of the High Council dating back to 1842) and groomed to be his mate was waiting for him in his room at the villa. An image of beauty and perfection….Ingrid….her Rising Eagle bloodline meshing together with his to create their future High Chancellor, a position held by those with the blood of the original founders. The High Council believed him to be the one prophesied to bring about the fiery deaths of the uninitiated.
Then she saw him. A blonde scarred man walking through the crowd wearing a red and black checkered suit and rather large gold belt over his shoulder. That seemed a little too dramatic, perhaps she was mistaken? But, what greater misdirect for man who must live in shadows to stand out rather absurdly? It was him. The scar gave him away. She would deliver him to the Elders as instructed and the next stage in the rise of the Dark Alliance of the Rising Eagle will begin.
She pointed at Paolo who raised the sign higher…..
Jatt Starr fought his way through the crowded airport, his ears still clogged from the flight. He shoved his pinky in his ear as he opened and closed his mouth hoping they would pop. He popped a piece of spearmint gum into his mouth, irritated. Part of him felt a sense of confidence that he was partnered with Mike Best, the ICON Champion, a man whose ego refused to accept failure. But there was part of him that hated it, Mike Best was at odds with his stepson, Conor Fuse. Mike Best was an insufferable douchebag. There was not a whole heck to like about him. But, at the end of the day, it did not matter what the Baron of Boca Jatton felt, he was a soldier in the Lee Best Army and he would do what he was told.
Or maybe he was just tired after the long flight.
The Mayor of ManJattan noticed an impossibly beautiful woman with long brown hair with a blond streak smiling at him. She wore a tight black double breasted business suit that did not hide her shape. She looked to be in her early thirties, her blue eyes stared at him as he passed.
ELLA: Herr Spiro?
The Ruler of Jattlantis turned and looked at the attractive younger woman who had the biggest, brightest, and warmest smile he had ever seen. He almost stammered as he responded but he was able to maintain his composure.
JATT STARR: Me?
ELLA: You are Herr Spiro, ya? Mister Spiro?
JATT STARR: You mean “Sparrow”?
The Marquis of MadagaStarr looked at the sign that read “S. SPIRO” and came to two conclusions. When the pick up arrangements were made, the service wrote the name down wrong or maybe misheard the last name or the person who made the arrangements, likely Lee as he always hated the “Simon Sparrow” name, purposely misspelled the name just to mess with the Starrabian Knight. Perhaps it also could have been Mike Best, someone who never cared nor took the time to learn the Starrson City Icon’s given name and took a guess.
JATT STARR: Close enough.
ELLA: Sigmund Spiro, willkommen in Brasilien.
JATT STARR: Uh…what?
ELLA: Willkommen in Brasilien?
The Hero of Jattlanta looks quizzically at Ella. From within his suit jacket he retrieved a Portuguese-to-English dictionary and began to flip through. Ella looked over towards Paolo and then back at Jatt Starr who was running down each page with his index finger.
JATT STARR: Me no speak-a the Portuguese-o.
ELLA: Herr Spiro, sprechen sie Deutsch?
JATT STARR: Oh! You speak Dutch! I did not bring that dictionary.
ELLA: Have you forgotten your German?
JATT STARR: I didn’t know I was supposed to bring him with me.
The Grand Overlord of Jatturn deadpanned the bad joke, watching the confusion on the faces of Ella and her larger and muscular blonde fellow with the crewcut. Finally, he bursted out laughing. Ella then began laughing a melodious laugh with him and caressed his arm.
ELLA: You’ve been kidding vith me, ya?
JATT STARR: Just a little joke.
Ella motions for her towering “freund’ to take the Thane of Starrkarth’s duffel bag. Ella and Jatt follow Bruno through the airport.
ELLA: Ve are very happy to have you here.
JATT STARR: Thank you.
ELLA: My name is Ella. I am to escort to the villa.
JATT STARR: A villa? Nice.
ELLA: I hope I am not being too forward but….I am a big fan of your verk.
JATT STARR: Flattery will get you everywhere.
ELLA: Vhat you did on behalf of the Alliance, it is vell known. Like vhat you have done to Hollyvood.
JATT STARR: That was quite some time ago when I valiantly stared down that vile pit of bat poop, and yet, Hollywood is still around.
ELLA: But the message vas sent, ya?
JATT STARR: Not loud enough, apparently.
ELLA: But you vere regarded as a hero. The Hollyvood vultures vere close to exposing the Alliance before you vent on the attack.
JATT STARR: There was nothing to worry about. Hollywood exudes a level superficiality and false bravado to cover insecurities and a teeny weenie. The only thing that comes out of Hollywood that you can trust is just shit and spit, everything else is nothing but self-serving, misogynistic, greedy, scumbaggery douche speak.
ELLA: Spreading lies!
JATT STARR: And numerous STD’s.
Ella spat on the ground, allowing her disgust to overwhelm her. This caused the Champion of Jattanooga to chuckle. It both amused and satisfied him to watch someone with more contempt for Brian Hollywood than him, so much so, he had to vocalize it.
JATT STARR: Geez! You hate Hollywood more than I do!
ELLA: Hollywood destroys lives! Capitalist trash! How many lives has Hollywood media cost?
JATT STARR: Well, I know if you play a Hollywood match in a room with a coma patient, that cometose dude flatlines.
ELLA: Hollywood Match? Like game show?
JATT STARR: Never watch them.
Ella stopped and clutched Jatt Starr’s arm, stopping him. She pulled him close. Jatt caught the aroma of her perfume, a mixture of mango, grapefruit, iris, amber, heliotrope, and karo karounde (not that he actually knew what some of those items actually smelled like). It was almost calming yet arousing at the same time. He could not help comment through his gum chewing.
ELLA: Are you speaking in code?
JATT STARR: You smell really good.
ELLA: Thank you, I have to admit….
JATT STARR: You’re really, uh, really beautiful.
ELLA: …I, uh, you….too….
Ella’s face turned a beat red and she looked away, embarrassed that she allowed her emotion to overtake her better judgment. “You….too”???? How could she say such a thing to the future High Chancellor?!
JATT STARR: On a scale from one to ten, I am an eleven.
ELLA: And modest?
JATT STARR: Is that a joke? Did you make a joke?
ELLA: Come! Come, ve will talk more in the car.
They continued through the airport and strapped outside. The brightness of the sun hit the Ruler of Jattlantis suddenly and he squinted. Several raggedly dressed people, some older, some younger, accosted the trio seeking some real. As his eyes began to adjust, he did not notice the German-Brazilian beauty stop and turn around in front of him and he walked into her. Their lips inadvertently touched, the moment became awkward. Did she plan that? Of course she is one of the thousands upon thousands of women desperate to ride the Starrlite Sexpress, but could she have plotted that moment to perfection?
ELLA: I am—
JATT STARR: That was—
ELLA: —so sorry.
JATT STARR: —clearly not intended.
ELLA: No, it’s…
JATT STARR: Fine.
ELLA: No, you’re—
JATT STARR: Okay. It was an accident.
Ella and Jatt Starr stood in silence for a moment. It wasn’t until Jatt Starr noticed the chariot that was waiting for them. The car was, in fact, an SUV stretch limo with three armed guards – armed with assault rifles.
JATT STARR: Whoa! Lee went all out, didn’t he?
The Duke of Jattmandu continued to ogle at the SUV limo more than he would at an attractive woman on a Brazilian nude beach knowing he would be physically escorted off the premises. Ella had zoned out, clearly not listening to the Jattinum Standard.
JATT STARR: This is the treatment befitting a Co-World Champion! Of course, it’s probably because I’m teaming with Mike. In Lee we Trust, right?
Jatt Starr turned toward Ella, who was staring off, not paying attention to word he had been saying. A twinge of concern came aross him and he waved a hand in front of her face. She jerked awake from whatever fantasy, dream, or anxiety fueled internal self-dialogue she lost herself in.
JATT STARR: This is for me?
ELLA: Ya. Of course. Shall ve?
JATT STARR: Ve shall!
Paolo, Jatt’s duffel bag over his shoulder, opened the rear door. Jatt Starr started to enter the limo but stopped himself much to the surprise of Ella. He
ELLA: Is there something wrong?
JATT STARR: Just one sec.
The Earl of GlouStarr ran towards a rather emaciated young lad. He looked up at Jatt with agonizingly sad puppy dog eyes.
JATT STARR: Here you go, kid. Enjoy.
The Savior of Starrkham removed the gum from his mouth and placed it in the grimy hand of the young street urchin who looked at it with a repulsed curiosity as Jatt Starr returned to the limo. As he entered the limousine, Paolo closed the door behind him. Ella patted the seat next to her. The Ruler of Jattlantis placed the PWA Tag Team Championship on the seat closest to the door and sidled up next to Ella.
JATT STARR: This is exactly the accommodation that should be afforded on a regular basis for the Chancellor of Starrca—MMMPH!
Ella lunged at the Jattlantic City Idol and proceeded to shove her tongue down his gullet. He was left with no other option but to reciprocate. It was the only polite thing to do. Had he shoved her off of him, she would have been humiliated! But he knew he would need to end it properly as soon as the appropriate amount of time passed. He figured thirty seconds was ample time. But, he made the mistake of getting lost in the moment. Ella was scorchingly hot and a great kisser. He pulled free.
JATT STARR: We can’t do this.
ELLA: I know. There is somevon else. Your betrothed.
JATT STARR: I’m the best thing that’s ever happened to her.
ELLA: Her entire life she was being groomed to be yours. I know this. But I cannot help how I feel ever since I heard vhat you did in Chicago a couple of years ago. When you got that scar….vhat you sacrified….I vish it vere me that you were to….
There was hope and resignation in her voice. Jatt Starr could tell she knew there would be no ride on the Starrlite Sexpress but she was making a last ditch effort. The fact that she had been waiting for this moment since the scaffold match at ICONIC 2020 for the LSD Championship. His heart went out to her. After all, he was Jatt Freaking Starr.
JATT STARR: Ellie, baby, I get it. You see me as walking around, Co-Champion of the World, I naturally give off this magnetic sexual energy that pulls you into my orbit like a tractor beam. Don’t get me wrong, if I didn’t have someone else waiting for me, alone in our boudoir aching for the time I would walk through the door, this….you and me….fireworks, baby.
ELLA: You are just saying that.
JATT STARR: No! I mean it! You’re incredible and you seem to be kind, decent person, you have a sense of humor which is just aces in my book. And let’s not forget your impeccable taste in both suits and men.
ELLA: You are not vhat I thought you vould be. I thought you vere cold, unfeeling but knowing there is this varmth…
JATT STARR: Not a lot of people can bring this side out of me.
ELLA: I….vant so much to….
Ella’s face contorted and she began to shake. A single tear trickled down her left cheek. The man, the champion to the Alliance of the Rising Eagle, with whom she had been enamored, had admitted that she had pierced his heart like Cupid’s arrow. She could try one more time, her life of being ostracized and criticized by the Elders, those years of pain, would be worth it. But the cause came first and if it did not work, she would likely be punished should the Elders, especially Heinrich, found out. She buried her feelings deep. Meanwhile, Jatt Starr wondered what she would look like underneath that suit, feeling guilty as he did so. He quickly shifted gears and grabbed his PWC Tag Team Championship. He began to distract himself by pondering how Dan Ryan felt that the Scourge of Starrpathia was teaming with Mike Best. Would he care? Finally, Ella spoke up and pulled out her phone, she began going through it.
ELLA: I suppose you vill be vanting to know vhat is avaiting you at the villa?
JATT STARR: I could use a nice shower.
Ella handed the phone to the Ruler of Jattlantis.
JATT STARR: HO! That chick is all kinds of naked!
Ella had given Jatt Starr an image of a young blonde woman laying seductively on a plush bed in her birthday suit.
ELLA: That is Ingrid. She is vaiting for you in your room as ve speak. She is ready give herself to you.
JATT STARR: Nah, I’m good. I’m not into the whole hooker thing.
ELLA: She is your perfect match.
JATT STARR: Yeah, no, I don’t think so.
JATT STARR: I mean, she’s cute….but….eh….You’re much more attractive than this trollop.
ELLA: You surprise me, Herr Spiro.
JATT STARR: I know. I exceed all expectations.
Ella opened her mouth to say something else but Jatt Starr flung her phone onto her lap. As she picked up her phone, Jatt Starr began pressing his hand against his ear, still attempting to pop it.
JATT STARR: How much longer will it be?
ELLA: About thirty minutes.
JATT STARR: No sense in riding in silence, right?
ELLA: Vould you like to discuss the arrangements for the veekend?
JATT STARR: Chaos?
ELLA: I am referring to the blood ritual.
JATT STARR: Is that what they call it down here? I shouldn’t be surprised. Do you know what they called “Airplane!” in Australia? “Flying High?” I don’t remember a lot of pot smoking in that movie. Whatever. “Chaos”, “Blood Ritual”. However you refer to it. I guarantee you, there will be blood. In fact, and I don’t do this for just anybody, when I make Rhys Townsend submit, I will dedicate my victory to you.
ELLA: Are you speaking in code?
JATT STARR: Code?
ELLA: Ya, is Rhys Townsend code for an underprivileged community vhere you negotiated the supply of crack?
JATT STARR: The crack I’m supplying Rhys Townsend with is the type right across the head. Can you believe he had the balls to interrupt MY special moment with Lee a couple of weeks ago?
ELLA: Vhat—Vhat are you talking about? I am not understanding….
JATT STARR: Oh…you must be on some kind of delay and not get the most recent shows down here. What was the last Chaos you saw? Was it where I invited Lee as my guest on Starrgazing?
The look of confusion was unmistakable. She was attempting to make sense of everything her idol, Dunkle Rapfen, Sigmund Spiro had been saying. Had he been in deep cover for far too long? He was spouting nonsense to her. She struggled to piece it together like a five year attempting complex trigonometry equations. Erstwhile, Jatt Starr was looking at her with earnestness while attempting to curb his growing irritation towards Rhys Townsend.
JATT STARR: Whatever, you don’t need to see it to appreciate the level of violence I that I will inflict on that shaved ape’s hemorrhoid. He disrespects me! He disrespects the Alliance! He disrespects Lee! Screw him! And yeah, I get it, there are times where even I want to slap Lee around and scream “WHY MUST ALWAYS SCREW ME OVER???” Did I go cat scratch fever crazy when he forced me to give Sektor Ward’s jacket? No. I ate the shit and thanked him for the helping. But I stop myself and realize that Lee is probably limper than a wet noodle, probably caused by Kostoff. Wait, do you think Rhys thinks he could be the next Kostoff? That’s rich! He’s no Kostoff. Sure he’s more successful careerwise but he lacks that don’t-give-a-crap attitude Kostoff had. He was all about inflicting pain, breaking people, making sure they were changed. Rhys is all about his ego. If Kostoff were Coca-Cola, Rhys Townsend would be New Coke. Overly hyped but, at the end of the day, sucks.
ELLA: You are Sigmund Spiro, ya?
JATT STARR: Oh, so many names. Simon Sparrow. Jatt Starr. The Ruler of Jattlantis. The Starrabian Knight. The Chancellor of Starrcadia. The Duke of Jattmandu. The Sultan of SeaJattle, etcetera, etcetera.
ELLA: Aspic Sombre. Dunkle Rapfen. Do these names mean nothing to you?
JATT STARR (chuckling): “Dunkle”…hee hee hee…
ELLA: Vhat of Temnyy Aspid?
JATT STARR: Are they in sVo? Are they one of the tag teams competing this weekend? If so, then they better serve what I do to Hollywood and Townsend as a warning that they are—-
ELLA: Vhat do you know of the Dark Asp?
JATT STARR: I know a Black Mamba…..
ELLA: Vhy did you come to Goiania?
JATT STARR: My wrestling match against Brian Hollywood and Rhys Townsend at “Chaos”…I mean, “Blood Ritual”.
Ella’s jaw dropped and her eyes widened to the size globes upon realizing her mistake. But, how was she to know that there would be a wrestler that matched the description of Sigmund Spiro? She slapped the Ruler of Jattlantis, slapped him hard, repeatedly to the point that Jatt Starr had to grab her arms.
ELLA: I vas going to give myself to….to….YOU?
JATT STARR: Now, that is NOT….ACK!!!
Jatt did not want to harm this unbelievable stunning woman with a perfect and slightly tan complexion, full natural collagen-free lips, wide eyes, and wonderfully soothing voice with a Dutch accent he found quite arousing, but he would. So, in an effort to emphasize that she should calm down, he overly articulated “NOT”, leaving his mouth wide open, and Ella took that opportunity to spit a loogie into it and he ultimately and inadvertently swallowed and started choking on it. He threw Ella back and patted himself a couple times on the back until the gloopy piece of phlegm had become dislodged from his esophagus.
ELLA: YOU!!! YOU….PIG!!!
JATT STARR: Whoa there…(cough, cough)….Ellie-baby! Just because I rejected your advances, you don’t need to resort to namecalling….(cough)….or spitting, I thought you were classier than that.
ELLA: Fick dich!
JATT STARR: Is that more Dutch?
ELLA: Fick dich, verdammter hund!!!!
Ella became desperate and enraged, she knew if the Elders found out about this colossal screw up, she would be punished, possibly tortured. How much of the Alliance of the Rising Eagle did she share with this man? Whatever it was, it did not matter because Jatt Starr had moved closer to the door and had a pinky in his ear and mumbling to himself. Ella saw him as a complete and utter fool, oblivious to the world around him. She needed to turn around and race back to the airport and hope Sigmund Spiro had not arrived yet. She crawled to the front of the limo and banged on the divider.
JATT STARR: You need to chill out. Spit in my mouth….I should spit in your mouth, see how you like it…..
ELLA: STOPPEN!!! STOPPEN!!!!
The limo stopped and Elle shot daggers at the Thane of Starrkarth.
Jatt Starr tilted his head, questioningly. Clearly not understanding what she was saying. Ella took a more blunt approach.
ELLA: GET OUT!!!!
JATT STARR: Alright! Alright!!!! But just to be clear, I am getting the sense that Lee did not book this ride for El Jattador de Starrcelona, is that right?
JATT STARR: Okay! But you’re still hotter than the naked chick. F-Y-I.
Ella was about to lunge towards the HOW Hall of Famer but he grabbed his duffel bag and his PWA Tag Team Championship and exited the vehicle before she could lay into him again. Multiple vehicles were honking their horns at the limo as he stumbled out onto the side of the road. The door shut behind him and they began to pull away.
JATT STARR: You’re an eleven out of ten, Jatt, old bean.
“They all want a ride of the Starrlite Sexpress and they go crazy when they get denied a ticket”, the Sheriff of Jattingham thought to himself as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone and pulled up his maps app. As the very large SUV continued to attempt a three point turn behind him much to the dismay of the other motorists, Jatt Starr began looking at his phone, seeking out the best route to walk back to the airport where he would grab a taxi to take him to the hotel he had booked. However, the villa sounded a lot nicer though…..