Waves crash against the rocks, the sound of the cold ocean is akin to an old friend, an ally that has aligned itself to my cause. Far from the warm climates of the land I called home, I’ve taken the mantle of a nickname I loathe and turned it into a source of unassailable strength. A crisp wind rolls over the scene, penguins swimming about lazily amidst the cerulean blue water, various aquatic creatures hidden in the depths of this body of water.
“Such majesty as you swim in the waters you call home, the cold really doesn’t bother you does it?.”
Oswald’s words hung in the air, a contemplative expression filling out his features as he regarded the penguins, the noble birds from which he derived the name that would define his wrestling career.
Seagulls flew high overhead, their squawking filling the air.
Sheathed in warm, thick clothes reminiscent of the colour scheme of a penguin, dark probing eyes would peer into the foamy swirling water below.
Mere seconds later Oswald would be distracted from his staredown with the swirling water by the sound of a notification beep.
“Thanh Son Tran? What kind of name is that? Nevermind. Soon Mr Penguin shall take to the skies and introduce himself on the world’s stage”. Affable laughter did whir through the air following this statement.
The affable laughter soon turned into high mocking laughter echoing through the air, a contemplative sort of laughter that spoke of a deeper intelligence, the sort of intelligence born out of darkness, out of a need to constantly prove that you are someone to be feared.
A whisper of memory flashed through Oswald’s mind, harsh cutting cruel words back in his schoolyard days, then to his first job in his homeland, and finally it landed upon those who had claimed to be his friends, when the reality was he had been mocked behind his back. The laughter his former friends engaged in hadn’t lasted long…. Oswald had seen to that in a red haze of chaotic aggression.
“I got the last laugh…. Old friend. I survived and found my strength… while you all are six feet under, with hardly anyone knowing who you are.” Oswald spoke with such bitter contempt lacing his every word.
To Oswald’s mind there was a certain irony in that fact, how they had mocked him for being scrawny, undersized and a nobody. His former friends had always said that Oswald would find himself buried in an empty plot, his name forgotten.
“My name lives on… Very soon the entire world will come to know the perils of overlooking, mocking, the downtrodden. Thanh Son Tran…. You shall be the very first to fall to Mr Penguin. Try not to take this personally, it’s just business.”
//A nightclub somewhere downtown//
Oswald sat behind a thick oak table, a table laid with platters containing seafood, fruits and cheeses. A goblet of blood red wine sitting off to the side. Presently Oswald found himself sitting at the head of the table on a chair that resembled a throne. Oswald saw himself as a king, a figure that was rapidly gaining power in the criminal underworld.
“Mr Knight…. The criminal underworld rejoices at your return. Word has spread among the denizens of this city that you are pursuing a career as a professional wrestler? A strange choice of career to enter into.” Mused the pale, thin, gaunt nameless speaker who dared address ‘Mr Penguin’.
Oswald set the goblet down, his expression becoming icy, impenetrable.
“Cease your squawking, I’ve long since known…. That you have betrayed me….turncoat. How much did it take to get you to switch sides? How long have you been snitching to the police? For the record….my pursuit of a career in wrestling is a front to obscure the dealings I have in the underworld… a process you will no longer be a part of”.
Oswald gestured to a larger heavy handed male who was his personal executioner.
“I don’t care how you execute him… just make him go away” Oswald informed his executioner with a bored expression, his interest in a traitor in his ranks having simply eroded in minutes.
“You got it boss.” was all that was said in reply.
Soon thereafter the screams of a dying male soared into the air, bringing a chilling smirk to Oswald’s lips.
//Press conference, 11AM downtown. Monday Morning//
A thin male, decked out in an old fashioned suit stepped up to the podium tapping a microphone, a hum of feedback whining into the air.
???: “Good morning ladies and gentlemen. It is my dubious honour to introduce you to the one and only Oswald Knight. Some call him ‘Mr Penguin’. A funny name for a funny looking man”. The thin nameless male turned and presented Oswald with a fake oily smile that was designed to appear polite while being wholly insulting.
A single question was spoken aloud, by a tall heavily built male with short cropped black hair.
“What’s with the moniker of ‘Mr Penguin’? How is anyone supposed to take you seriously with a name like that”
Oswald paused, going still, his expression impassive, the temperature in the room dropping by at least five degrees.
“The name ‘Mr Penguin’ is something I was mocked for, I was undersized, I walked like a Penguin would. I decided to take what was considered a weakness and make it a symbol of strength. You’ve all had it easy for far too long, that changes now. As I rise…. Everyone else falls.”
The heavily built male went to speak, but was cut off by a single gesture from Oswald Knight.
Slowly Oswald approached, his form looked more like that of a Spheniscidae than that of a human. Reaching down Oswald drew out his signature umbrella, an innocent looking piece of equipment, nothing out of the ordinary.
Seconds would pass like sand through an hourglass, Oswald’s expression grew amused as he began to whack the larger male with the umbrella, eventually causing blood to drip down the side of his head.
“Who's laughing NOW!” Oswald roared, his temper getting the best of him.
Sounds of shrieking, screams of abject terror filled the air as Oswald watched people flee from his mere presence.
Oswald simply straightened up and smiled into the camera. “Sorry about that, lost control for a second” His tone was amiable as if he had not engaged in a display of brutality just seconds ago.
Turning on his heel, Oswald strode out of the press conference, shrill and cackling laughter echoing as he did.
Fade to black…