It’s backstage, and you’ve by now showered and changed and are making your way towards the exit and your car.
Coming towards you, not unexpectedly, is the usual throng of media.
You hold your hands up, calling for silence and the chance to put across your thoughts and what was behind your actions… as if it wasn’t obvious…
The flare of camera flashes spark off across the breadth of your eyesight as you look out across the assembled throng of reporters, photographers and camera crew.
Afterimages flicker as your eyes adjust to the ever changing light causing you to squint,
(Hans): Entschuldigung, bitte entschuldigen sie mich.
A pause, the camera flashes diminish in frequency and the wave of noise washing over you recedes with it.
(Hans): Danke. Now, I’m sure you have questions, one at a time bitte.
Nodding your head towards the reporter closest to you, she holds the microphone towards you.
(Reporter 1): Are you really going to face off against Erica Martinez?
(Hans): Jah, I am.
(Reporter 1): Is it allowed?
Your eyebrows are raising up at this.
(Hans): Jah, it’s allowed. Unlike Briar, Herr Chaos or Fallen, I don’t go making matches up without first going through management…
A small shrug followed by your left hand being placed on your chest, tapping the fingers lightly.
(Hans): I don’t ask for matches at all in truth, so… I do it properly. Butch agreed.
You gesture at the reporter next to the one who’d asked the first question.
(Reporter 2): Did you have to go to such lengths in there Hans? Involving Erica’s mother…?
You cut him off.
(Hans): Habe ich getan… what a stupid question.
Gazing at him with a stare that causes him to glance downwards, you plough on, hackles up.
(Hans): You’ve seen what that mädchen has done to my wife unt I over the last few months. It was relentless. In one ear, sie hat Herr Chaos… in one ear and behind her skirt popping out occasionally to mouth off…
You sigh loudly, you’re getting off topic, he’s one for another day.
(Hans): Erica is delusional, she’s wants the real world to conform to this dream of hers. Nein, nein, werde ich nicht. I’m not someone’s pawn to move about the board with as they please. My wife is not to be moved aside on someone else's whim. For months you’ve followed this…
Pointing at all of the reporters now, you’re in full flow.
(Hans): … unt you’ve seen how she’s acted, you’ve seen what she’s said and what she’s done. You’ve stood outside mein haus for weeks now, seeing the impact and just… watching on... just letting the lies keep coming. So jah, ich habe die illusion… she’s back in the real world now. Next, I make it clear that you don’t touch meine frau.
Deep breath. Perhaps stop staring daggers into them all.
Another gesture at a different reporter.
Somewhat timidly, the microphone comes towards you.
(Reporter 3): HWA has never had an intergender match before, one on one at least, you’ll be making history Hans.
(Hans): I guess so.
(Reporter 3): Other federations have delivered inter gender matches these last few years, is this something that you expect the HWA to continue or will this be a one-off?
(Hans): I’m not management, so…
Another shrug of the shoulders to emphasize the point.
But.
Fine.
Throw them a bone, or whatever they want to hear on this.
(Hans): But, you heard the fans in there, It’s something they clearly wanted to see, jah? Wir haben some phenomenal ladies on the roster. Jah, I could see it happening.
You gesture towards one of the reporters at the back this time.
(Reporter 4): Did you see the bout between Jeremy and Sean?
(Hans): Jah, I watched it from gorilla. It was, jah, it was wunderbar. Both should be proud of their efforts. Anyone on the roster who saw that and thinking they don’t need to prepare better for the next time they face either, they’re lying to themselves.
(Reporter 4): Any word on when you’ll face off against Red Dragon?
(Hans): Again, broken record… I’m not management. You’ll hear it when the time is right, but, given we postponed so I could get into a better head space… let me deal with Erica first, jah.
Another reporter is pointed to.
(Hans): Last question bitte.
(Reporter 5): That was your first match against Stu-E Price there Hans. Things between you have been relatively civil since your match was first announced, seemed like you had a lot of respect there at the end…
(Hans): Ich tat und tue es.
(Reporter 5): … so are you worried that might change in time?
(Hans): Can’t see it changing, no. Like I said to him, better man on the night won, I’ll be in a much better state when I can look over at that commentary booth and see my wife sitting there, so I hope we can put it to the test then.
(Reporter 5): The old Germany vs. England rivalry play a part too?
A smile crosses your face at that.
(Hans): A bit… though I’d say it’s ah, it’s overblown in some sense. You can tell when it’s said in jest and when it’s not. It’s not like Herr Chaos making jokes about the holocaust, so I’ll forgive if Herr Price wishes to bring up their one trophy from time to time, perhaps over a beer some day.
You nod at the remaining reporters, beginning to drop your shoulder slightly and make your way through them towards the backstage door leading to the parking lot as the scene fades to black.
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