There were many times where the police would hassle me, but among some of my finer arts of deception, I would pretend that the spray can that I was holding was deodorant. It worked most of the time, since the Philly police weren't exactly the sharpest knives in the drawer. I was generally a good kid, but never one to shy away from getting into trouble.
But then I tagged the wrong building. I didn't know at the time, but C.O.L.D. had been watching me for quite some time. They knew that I was a unique individual, so I often wonder how the events of that day might have changed, or if I could have even changed them to begin with. I was in the middle of spray painting the side of what I thought was an abandoned warehouse, little did I know that it served as the C.O.L.D. headquarters, about ten stories below the ground.
I saw a man in a strange parka walking towards me, so I did what anyone would do in that situation. I ran. But he was extremely quick and caught me, dragging my denying ass into the warehouse where I was then shown the Case Files that would etch into my memory forever.
However, I'm far too deep in thought and I shouldn't be.
"Pass the ball, I'm over here!"
I stand there, bouncing the ball and watch the young man as I take some time to unwind. You know me, I'm Glenn Lacïer, Agent of C.O.L.D., codename Glacier. But right now, I'm just chillin' out, maxin', relaxin' all cool and shooting some b-ball outside of the school. We're playing a game of 21, with one dollar on the line for each basket. It's been a game that we all play outside of Cornell University, a game that has been played with money on the line for decades.
The score it all tied up at 20 to 20, so with this one shot, I could essentially win the game for my team, thereby earning each of us a cool $21 dollars in cash each. But then that's when things change. I don't realize it at first, but the skies darkened and the wind began to rustle. I left my trusty ice gun over in my blue parka along with the rest of my C.O.L.D. equipment. But as I said, I didn't even notice any change in my environment. I was far too focused on my shot to win the game.
A quick dodge, a fake and then I take my shot! The ball sails through the air, almost as if it's in slow motion. The ball hits the backboard, rolls around the rim and then flings outwards. The ball nails a rather large African American in the head, who is sitting there with a group of even larger, well-muscled men.
Fear grips all of our hearts as the group now rushes us and attacks! I am unable to defend myself and I'm terrified! The man shoves me and then picks me up and spins me around before dropping me on my back! Pain is all I feel and he drives down on me with a big stomp and everything goes black.
SEVERAL MINUTES LATER
Glacier wakes up and blinks his blurry eyes, trying to get them to focus. He realizes that he's on the ground, still outside, but now there are people hovering over him. He jerks instinctively, but they aren't the giant, hulking men that had waylaid him, instead, it is a few EMTs.
EMT: "Are you alright, sir?"
Glacier: Yes, I'm fine.
Glacier replies as he stands up, perhaps a little too quickly, as he places a hand to his head and then almost falls to the side. He is helped fully to his feet and walked over to a bench. After a few minutes of discussion with the EMT as another checks his pupils.
Glacier finally feels strong enough to stand. By now, a crowd has gathered around him (mostly to snap pictures at his busted ass face) and Glacier now immediately grabs his blue parka and slides it on. He looks around, in vain, for his awesome blue sunglasses, but always prepared, he reaches into his parka and grabs another identical set. He now turns to the crowd that has gathered around him.
Glacier: Did anyone see where the man who attacked me went?
At first, everyone in the crowd seems reluctant to offer any sort of assistance on where the group of men went, but finally, an old, gray-haired man points to the east with his cane.
Old Man: They went that way, youngster! I heard one of 'em sayin' they were going to Bel Air. Check the airport, young 'un!
Glacier: Then Bel Air, shall I go!
Glacier now juts out a leg, shakes it and then walks over to the curb. He whistled for a cab and when it came near, the license plate said something, but he couldn't make it out. He slid into the cab and yelled at the driver, who was busy adjusting the fuzzy dice on the mirror, which is quite rare.
Glacier: Forget them, I'm heading to Bel Air! Take me to the airport and step on it!
The cab tears away from the curb, leaving the crowd of onlookers watching the strange man take off. Inside the cab, Glacier now reaches in his jacket into the inside pocket. Behind the thick winter padding is another pocket, a secret pocket where Glacier keeps his C.O.L.D. weapon.
He checks and confirms its location before leaning back and trying to relax. The cab continues on in the rush hour traffic, with the driver zipping past other cars and dangerously veering from lane to lane without even turning his head to check his side mirrors.
However, none of this scares Glacier. He's seen far worse and been in far worse situations than this one, without a doubt. Half an hour passes before the cab finally arrives at the airport.
The cab darts into the Loading/Unloading Lane and Glacier quickly hops out, muttering a quick, "Yo homes, smell ya later.". He then sees the man he's looking for, standing in line at Terminal 18.
Glacier casually strolls through the security checkpoint and then steps up behind the man. He taps the man on the shoulder, which causes the massive mammoth of a man to turn around. The man laughs at Glacier as he sees the cuts and bruises that adorn Glacier's face.
Massive Man: "You came back for more, little man?"
Glacier nods with a smirk on his battered face.
Glacier: That I did. Do you want to step outside and try that again?
Massive Man: You know I do!
Glacier now turns and walks out, followed by Massive Man. Any ordinary person seeing this sight would laugh or piss themselves, but all of the passengers in the terminal are too busy doing their own things and/or minding their own business. As both men step outside, Massive Man clenches his fists, but Glacier holds up a hand.
Glacier: Not yet. We need to leave the property, otherwise any violence here would result in quick apprehension by law enforcement.
Remarkably, there is a brain in the tiny head of Massive Man. Glacier just assumed that the steroids ruined any remaining braincells that the man had. They both power walk through the parking lot and out into the grassy fenced area just outside of the airport. Now, Glacier turns around and faces Massive Man.
Glacier: Alright, you ready?
Massive Man grins wickedly as he cracks his knuckles.
Massive Man: I'm ALWAYS ready, punk!
Without warning, Massive Man now rushes Glacier, his meaty, giant-sized hands heading straight for Glacier's throat. Glacier dodges, ducks and dives out of the way. As he rolls around to his side, Glacier slides a hand inside his parka and pulls out one of his C.O.L.D. weapons and fires!
Four tiny electric nodes fire from the end of the weapon, attached by small, thin lines of wire. The icy cold sound of electricity, sparking and crackling are heard as 20,000 volts surge through Massive Man's body. The gargantuan, giant, goliath of a man falls to the ground.
Glacier now pulls out the small nodes from Massive Man's chest and retracts the wire with the flick of a switch on the side of his C.O.L.D. gun.
Glacier: Why did you beat the hell out of me? I want answers!
Massive Man weakly opens his eyes and at first, says nothing. Glacier now levels the C.O.L.D. taser at him once more, and this time Massive Man speaks.
Massive Man: I was hired to do it!
Glacier's eyes narrow as he tries to think of who it could have been. He now leans in closer, tapping the weapon on the side of Massive Man's temple.
Glacier: Who was it?
Massive Man appears to be quickly thinking of a name, almost as if he is lying, but Glacier, lost in thought, misses the facial tell.
Massive Man: It was Johnny Chaos! He wanted me to beat the hell out of his competition, you were the first on the list!
Glacier now smirks as he lays in a kick to the side of Massive Man's head, knocking Massive Man out cold.
Glacier: So he wants to play dirty, does he? Two can play at that game!
Glacier now pulls out his COLDBERRY cell phone and dials 911.
Glacier: Yes, I'd like to report a suspicious character just outside of Philadelphia International. He's been wandering around like he's drunk and now he's right outside of the north gate. I think he might be a terrorist!
Glacier now disconnects the call, keeping it under 20 seconds to conceal the number tracer. He now grins as he walks back inside the gate and dials another number on his COLDBERRY.
Glacier: Code name Glacier. Numeric identification 031417. I need all of the files on Johnny Chaos.
C.O.L.D. CASE # 0002: JOHNNY CHAOS
A camera flips on and is carelessly handled before it is swiveled around and brought to life. The face of Glacier, as usual, clad in his blue parka and giant blue sunglasses can be seen as he waves with his other hand.
Glacier: Hi everyone. Glacier here to call out Johnny Chaos. You see, I've been watching all of the garbage that has been airing on television over the past few weeks. In some cases, I'm entertained, but in other cases, I'm bored. Unfortunately, you are one of those boring people. I've been trying, in vain, to make things happen around the world of wrestling, and all I seem to see in response are the same boring, canned responses. "I'm an idiot.", "I'm mentally insane.", "I'm a freak." and the list goes on and on.
Johnny Chaos is one of those guys who likes to pretend that he's a massive star, but in reality, he's just sad. I wonder what his excuse will be this week, when he barely squeezes in time for his "sorry this is so short" interview. I imagine the PWE won't have time to show it on television, so they'll have to relegate it in between some kind of infomercials, or even worse, to the "Extras" section at PWE.com.
Glacier now leans forward in his chair with a scowl on his face.
Glacier: The World Tag Team Titles are up for grabs this week in an open invitational. I already see that there are people out there trying to stake their claim for them. Like Alessandro, who claims to be from New Jersey, America. I'm pretty sure that every person out there knows that New Jersey is in America.
I mean, where else would the world's biggest garbage come from? Talk about crap, I wouldn't live in Jersey if they paid me with all the oil you could wring from Snooki's hair. I'm one of those purists, and after watching some of the filth and waste that come out of Alessandro's mouth, I'll kindly keep an eye on him. He's one of those guys that thinks he's a hot shot, but when it's all said and done, he's nothing but a brainless windbag.
Glacier now leans back in the chair with a chuckle and a smile.
Glacier: Oh, but then Alessandro turns around and says something else, that completely redeems himself! I have to admit, I laughed a bit when you talked about how my mother likes chocolate. You do know her well, she's a big fan of chocolate. Why, she one time blew a guy in a van to get a box of free candy bars.
Unfortunately though, I called my mother last night on the phone, and all she could do was laugh. She kept laughing about some guy named Alessandro who had a small Tootsie Roll instead of a Double Sized Chocolate bar. I would have felt bad, but she said that it made her laugh so much that she even gave the poor guy a few tips.
You see, he told my mother that he had never given his tootsie roll to a woman, only men, and that he wasn't sure what he needed to do. So I guess you were right, my mother definitely knows you, doesn't she?
Glacier grins for a moment before he shrugs his shoulders.
Glacier: But what's the most disturbing is that we have Silva, a guy that can barely string together a coherent sentence from his elementary school drop-out self, but somehow he also has the strange notion that he's going to win. I can guarantee you all this, Silva will not be walking out as the next Tag Team Champion, not if I have anything to say about it.
This is MY time to shine in the PWE, especially after my thrilling win over The Dungeon Master last week. He and I may not see eye-to-eye, but we both know to strike while the iron is hot, and there is no better time than now to strike in the PWE. The World Tag Team Titles have been in my sights since I joined.
No one else has even bothered mentioning them except for me... until this week that is. Now suddenly, everyone wants the Tag Titles and I find it a little sad that people are so wishy-washy, especially that idiot Silva.
Glacier now stands up and walks over to the thermostat on the wall. The digital display shows: 65. Glacier now presses the down arrow on it until it stops at 55 and will go no further. He now nods to himself and sits back down in the chair.
Glacier: But then there is Dan Taylor. You see, Dan Taylor is without a doubt, the biggest flake out there. Dan Taylor spent his time in the EWE, where he was consistently ridiculed in the showers by the real talent and then humiliated out there in the ring by superior wrestlers. Even the women on the roster had issues with him, which I'm not surprised, considering that he doesn't even like women to begin with. But the biggest complaint about Dan Taylor is his idiocy.
Glacier now narrows his eyes at the camera.
Glacier: Dan somehow thinks that if he cuts a two minute interview and then splits them up into two or three smaller segments, that somehow it means that he's the most dedicated man on the roster. Trust me, Danny, I've seen your interviews on television and if you put all three of your interviews together last week, they still can't even touch one interview from several of us on the roster.
Hell, everyone is still wondering exactly HOW you were able to win the title, considering that your interviews combined were shorter than your opponent. But then again, you have the "inside track" with the front office, which probably explains the cracks on the side of your mouth and why your face is so shiny, big boy.
Glacier's eyes now open wide as he laughs madly. The laughter goes on for far too long to be entertaining, instead, it starts to become a little unnerving. Finally, at long last, it ceases.
Glacier: But nonetheless, The World Tag Team Titles will not be heading around your waist, Danny. You should be more concentrated on keeping that World Title of yours. I imagine you'll just be another One Hit Wonder. You'll make it to your first defense, and you'll lose it. I'm the all-knowing prognosticator of prognosticators. I just have that feeling in my bones, Danny. So if I were you, I'd just sit back, keep your mouth shut, and tell that girl that you pay to hang out with you to drop by my place for a visit.
Glacier now stands back up and heads over to the door. He opens it and outside all that can be seen is an almost arctic wasteland. Snow and an icy cold wind are seen and heard as he turns back to the camera.
Glacier: This week, the World Tag Team Titles are coming home to me. If The Dungeon Master doesn't show, then I'll have to do it myself and choose my partner after the fact. I'm going to do whatever it takes to win, regardless of who gets in my way. So prepare yourselves boys, because you're all about to get the Cold Shoulder!
Glacier now steps out into the snow as the scene fades out to white.
Coming Next Week: Glacier vs Dracula!
