A dank must lingers in the air of the gym. The smell of used jockstraps and sweaty man-meat clings to the walls. But only the cameraman can smell that.
BANG!
“Mmhmm… look!” a harsh, male voice speaks, throaty and disjointed. His consonants are inconsistent, but any prospective viewers are just going to have to imagine that. ‘Cause there’s a line, ya know?
BANG!
“See?”, the voice continues, drawing the word out to have an extra syllable. “He is strongest, yes? Mmhmm…”
The dumb-dumb cameraman finally clicks that the cap is still on the camera lens. Or maybe it was just a stylistic thing? Yeah, let’s go with that. As the cap is removed, light floods in. A ring dominates the middle of the vision. Inside, Shujin Yama – clad in a classic white mawashi loincloth with his dimpled booty exposed to the absolute maximum that the channel will allow – stands above a puny (compared to him) bare-chested man, who writhes in pain on the ground.
“Another!” demands the source of the voice, a Japanese man in a full tuxedo, bowtie and all, offset by a red MAGA hat.
The victim on the canvas of the ring is pulled out by nameless grunts and another, equally puny, though perhaps flashier (dare one say… richer?), peon is shoved forwards towards the ring. Gingerly, he climbs up to the apron and enters.
“Watch!” the Japanese man commands.
They lock up!
The rich little peon actually snaps a headlock onto Yama! Immediately, however, Yama uses his massive mass to shoot the peon off towards the rope. With no control over his body, the peon ricochets off the ropes and straight back into a massive shoulder tackle! He flies to the other side of the ring!
“Strongest!” comments the observer.
Utterly bewildered, the peon scrambles to his feet. He looks desperately to the grunts outside, as they diligently ignore him and sweep coarse brooms across the concrete surrounding the ring, because reasons.
Finding some resolve (but not much), he taunts the monstrous Yama, who trudges forward. The nameless opponent drops down, and almost in slow motion, Yama passes over him. He turns, and finds his foe back on his feet. Yama surges forward again. His opponent jumps up for a leapfrog. But he’s caught! He’s slammed to the mat! No hip toss follows, just a hip drop! Yama’s rotund derriere lands squarely upon the other wrestler. The suited man counts!
“Ichi!”
“Ni!”
“San!”
It’s all over, rover! How’s that for a Classic Wrestling sequence?
As Yama stands tall, the ringside attendants (read: grunts) slide the flattened foe out by his feet, and the man on the outside joins the behemoth in the ring. He raises Yama’s hand and they pose for nobody in particular to see.
“Victory!” he yells.
Shujin Yama roars.
Elsewhere, a douchebag millennial probably wets himself.
“Ladies… gentlemen…” says the suited man. his voice lowering to that same throaty, fragmented accent. “My name is Sensei Abe Lincoln, and this… my client… Shujin Yama.”
Yama beats his chest and slaps his belly.
“Shujin Yama is greatest sumo,” he resumes, “but International Sumo Federation will not evolve for future. They will live to regret their short-sighted decision. Shujin Yama is future. Of sumo, and of Classic Wrestling.”
Off-camera, the previously steamrolled bozo loudly groans. It catches both men’s attention. They each smirk.
“You have seen result, mmhmm..” Sensei Lincoln continues. “He is strongest in Classic Wrestling. He is largest in Classic Wrestling. Shujin Yama have low centre of gravity. Nobody push Shujin Yama around! Compared to Shujin Yama, Rich K Hunt is just ant. Shujin Yama is Supersized! Little Richard will be squashed like bug! And then, Shujin Yama will go on to win tournament and be recognised as Real World’s Champion. He will take by force. He will make example of everyone. And he will prove International Sumo Federation wrong, mmhmm…”
“That’s right!” Yama bellows with a deep, Florida panhandle drawl. “I am professional wrestling Supersized. I will show Japan how great sumo could be! And I will teach young American punks like Rich K Hunt what real combat looks like! The world needs a real champion, and when I hold the Real World’s Championship above my head, all you matchstick dweebs will be forced to bow before Shujin Yama!”
Yama raises one leg into the sky and drops down into a classic sumo pose. Upon this, the camera fades to black.