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A.W.E. Anthropomorphic Wrestling Entertainment by Marcus Noble

Chapter 1

Why do I feel so nervous? I did backflips off stone fountains in Mexico City when I was a kid. I fought mobsters in underground cage matches when I was in high school. I performed in front of crowds of drunk people throwing bottles along and racial slurs at the same time. So why does performing in front of the people in this arena make me feel nervous?

Because I'm not just performing in front of these people here but for the thousands or possibly millions watching on TV at home. I guess it comes with being a ferret, I always fidget and shake when I'm nervous. I adjust the straps on the back of my mask making sure they're firm and secure against the back of my head. I've lost count of how many times I've done this and as I do, I feel a firm hand on my shoulder followed by a deep voice about a foot above my head.

"You keep doing that and you're gonna cut off the circulation to your brain."

Even without looking up I could tell who the tall and well built silverback gorilla trying to ease my tension was Adrien Bayless. Though of course no one called him that. He was more commonly known by his ring name "The Greaser". While he doesn't have the long slick back hair that he did many years ago, he still wears the metal studded leather jacket with his ring name on the back. Seems that even if he isn't in a match he likes walking around the back wearing that jacket. When you've been in the business as long as he has, done as much as he has, you pretty much have carte blanche to wear whatever you want. It doesn't help that this place where we stand was actually named after him. The area behind the curtain leading to the entrance ramp was called "the gorilla position" since he spends so much time lurking around here.

"Nervous habit. Don't even know why creative wants me to wear a mask. Seems kind of redundant to me."

Like the rest of my family, my fur is varying shades of brown, including the natural markings of my mask. As a result the creative folks in Anthropomorphic Wrestling Entertainment or A.W.E. wanted to come up with a flashy outfit to match the personality I cultivated for myself while I was in their developmental territory. Can't really argue with the logic that the bright colors of my outfit stand out against my darker colored fur. For my debut tonight they have me in all neon yellow but at least the outlines on the mask I'm wearing match the dark brown of the one that occurs naturally on my face. And the legs of my pants are adorned with my ring name "El Huron" with the color of the lettering matching my natural mask as well.

"Look on the bright side, with creative taking control of your wardrobe it leaves you more time to concentrate on your work in the ring."

I waggled my eyebrows a bit. Even through the mask you could easily see it.

"What do you mean? My ring work is fine, otherwise I wouldn't be here would I?"

Greaser let out a hearty laugh as if I had just told the funniest joke he'd ever heard.

"Boy, there is always room for improvement. Especially considering that it is your first televised match something is going to go wrong. Best you can do is just make it look good for the crowd. If you can manage that maybe you won't end up as a jobber for the next few years."

There is no way I am going to let that happen. I've spent enough time in developmental making other guys look good by losing. It is about time that I look good for once. Considering all of the hazing that new guys are put through I can't tell weather this is Greaser just having some fun at my expense or if he is fucking with my head. Either way I need to keep my mind on the match if I'm going to stop shaking before going out in front of the crowd. I look at the run sheet posted on the wall and see that my first match is against C-Sharpe. He really lives his gimmick and is a actual DJ outside of the ring.

Greaser squeezed my shoulder again "Well boy don't worry, if they're willing to let you win over C-Sharpe maybe there is some hope for you after all."

He let out that laugh once again before heading off toward where catering was set up. I didn't like how he calls me boy but hazing is part of being a rookie in any wrestling promotion. So that's not going to stop any time soon. Then a brown furred rat walked in from down the hallway wearing a TV production headset and holding a clip board in his hand. "El Huron, you're on after the commercial break. Are you ready?"

Here I thought that conversation with Greaser would have eased my nerves a bit. It didn't help at all. Still this is my first live broadcast match, something that I have been dreaming about for a long time and I don't want to disappoint. Not the audience, not the other wrestlers, not my opponent, and certainly not myself.

"I'm ready." I say with as much authority as I can muster.

"Right well you go on in five, four, three, two, one!" The production rat made a circular motion with his finger. It only took me a moment to get what the signal meant, as my music hit I went through the curtain and out onto the ramp to the cheers of the crowd.