It was a dark, and stormy night and William Regal was livid that Mother Nature had decided to mess with his luscious hair. He sighed deeply, pushing his hands further into his pockets and continuing to walk through the parking lot to his car. The pounding of the rain on the floor below him was deafening and even for an old villain like him, the atmosphere made him uneasy.
He finally made it, cursing the elements. Opening the door, he almost leapt into the front seat, slamming the door behind him and leaning back with another heavy sigh.
“Bit wet, fella?” William jumped as he heard the unfamiliar voice in his ear. A rough, east end accent, almost like Danny Burch had given elocution lessons to the demon from The Exorcist. There was a roll of thunder, and then just the sound of the rainfall, for an uncomfortable few seconds, before the voice continued.
“Sorry mate, didn’t mean to scare ya.” He wanted to turn around, and face the stranger, but as much as he’d never admit it out loud, he was terrified. “Just didn’t wanna get lost in that sea of screaming ladies.” William finally got the courage to turn in his seat, it was a mixture of straight up bravery, or curiousity about the alleged hordes of fangirls that had finally noticed how good his hair looked. “Charming bloke like you…” The voice continued, from the darkness. All William could see was shadows, and two rows of glittering, menacing teeth, shining in the darkness, almost like fangs. “You must be fighting ‘em off with the old brass knucks.” The voice laughed heartily, and William could hear him pounding on the seats with amusement as he did. He shuddered, involuntarily and gripped his keys between his knuckles. While young rookies might write him off, there were still plenty of tricks up his well tailored sleeves, and if those hands were as big and menacing as they sounded, he was sure to need them.
“Who are you?” He asked cautiously, his hands beginning to shake a little, and his whole body tense.
Nature decided to answer, as a bolt of lightning suddenly flashed, illuminating the scene and showing what William was sure lived in the nightmare of his beloved, but unfortunate twin daughters. The figure was petite and covered in soft looking, caramel hair. A tail poked out of the ill fitting dungarees, and the back of them was torn, by a monstrous hunchback. A roll of thunder crashed around them, as the monkey looked up at William, pulling his grey flat cap down over dusky blue eyes, and lifting a tiny saxophone from the seat next to him. He pushed it between his lips, and the opening riff from George Michael’s classic, Careless Whisper filled the air. William had no idea how to react, and simply stared, in open mouthed silence as darkness fell again, and all he could see was the outline of the strange figure. As the lyrics would have kicked in, the music stopped, and there was nothing but the rainfall once more, before the haunting voice began again.
“Just thought it might lighten the mood.” He said, reaching up and switching on the lights inside the car. William stared blankly, unsure of what on earth could be said. “They call me Humphrey.” William just nodded, his eyes darting from the dungarees, to the flat cap, to the saxophone, now resting in his lap. “Mind if I smoke?” He took a packet of cigarettes from his front pocket and raised one to his mouth.
“Yes.” William watched in awe as Humphrey took a lighter from his pocket, raised it to the cigarette and lit up.
“You smoke, son?” William shook his head, as Humphrey seemed to ignore his earlier protests, and took a deep drag. “Good lad.” He exhaled slowly, trying to lean back and then seeming to remember his situation and leaning forward with a sigh. “We’re gonna need a roomier car, mate.” Humphrey leaned forward, almost nose to nose with William, who was pleasantly surprised that he smelt only of lynx, with an unexplained hint of lavender. “We’ve got a long way to travel.” He leaned back, swinging his legs against the seat, his little trainers were surprisingly spotless, considering. “And you won’t fit many of your ladies in here.”
William tentatively ran his fingers through his hair, hoping the monkey wasn’t looking for a place to stay. He could get out of most trouble, but explaining a talking monkey, with a smoking habit and a saxophone might be too much, even for him. “I don’t know…” He opened a window in an attempt to filter out some of the smoke, and continued. “It’s just, I was planning to head home, and I…” He ducked as Humphrey launched the cigarette over his head and out the window.
“We’re going to wrestlemania, boss.” Humphrey exhaled the last bit of smoke and leaned forward, ruffling William’s hair with one of his tiny, furry paws. “That Dean Ambrose gave me a ring.” He chattered excitedly before continuing. “He reckons it’s time you two had a bit of a wrestle.”