Marcus Gaines; Taking the GWA on his own terms

By Kelly Scholastic

It is wednesday night, a night I'd normally find myself in front of a dancing fireplace with a good Stephen King novel on my lap, giving me slight shivers as the pop-culture author uses various devices to spook me thoroughly inside and out. However, tonight I find myself very much not in the lap of comfort in my apartment; I am backstage at the popular wrestling company, the Gladiator Wrestling Assosciation trying to keep my ear drums from bursting at the sheer intensity of the noise from the cheering fans. Every Wednsday night in various arenas across the globe, this is a similar feeling for many people backstage. These fierce competitors go out night after night drenching themselves in sweat, tears, and some nights even blood, all to give these fans the show they paid good money to see. I've a theory that it is this exact quality, that "never give up" attitude that endears the masses to these athletes.

Either way I stand here looking up at a monitor surrounded by muscle-bound jocks, looking at the same monitor. Any woman would love to be in this position but not I, each man reeks of sweat and some have chipped teeth, others sport nasty gashes, scars and/or bruises. We all have our a focus on the aforementioned monitor, watching as a wrestler named Chris Cane takes a lesson in the school of hard-knocks courtesy of three other wrestlers, yet for the sake of this article, I'll focus on the one man I'm scheduled to interview.

Through his rugged exterior as a handsome young man, to his brash demeanor, Marcus Gaines seems to enthrall people through his sheer wittiness. I admit, as a columnist for this magazine, I'm more of an FWF fan than a GWA fan, but I can't help but be drawn to the instantly recognizable star power Marcus exudes. He has the charisma necessary to build champions, save for some mild mental instabilities, he'd be perfect candidate for a title shot in any federation. Yet there is more to this man than meets the eye. From the first time he entered the ring in a four-way showdown against such top-billed athletes like Ryken and Jimmy Luciano, many people knew he had that lasting effect.

And as I watched him take part in pummeling Chris Cane, I couldn't help but wonder just who this man was and what made him so punishing a fighter. He isn't the tallest or the strongest, or even the most well-muscled wrestler ever to grace a wrestling ring, but he has all the tools that can propel even the lowliest of competitors. After his match, as he walked into the backstage area, a towel draped over his shoulder, I approached him hoping he'd remember the interview I had booked no more than 2 weeks ago. Much to my chagrin he didn't, and with a wink he was off to his locker room. Keep in mind this wasn't a forced interview, but I finally managed to sit down with the man and ask some rather candid questions regarding all that is his life.

KRedman: Marcus, first of all. I'd like to know a bit about you're past, what has driven you to this lifestyle?

Gaines: Shiny things and lots of them.

At first it seemed his endearing quality wasn't present when it wasn't being conveyed through a television screen, but I soon realized he needed to be grilled for answers, much like a child.

KRedman: But honestly. What formal background do you have in this form of fighting?

Gaines: Well, I'll tell ya K.R. I'm a child of the martial arts. You don't just train in them, you become them. Much like playing Mario Brothers for the Nintendo Entertainment System, you have to enter the game and think like Mario. "Should I jump and hit that block? Or should I pounce on that goomba?" It's all very intrigueing.

His jokiness manner grows on you, believe me. Once he looked into my eyes for a brief moment, and noted my lack of enthusiasm at his brand of humour he took things a little more serious.

Gaines: I started studying karate when I was about, eight, I think. Those around me figured it wasn't wise after I'd already been involved in a serious incident at school in which I injured a young boy. But I continued studying it, and eventually in my spare time I studied Jeet Kune Do, I never got very far with that; But I learned most of the fundamentals necessary for imporvising techniques. Later on I moved up to Tae Kwan Do. Needless to say I have an extensive background in fighting techniques.

KRedman: And you put those techniques to use in the ring, I take it?

Gaines: When needed yeah, I don't go flashing my sh!t around when I don't need to though. If it's opponent worthy of getting his #ss kicked by some advanced manouevres then I pull them out of my pocket.

KRedman: You show such disdain for any opponent you face. Do you have such a negative view out of character?

He pauses a while to consider the question. Only the ceiling fan above us can be heard whirring, and I notice a glimmer of intelligence emanating from his otherwise scornful mug.

Gaines: Basically, who I am is my character. I don't mean to make that sound clichéd, but it's true. It's like that stupid computer jargon; WYSIWYG.

You can't help but smirk at his straightforward replies, and his little knowledge about a lot can't help but give you a positive opinion of this man.

KRedman: Is their a Misses Gaines?

Gaines: My mother.

Raises his eyebrow at me.

Gaines: Are you proposing?

I blush, but perhaps there was some truth to the question, this man is a hunk afterall.

KRedman: Female readers like to know these things. What are you thinking about when you're in the ring?

Gaines: It tends to be a blank. I'm generally focusing on taking all that rage I keep within me, and applying it retroactively to my opponents. I'm like a savage in that ring, if I were allowed a club it would be like a scene taken from 2001: A Space Odyssy.

KRredman: It is like you're fighting on another, more ethereal plane when you're in that ring. Is it anything like a spirtual enlightening when you fight?

Gaines: Said Sarcastically. Oh yeah, I'm like in a constant of orgasm when I'm tearing people limb from limb. Hell no. I fight because, A, it releases pent up frustration on someone other than joe pinchpenny on the street. And B, it makes me feel like, in my own demented way, I'm contributing something to society.

KRedman: Okay. Maybe you'd like to share a few words on you're upcoming match against Johnny Viscous and Splash Williams?

He seems mildly frustrated at the question, but looks thoughtful as he begins to respond.

Gaines: To be honest, I really hate when all that an interviewer can talk about is upcoming matches and expect any sort of different answer than anyone else whose been asked that question. I often wonder how many times an interviewer like yourself can hear the same rhetoric like "I'm gonna bust his chops and tear him a new eyepatch." It gets boring, and very quickly dated. This isn't WCW or the WWF, we don't need people telling us how many vitamins they take.

KRedman: That is a good point you sexy thing, you. But surely you must have something to say in regards to them. Or at least humour me, and go over the same old idioms used by you're fellow wrestlers.

Marcus again seems annoyed at my bluntness, but doesn't seem to mind too much.

Gaines: Okay. Fine. Let me see here. Well it's Splash Williams right? That's already an error. It makes no sense for a beach bum slash surfer to be wrestling. What, was he practicing Kung Fu on his surf board? I don't recall Frankie Valley or Annette Funicello managing to balance themselves well enough on a fake surfboard in front of a blue screen. It's one of those gimmicks that in order to believe you have to step out of all realistic thought, and for once ride the crazy train. Splash Williams poses absolutely no threat to me, other than causing me to laugh so hard I have a stroke from too much blood going to my lungs.

He stops and thinks a moment before proceeding.

Gaines: And Johnny Viscous? This guy is one of those types, where you kick him around a bit while the other #sswipe is twitching and flopping like a fish out of water, (which is basically what Splash is) and then go back and kick his a^^ some more. It's what I call the refridgeration method. It's basically storing Viscous away for some more %ss kicking. I'm trying to decide whether I should kick him around then store him away, or kick Splash around then go back to Viscous. See, it's trivial, but this is all I have to worry about for this type of match. If this was for that title Viscous carries around like a jockstrap then it would already be as good as mine and I'd be sanitizing it by now.

KRedman: Coming from any other person, I'd say that were gross, but from someone as strikingly wonderful as you, Marcus it sounds like a Wordsworth poem.

He chortles.

Gaines: Yeah, or something off of a Hallmark Card.

Now I find myself giggling like a shoolgirl around this dreamboat.

Gaines: I don't know what else really to say about either of these guys. However I've managed to make up an honorary Haiku for these two.

He stands up and places his hand to his chest as if he were singing the National anthem.

Johny Viscous and Splash Williams

They suck

They suck a lot more than I do

why do they eat Jello

'Cause it tastes good.

I find myself clapping even if this isn't a haiku. It's hard not to respond to this man's charisma and wit.

KRedman: I'm not quite sure if that was a Haiku, but I'm sure once everyone reads this article it'll be published.

Gaines: Ha! It already was!

Marcus is in the process of sitting down when the door opens slightly and in walks the bald head of none other than Michael Jordan. I'm slightly amazed to be in the presence of such highly accomplished superstars as these, and am flattered when Jordan winks in my direction. He then begins to talk to Marcus.

Michael Jordan: Hey Marcus, M'man! You know, seeing you in action out in that ring tonight inspired me to lace up the shoes again. I'm going back into the NBA, all thanks to you champ.

Despite that amazing news, Marcus doesn't seem too surprised at this coming from Jordan.

Gaines: I always knew you would, M.J. Just remember, anytime you use a dunk you learned from me you tell the public, got that?

Jordan lets out a sigh as his shoulders slump down.

Michael Jordan: All right. I can do that. Its going to really hurt my reputation though, Marcus.

Gaines: I know, M.J. Here.

Marcus tosses keys to Jordan which he catches rather awkwardly in the palm of his hand.

Gaines: Park my Mclaren F1 Supercar out front of the building would ya'?

Michael nods and starts walking out the room.

Michael Jordan: Sure thing, champ. See you at Ali Landrey's house tommorrow night.

Marcus nods back to Jordan giving him the proverbial, "wink and the gun" as Michael closes the door behind him.

[Marcus sat back from the computer screen just as Debra Coleman entered the office. She seemed surprised to find him sitting at her desk as she tossed her beige trench coat onto the hook on the wall, and closed the wooden door quietly behind her. She looked gorgeous as always, her hair flowing as it always was, enthralled Marcus as he watched her heavenly form seemingly glide into the room.]

[She stood looking rather disapointed at Marcus' presence in her office while she was away for lunch. He had been early for their twelve o'clock appointment, and so let himself into her office. He had been so busy with her computer he hadn't realized just how long he had been there for. She tapped her stiletto heel lightly against the carpet, obviously waiting for him to explain himself to her. He loved to see her like this, she had that sexy look always upon her face and he felt magnetically attracted to her at all times. Yet she always gave him that icy stare that she gave any man that tried to get at her that she wanted no part of. She tried to make it clear to him without being too blunt that her feelings for him were barely on that proffesional level. She didn't feel like telling him that he disgusted her at the most visceral level, the things this man was capable of were so horrid, she sometimes found it hard to look him in the eye.]

[But try as she might to get this man to another psychiatrist, all seemed to conveniently have trouble booking Marcus into their schedule. It seemed she was stuck with him. And it was plain to see he was "ga-ga" over her. She knew it. Anyone with half a brain could see it, but she always took it in stride as any attractive woman does when a man takes to giving attention their way when it is definately not needed. She was used to men's advances, even some patients, but this man, who was nearly ten years her junior took her by surprise. And as much as she tried to disuade him from trying to get closer to her, she always failed, he was so set on possessing her, it was flattering in a freakish sort of way.]

[Marcus swiveled the chair around completely to face her, and rested on the comfy recliner.]

Gaines: You're late. [Glancing at his watch.] We had a session about an hour ago.

Debra: I know, and I'm sorry. I had a meeting. How did you get in here?

[Marcus suddenly spun wildly in the chair as he began to speak causing his voice to lower in pitch when his back faced her, and gained volume as the chair gyrated around.]

Gaines: You're secretary let me in. I was waiting out there for a good twenty minutes, she obviously got annoyed at me and sent me in here to play on you're word processor thing. [He shifts aside from the computer screen for her to see what he has done with a large grin set across his lips. His voice sounds so full of exuberance, like he was the cat who ate the canary.] See what Marcus did?

[She glances at the screen for a moment then moves towards him slightly, her skirt hiking up a bit more towards her hips. Marcus noticed, and a smirk began to form.]

Debra: Yes, I see it, its very nice. Will you please move from my desk? If we're to have a session, we better make it quick.

[Marcus looks up from his previous distraction of her burgeoning peep show, into her eyes, and for a moment is compelled to sit an stare into this beautiful woman's lovely hazel eyes. But soon gets up and out of her way and sits on the leather couch. Debra sits down immediately never letting her back be turned to him for more than two seconds. She swivels in her chair, turning to look closely at the monitor in a sideways fashion where Marcus' movements can be closely seen out of the corner of her eye.]

Gaines: Why do we have to make it quick? Do you have any other patients to see today?

[She looks at him for a moment then back at the monitor. Her head falls back and lets out a soft giggle at what is on the screen, she shuts the monitor off and pivots back to face him.

Debra: [Pointing with her thumb back to the screen.] This is quite creative, Marcus. However you could have done something more realistic. Michael Jordan? [She smirks.] Sexual innuendos from you're interviewer? You do have an active imagination, don't you?

[Marcus lets out a genuine belly laugh.]

Gaines: Most of that ACTUALLY happened in my dream last night.

Debra: Heh. No need to be shy about this, Marcus. It is good to see you getting dedicated to wrestling the way you are. It means our therapy is working. I've been watching you're matches and I have to say I'm impressed.

[Marcus, who was previously leaning back on the couch in a lazy manner bursts forward in a sudden explosion of enthusiasm. Any praise coming from this goddess was excitement to him, each time something like this happened he felt a faint glimmer of hope form that she might be his.]

Gaines: Thank you. I'm glad its all right. I'm really getting into wrestling, and things are coming out better for me. I mean, I haven't done anything bad in public since my first match. I feel good about myself, Debra, thank you. I mean that.

[She sat and stared at him for a moment, she almost seemed to be evaluating him, but it didn't matter, he felt now like he might have a shot at her suddenly.]

Gaines: You know, Debra, I'm not doing anything tonight. Maybe you'd like to-

[She quickly interupted him, knowing exactly what those next few sylables were to be that escaped from his lips.]

Debra: Marcus, you're a patient. I don't date patients, you know that.

[That faint glimmer of hope felt like it had been shot out of his heart with an arrow, from some unseen huntsman. His heart felt as if it dropped down into his shoes and down the the next floor.]

Debra: I'm sorry, Marcus. Can we just get on with the session as if this didn't happen?

[As he sat there, his wrists resting on his knees looking into her face he felt suddenly very mad at his predicament.]

Gaines: [Leaning back again on the couch, and looking obviously annoyed, as he continously failed to make eye contact with her.] Sure, let's continue with the session. What do you want to know? How my life in GWA is going? How life as a freak is? Well, I hate it. I'm ostracized by my own family simply because I have some mental problems. Is that the answer you wanted Debra? [He stands up and paces forward and back from the couch. His voice begins to raise slightly everytime he speaks.] Or do you want to know all about my theories for how I'm going to beat up my opponents on Wednesday? Is that what they're paying you for? To listen to people like me tell you how many times a night they wet their bed, or how often they believe that that damn neighbours dog is telling them to murder postal workers. Is it all the same to you, Debra? Do you hear the same things everyday and just sort of block everyone out like they're not there?

[She sat startled for a moment. Unsure of what exactly to tell this man. If she told him what she thought of him, she'd surely lose hours of therapy trying o cure this man by a few simple words: I loathe you.]

Debra: Marcus. Please don't be upset about this stuff. If things were different, I'm sure I'd go out with you. Let's see what happens, okay? In fact I have a deal to make with you.

[He stops his pacing and looks steadily at her.]

Debra: Here's the deal. If I can clearly see that you're making an enormous improvement in therapy, and I can recommend you for some benefits that are withheld from patients with you're... er tendancies, then I'll go with you on a date to celebrate. How does that sound?

[Marcus' eyes lit up like that of a child seeing a heap of presents beneah the Christmas tree in the morning.]

Gaines: It sounds like a fair deal.

Debra: Good, now please sit down?

[Gaines rushed over to the couch and sat down, eager to please this woman who had just dashed his hopes then grew them again all within the span of two minutes.]

Debra: Okay. Now let's talk about the GWA, shall we? Tell me how things are from you're perspective.

Gaines: Well, I'd say things are great. I get to kick people around for money and pleasure all rolled into one. They're putting me in against some of the more top names now. I get to face Splash Williams and Johnny Viscous on Wednesday.

Debra: And so this is a step up for you?

Gaines: Definately. I don't want to have talk too much about these guys because I wasted all my good lines on that computer article thing. But yeah, I'll beat them. You'll see.

[Debra fakes a wide smile as she looks down at her watch.]

Debra: I'm sorry, Marcus. But its nearly two o'clock, I've got a new patient coming in and I need a bit of time to prepare. Do you mind if we call it a day?

Gaines: [Shrugs.] Sure, I understand that. I'll see you next Thursday?

[Marcus stands up and makes his way to the door, as Debra stands up to see him out.]

Debra: Yep, next Thursday it is.

[Marcus smiled as he walked out the door and to the elevator. Debra sat down in a heap on her couch mulling over the session with Marcus. It was always flattering to have him try for her the way he did, and she always felt bad when she had to turn him down yet again. But the sheer magnitude of what Marcus was capable of was overwhelming to her. She leaned her head back on the rest of the couch for what to her seemed like a few moments, but in fact was approximately a half an hour, and soon her intercom was buzzing on her desk. She got up and pressed the button.]

Secretary: Mister Barret Whistler is here to see you now.

Debra: Send him in.