The TV League: Match 1
Bamber vs. Penikett
Eli Brody commanded the West Coast region as both political leader and entertainment industry Titan. His empire was built on his savvy choices of what entertainment talent to promote, in what vehicle, and for how long. His success was premised on one thing: produce the talent that made him hard. The entertainment consuming public had never failed to follow where Eli’s cock led.
The talent could be made or broken by the likes of Titans like Eli. So he was approached all the time by beautiful actors looking to make an impression. Eli could pluck someone from obscurity and create a multimedia juggernaut. He could also employ some mouth-to-mouth resuscitation to the careers of talent that seem to be stalling. Eli sometimes found that it was equally important and profitable to know when to break down overexposed talent, to choreograph their fall from grace in just such a way as to maximize the ratings by exploiting the falling stars that the public has grown to love to hate.
Eli’s Vancouver studio office was situated in a dockside warehouse that looked more industrial than entertainment-industrial. He discovered that his secretary had scheduled two back-to-back appointments one day that Eli had a hunch were marketshare gold. Two actors were at the cusp of their breakout, and both were coming to Eli to make their pitch to become the next big thing.
Both actors, Jamie Bamber and Timoh Pinikett, had their first big breaks on the same TV show. Both immediately generated a passionate fan following that only grew more intense as each actor appeared in less and less clothing as the series unfolded. As the series came to its natural conclusion, both Jamie and Timoh had jobs lined up, but they wanted what neither had yet accrued the capital to secure: the breakthrough role that would catapult them into the heights of stardom.
Eli first found himself sitting across his desk from Jamie. Jamie was pitching a new idea he had for a show, starring him, of course. “It’s guaranteed to capture marketshare,” Jamie explained in his British accent. “I’m in top shape physically. I have my following from the last show. And I’m ripe for a vehicle that will make me, and you, a boatload.”
Eli smiled and nodded, but his mind was elsewhere. He had another idea for Jamie that would almost certainly make him a bigger star than this tired cop show format he was pitching today. But he needed to time his counter offer just right.
“Mr. Brody,” his secretary called across the intercom, “your next appointment is here.”
“Jamie, I’m sorry that I’m so booked this morning,” Eli said. “I think you may be on to something, but I’ve got to meet with my next appointment. Perhaps you’d like to stay and we can talk further about this after my next meeting.”
“Sure!” Jamie seemed pleased to get a second round for his pitch. As he stood up to exit the room, Eli waved him back to his seat.
“No, I’d like you to stay. I’d like your take on my next appointment.”
Eli walked to his office door to welcome his next appointment. “Come in, Timoh. I think you and Jamie know one another.”
Timoh walked in and looked at Jamie with a scowl. “I thought this would be just you and I, Mr. Brody.”
“My appointment with Jamie went long. In any case, I think perhaps the three of us may have some things we could talk about together.”
Waving Timoh into the seat next to Jamie, Eli sat down again at his desk.
“Gentlemen, I’ve got a can’t-lose idea for the both of you. You’ve both made a splash on the market, but you split your audience. Your last show polarized your consituents. There are now Jamie-fans, and there are Timoh-fans, but not much crossover between the two camps. Now we could give you each a new vehicle with the hope that you could translate to a larger fan base. But I think there’s a better way to go. I’m prepared to give one of you a contract for a can’t-miss serial featuring you, lot’s of skin, and guaranteed marketshare. But I’m not going to decide which one of you gets the contract. You are.”
“We are?” they both said at the same time.
“Yes, you are,” Eli smiled. “If you’re willing to fight for it, you’ll end up a winner out of this. Are you both willing to fight for this, literally?”
Both Timoh and Jamie swallowed hard, then nodded.
“Excellent. Be here tomorrow at noon.”
Tahmoh and Jamie arrived at Eli Brody’s warehouse headquarters in Vancouver the next day at noon. Both men were nervous, unsure what Eli meant by being prepared to fight for their chance at a new vehicle for their careers. Eli greeted them at his office door, but rather than welcome them inside, he directed them down the hallway. Stopping at an unmarked door, Eli explained, “This is our locker room, gentlemen. Go on in and you’ll find your gear.”
“Gear for what?” Tahmoh asked anxiously.
“The fight for the contract,” Eli explained. “You’ll be fighting each other. The first one to obtain a submission from his opponent will be granted the contract. This will launch the victor into the stratosphere of television stardom. You’ll command the pay and the audience to call your own shots for the next move in your career. But only one of you will get a shot at that path. It’s time to get suited up, now.”
Tahmoh and Jamie looked at each other, then walked into the locker room. The walls were lined with gray lockers. Changing benches stood about a foot in front of the lockers. On two benches on opposite sides of the room, the men saw boxes, one with Tahmoh’s name and the other with Jamie’s name. Each man opened his box and pulled out wrestling gear. Tahmoh’s were red with a Canadian maple leaf across the abdomen. Jamie’s singlet was blue with the union jack across the front and back.
Each man turned his back on the other and started to strip down. Jamie pulled off his polo shirt and undid his button fly jeans. Standing in his underwear, Jamie was, indeed, at the top of his physical form. On his 5’9″ frame, Jamie’s shoulders were sculpted, and his pecs were round and massive. His arm muscles were cut like crystal, each muscle group clearly striated through the taught skin. Jamie’s tiny waist was layered in abdominal and oblique muscles bulging overtop one another. His round, muscled ass sat atop thick legs built for both sprint and distance speeds of an English footballer. As Jamie pulled off his underwear to put on the jock strap tucked in the corner of his box, his thick cock and massive balls hung loose. He was shaved smooth all over, and sweat was already making his skin glisten as he tugged on the skin tight union jack wrestling singlet.
At the same time, Tahmoh was also stripping off his skin tight white t-shirt and jeans. Tahmoh wasn’t as heavily muscled as Jamie, but well-muscled, just the same. At 6’3″ he towered over Jamie. His broad chest wasn’t as round as Jamie’s, but his muscles had a look of real work behind them. Tahmoh spent time in the gym building his broad back and strong frame, but he had clearly earned his strength doing more than just lifting gym weights. As Tamoh stripped out of his underwear and into his jock strap, his cock was considerably longer than Jamie’s. He was naturally smooth. Pulling on his maple leaf singlet, Tamoh adjusted his jock.
Both men looked at each other silently for a moment once they were dressed. “Now what?” Jamie asked rhetorically.
“Gentlemen,” Eli’s voice came from a speaker overhead, “Exit the lockerroom through the door at the end of the room.”
Both men walked through the door to find a classic pro wrestling ring in a large open cargo warehouse. Bleachers lined the walls on all four sides, but they were empty. Eli sat on a wooden chair in front of the ring. As the men approached, Eli stood.
“This is a treat for just a few of my most generous backers. You’re being broadcast to a very select audience of fans. This,” Eli pointed to the ring, “is your arena. The winner will secure the submission of his opponent, and then take his prize. Whenever you’re ready.”
As Tahmoh and Jamie approached the ring, Eli straddled his chair backward, resting his arms on the chair back to face the ring as he watched the men climb through the ropes. Jamie began to bounce from foot to foot, warming up his body. Tahmoh shadow boxed in one corner, preparing himself mentally for what was to happen next.
“Ready?” Jamie asked after a few seconds of nervous warm-ups.
“Let’s do this,” Tahmoh answered.
The two men circled one another in the center of the ring. Jamie dropped to one knee going in for a single leg, but Tahmoh hopped backward out of reach.
“You’ve done this before,” Jamie said with a smile.
“Hell, I’ve never done anything like this before,” Tahmoh smiled back. “But I’ve wrestled a little.”
Both men continued to circle one another, sizing each other up. Jamie lunged for another single leg and caught Tahmoh’s left ankle. Tahmoh collapsed on top of Jamie, grabbing him across the throat with his left forearm and squeezing by grasping his left wrist with his right hand and pressing upward. Jamie began to choke and released Tahmoh’s ankle to try to pry Tahmoh’s arm away from his throat.
“You’re choking me,” Jamie coughed out.
“I’m beating you, you ass hole,” Tahmoh responded fiercely.
Jamie twisted his head around within Tahmoh’s grip, releasing the pressure across his windpipe. Already sweating with the initial exertion, Jamie wedged his hands between Tahmoh’s forearm and chest, and pried them loose enough to slip out of the headlock. Both men rolled away from one another and stood crouching, facing one another.
Jamie lunged again for a leg, but this time Tahmoh saw the move coming. Clenching both hands together above his head, Tahmoh brought his double fists crashing down across Jamie’s muscled back just as he was stretched out reaching for Tahmoh’s leg. Jamie went crashing to the mat with a thud. Tahmoh immediately brought his entire bodyweight down on one knee driving into the small of Jamie’s back. He stood up again, aimed, and brought his knee again down with his full weight in the exact same spot. Again, Tahmoh stood, took deliberate aim, and pounded his knee again into the weakened spot of Jamie’s lower back.
“Ahhh!” Jamie cried out in pain with the third knee. Reaching backward to try to protect his lower back with his right arm, Jamie quickly found Tahmoh dropped to his knees next to him, grabbing his vulnerable arm with both hands and bending it backward in a painful hammerlock.
“Okay, I lied,” Tahmoh said quietly from behind Jamie’s ear. “I have done this before.”
Standing up while straddling his opponent, Tahmoh gripped Jamie’s trapped arm with both hands and yanked hard upward, dragging Jamie’s body a foot off of the mat dangling from his precariously twisted shoulder. As Jamie screamed in pain, Tahmoh drove him back down onto the mat. Then Tahmoh placed both hands on Jamie’s hammerlocked arm and kicked his feet up in the air, doing a handstand, then balancing his full bodyweight down on Jamie’s nearly dislocated arm. Tahmoh maintained the pressure balanced in his handstand for a few seconds, then again dropped his right knee down into the weakened small of Jamie’s back.
Cranking Jamie’s muscled right arm even higher up his back, Tahmoh knelt down on one knee and lowered his head to speak softly in Jamie’s ear. “The way I see it, you’ve got three options right now. You can submit, and this is over. I can break you down quickly and really injure you. Or I can pick you apart, piece by piece, until you can’t move. Which option do you want?”
“Fuck you,” Jamie growled through clenched teeth.
“Hmmm,” Tahmoh snorted. “That’s definitely not option one. But I’m not sure if it’s option two or option three. I guess it’ll have to be my choice.”
Maintaining his hammerlock with one hand, Tahmoh grabbed Jamie’s hair with his other hand and pulled his opponent up off the mat. Just as Jamie was pulling his knees underneath him into a kneeling position and balancing himself with his free hand, Tahmoh released the hammerlock and hair, pivoted on his left leg and brought a roundhouse kick solidly across the side of Jamie’s face. Jamie’s nose snapped, and blood flew through the air as Jamie landed on his side on the mat.
Grabbing his dazed opponent by the hair again, Tahmoh dragged him up to his feet. Scooping through Jamie’s legs with his right arm and grasping his neck in the crook of his left arm, Tahmoh raised the stunned man up to his chest. Tahmoh looked down at Eli, watching intently from outside the ring, and then paraded Jamie’s battered and vulnerable body around the ring. Stopping in the center of the ring, Tahmoh lifted Jamie high up on his chest. Then dropping to one knee, Tahmoh drove Jamie’s already weakened small of the back down across his outstretched knee. As Jamie cried out in pain, nearly split in half across Tahmoh’s knee, Tahmoh grabbed Jamie’s left ankle with his right hand and grabbed Jamie’s chin with his left hand and pulled each end of Jamie’s body harder across his knee.
Crying out in pain, Jamie flailed with his hands, smacking at Tahmoh’s grasp. Tahmoh released Jamie’s ankle, and then brought his elbow down into the tightly muscled abdomen stretched out across his knee. Leaning forward, driving the point of his elbow into Jamie’s midsection, Tahmoh worked the elbow in small circles, digging deep and breaking apart the star’s muscled torso. Jamie screamed out in pain, grasping Tahmoh’s arm and trying to pry him away from his damaged core.
“We’re past the point of my putting you out of your misery quickly, so you only have two options left now. Submit, or I’ll break you down in a new way.”
Blood pouring down his face, Jamie spat blood, then weakly replied, “Fuck you still.”
Cradling Jamie in his arms, Tahmoh lifted the broken star up in the air again. “Moving on, then.” Twisting his body to bring Jamie’s legs high in the air, Tahmoh drove his opponent’s body into the mat in a devastating powerslam. Jamie reflexively arched his damaged back high in the air, as Tahmoh got to his feet. As Jamie writhed in pain on the mat, Tahmoh waited until Jamie was turned on his side. Then kicking him over on his stomach, Tahmoh straddled his prone opponent. Reaching down and grasping Jamie’s chin from behind, Tahmoh leaned back, securing Jamie’s muscled arms trapped across Tahmoh’s thighs. Using his height to its full advantage, Tahmoh leaned back, pressing with his thighs to bend Jamie backward in a camel clutch.
“I can sit here all day, you little fuck,” Tahmoh said calmly. Leaning backward further, Tahmoh used his full bodyweight to put maximum pressure on the small of Jamie’s back.
“Ahhhh!!!!” Jamie cried out in excruciating pain, blood pooling on the mat beneath his broken nose. “I can’t take it anymore! I submit!!!”
Tahmoh maintained the hold long enough to look over his shoulders and make eye contact with Eli. Then he dropped the defeated man face down on the mat. Coated in sweat soaking through his red tights, Tahmoh breathed heavily as he approached the ropes above where Eli sat. Resting his weight on his arms across the top rope, Tahmoh looked down at Eli. “I’ll take my prize now, Mr. Brody.”
One thought on “Producer’s Ring: Bamber vs. Penikett”
I wrote this sometime around 2009 or 2010 when I was obsessed with the hunks of Battlestar Galactica. The differences between the Focus Group series and the TV League included the TV matches taking place in a pro ring, and they tended to be more violent and a little less erotic. Though within group variability was pretty huge along those lines. Re-reading this match makes me crush all anew on Bamber and Penikett. I’m also pulling out my Battlestar Galactica DVDS.