AS 104 - Cooper and Keaton versus Constantine & Abel Hunnicut
Submissions for this match should be submitted before Tuesday the 1st of March at 23:59 EST
Reinstate The Fox!
Remarkable Mark Keaton threw the official off of his chair outside the ring. He had heard the bell and it was too late, the match was over. Those phantom dudes were in the ring celebrating the win. He quickly folded the chair and slid inside the ring on his stomach, he ran up behind one of them....
... that should do it. The chair shot only made the creature stumble forward, with a cloud of disturbed fog curl away from the back of his shoulders. But it turned around, with glowing red eyes and an unnatural snarl on it’s dark lips....what the hell is....
Thump! He was pushed hard from behind and he stumbled out of the ring. He rolled around the floor and jumped to his feet quickly, only to see Cooper lying on his back in the ring and a dragon-like creature jumping off of the top rope....
The dragon-like creature froze in mid air....everything seemed to get darker, like a technician turned on the special dark colored lights in the arena. But Mark knew it was more than that, it had something to do with those unnatural creatures in the ring. The fans all lost their normal features and were replaced with blank, pale faces with dark cigar holes for eyes. Everything was paused like somebody ran up to the VCR and hit the pause button....except Cooper now. It seemed like his tag team partner was stirring on the mat, Mark could hear slight cracking. He put a hand on the second rope to attempt to crawl in the ring when Cooper’s body contorted in a twisting, freaky way. His arms twisted right around and he pushed himself to his feet with little effort despite all the cracking. Cooper twisted his head right around and shuffled towards Mark....
YOU DID THIS!
“Goddamn it! I’m sorry!” Mark Keaton screamed out as a book fell off of his lap and he could hear people let out little yelps nearby. He was on an airplane back to Detroit.
“Hey,” Norman Blip nodded as he leaned over the seat in front of him,“now that your up, think you could stop kicking my seat? I’m trying to enjoy my cup of tea.”
“No problem, Norm. I’m sorry. I was having a nightmare, dude.” Mark rubbed his eyes as the image of Cooper’s twisted neck was still burned into his mind.
Norman sat back down and continued to loudly sip his tea.
Mark kicked his seat hard, spilling the tea all over the place.
1 DAY LATER
Norman knocked on Mark Keaton’s apartment door, an attractive maid let him in.
“Mr. Keaton will be out in a moment, he’s busy with somebody right now.” The maid smirked and offered Norman a glass of iced tea. Norman accepted the glass and sat in the kitchen. He shook his head and closed his eyes, embarrassed in front of the maid as he could hear the springs of the bed in the bedroom squeaking loudly in rhythm.
“That’s right! That’s right!” He could hear a woman yell.
“OH yeah baby!” Mark yelled out.
Norman slightly smudged some of his wrestling make-up on the glass, he played with the paint on the glass for a moment,“Ahem. Good weather we’re having.”
“It’s really nice...” The maid tried but was cut off by the woman in the bedroom.
“Yippee!” Mark replied.
After a moment, the woman appeared in the kitchen, still buttoning up her shirt. Mark entered soon after with a big smirk on his face, pulling on a faded Van Halen shirt.
“Maybe next time, instead of jumping up and down on the bed in our underwear, we can actually have sex.” The woman said sweetly and left.
“That would rock.” Mark said as he lit a smoke, he poured himself a bowl of Lucky Charms. Norman watched him in silence as he ate the cereal while smoking at the same time.
“What’s kickin chicken?” Mark grumbled at Norman then let out a rude burp.
“I got you...”
“One second Norman. Darla, hey Darla.” Mark got the young maid’s attention as he held up a butter knife in his hand,“see this? This shouldn't be on the table. GET OUT!”
The maid cried, grabbed her things and left the apartment.
“You are pretty hard on your maids Mark.” Norman said as he watched the door close.
“Oh yeah baby. You know it!”
“Anyway, I got you a gig tomorrow on Detroit News in the Morning with Eugene Watson and Samantha Beckford.” Norman smiled and took a drink of his iced tea.
“Eugene Watson is THE news of Detroit man! That’s a big deal! Good job Norm!”
The Detroit News had several different shows, Detroit News at 6, Detroit News at Lunch , Detroit News Around Supper and Detroit News at 10. But the most popular show is the one featured by the best anchorman Detroit ever had........
Click for Spoiler:
....the man was legendary indeed. Norman Blip and Mark Keaton watched all the activity behind the scenes at The Detroit News in the Morning with Eugene Watson and Samantha Beckford sound stage and main desk. There were cameramen checking equipment, boom operators getting into position and make-up staff attending to Eugene and Samantha Beckford.
Eugene’s Co-Anchor was just a rookie, but learning the ropes fast.....
Click for Spoiler:
“God she’s hot. Tsk, tsk, tsk.” Norman shook his head as he stared at Samantha. Mark laughed and looked around to see if their contact was going to get them prepared for the show. He wondered why Norman wasn't concerned with this.
“Why aren’t you concerned with this?” Mark asked out loud.
“Huh?” Norman scratched his head.
Then Mark saw him....his breath was taken out of his lungs instantly......
Click for Spoiler:
“Dude,” Mark pointed to Patrick,“what the hell is he doing here?”
Norman waved it off nervously,“Ah, don’t worry about him. He’s a guest they’re using after we've been on. They must be using him for the lunch show.”
Good Morning Detroit! This is...DETROIT NEWS in the MORNING with Eugene Watson and Samantha Beckford !!
“Good Morning Detroit,” Eugene let out a huge trademark smile,“I’m Eugene Watson....”
There was an awkward pause....
“I’m Eugene Watson....” He gave Samantha another stink eye and waved his hand impatiently.
“And...I’m Samantha Beckford?”
“And welcome to Detroit News in the morning! Let’s get right down to it people, we have some news and a few very special guests later on here.”
“That...that is right Eugene. We have Maurice Keaston and Norman Blop. We also...”
“I’m sorry, that’s Mark Keaton and Norman Blip. Heh heh. You must be nervous Samantha because Mark is known as Remarkable Mark Keaton in the wrestling show WZCW. He’s a big tough guy, ha ha ha.”
“And here’s whats in the news right now....Parish on Main St are having trouble gaining new members after a major scandal involving money laundering and gambling. Pastor Cleal Mojoff is planning on confusing the corrupt community by turning the Christian church into a Jewish church.”
“And the trouble at...at Green St School is....umm. The trouble is still there. The teacher there said something about trouble. I hope they can get out of trouble Eugene, HA!”
“Thanks Samantha. The Wasteland Gang has continued terrorizing the rich in Detroit. Mayor Trench Gaston has beefed up The Detroit Police budget, including a really expensive police car for Sheriff Kinrad. The tax paying public are outraged at the price tag, rumors are swirling the Sheriffs car topples one million dollars.”
“That...that is a pile of money Eugene. Right?”
“Yes Samantha, that is indeed a big sum of money.” Eugene shuffled some papers hard on his desk.
“When we come back, we have some very special guests in the studio.”
--------- The commercial begins ---------------
Eugene ripped off his microphone that was clipped to his shirt,”How the fuck did you ever get hired by any news program?! Jesus you suck!”
“Hey! Are you talking about me?”
“YES! Yes you dumb, ugly looking shithead! Stop making me look stupid on camera! For the love of god can we take away her lines? Larry! Larry, can we at least take away her lines! I swear the hell she can’t read!”
Mark elbowed Norman as they were getting micced up at the desk.
“Dude is losing his mind.” Mark whispered and Norman snickered.
Mark’s expression immediately soured as he noticed Patrick The Bulldog Adams was also getting a Mic put on one of his multicolored suits. They positioned him right next to the wrestling-make up wearing Norman Blip.
“Why are they putting a Mic on HIM Norman? This is NOT going to end well!” Mark whispered right into his mentor’s ear.
“And welcome back, we have wrestling mentor Norman Blip with us, as well as Remarkable Mark Keaton and Patrick Adams.”
“Patrick The Bulldog Adams Eugene, ha ha ha!” Patrick announced, loudly.
“I hear....wrestling is not real.” Samantha tried to chime in, everyone ignored her.
“Mark, tell us about your journey into professional wrestling.” Eugene flashed his trademark smile for all the old woman who watch the show.
“Well, first off Eugene man, I’m a big fan of your show dude. It’s like, totally the best thing on television in Detroit.”
“Well, thanks Mark. You’re my favorite wrestler! Ha ha!”
“Well, I always watched pro wrestling. When I was a boy I...”
“O.K, O.K. Enough of this crap. Let’s squash the back story Mark. Why don’t you look into the camera and tell the world why you’ll be the one to let down your tag team! Tell them that COOPER is the one holding the team together and your just riding along, happy to suck his winning tit!”
“Don’t tell them that Mark.”
“Well duh Norman. I know why your here Patrick dude, this whole controversy attitude thing ain’t gonna cut it with me. Cooper and Keaton win because we are a great team, the two of us!”
“How many wrestlers felt the wrath of your finishing move? Huh? I can’t hear you Mark? You know why Eugene?”
“Well, I don’t think he’s used his finisher on anyone yet. That’s right isn’t it?”
“That’s right! Mark Keaton depends on Justin Cooper to win the match! He’d NEVER make it alone in a singles career!”
“Well, we have a surprise for everyone in Detroit this morning. Coming to you live via Satellite, it’s none other than Mark Keaton’s tag team partner...Justin Cooper!”
A graphic opens up revealing Justin Cooper complaining to someone off camera about the Mic positioning.
“Justin....Justin can you hear me?”
“Hello Eugene, glad to be on the show with such a classy news Anchor. How are you?”
“I’m fine Justin. We are here with your tag team partner Mark Keaton, his mentor Norman Blip and Patrick Adams.”
The graphic showed Justin Cooper waiting for the response. The satellite delay was really bad.
“Yes, while we await Justin’s really delayed response, lets talk with Mark’s mentor, Norman Blip. Now Norman, where did...”
“Mark Keaton, although young, he’s very athletic and has been a great tag team partner so far. He’s learning the ropes really fast and with his help, we will be the new tag team champions.”
“Let ME ask Cooper some questions Eugene. Hey Cooper! How does it feel to have an inferior tag team partner! Somebody SO green he didn’t even know who he was facing during one of the shows! Admit it! The guy sucks!”
Justin Cooper sat there and shrugged his shoulders, the delay made him wait for a response again.
“Why don’t you chill out a little dude. You’re starting to get under my skin.”
“Why don’t you QUIT while your ahead? You don’t stand a CHANCE at those titles Mark!”
“Well, heh heh, let’s just settle down a bit guys. I wanted to ask Norman Blip a question here. So Norman...”
“How does it feel to...”
“No he doesn’t suck Patrick! You know who sucks?! You suck for being alive, you annoying pile of shit (bleep!) When was the last time a sports show kept you around? Huh? NEVER assho (bleep!) You haven’t kept ONE job as a sports commentator because YOU SUCK! Hey Keaton, give this guy a strategy five, dash section thirty two.” Justin Cooper ripped off his Mic and ordered the feed to end.
“Well, that was an interesting....HEY! Don’t!!”
Mark Keaton jumped out of his chair and grabbed Patrick Adams, he gave him a Very Rude Awakening on the carpet behind the desk!
“Oh, that’s gotta hurt!”
“Well,” Eugene adjusted his tie,”this has been another interesting interview segment on...hey! Hey don’t do that!”
Mark Keaton pushed over the entire desk, sending papers and plugged in microphones all over the floor in a loud crash!
“This just in! Constantine and Abel Hunnicut will lay BEATEN at the feet of Remarkable Mark KEATON!” Mark yelled at the camera and gave the devil horns with both hands.
----------------Camera’s off ------------------
“Get him! Dammit! Where are those police?!”
“And I’m Samantha Beckford?”
The Detroit police filled the studio, Mark Keaton let out a big snarling smirk as they ran over and placed handcuffs on him. The door slammed from a distance, cowboy boots clicked on the floor as Sheriff Kinrad walked on to the scene.
“Boy oh boy!” Kinrad laughed right in Mark’s face,”you went un made me a happy man today! Yessireeee. You have tha right ta remain silent. Anythang you say or do will be...”
“I’m waving my right to be silent sheriff! I was provoked dude!”
“Aw shuttup boy!” Kinrad jabbed Mark hard in the gut with a nightstick.
“Take em downtown!”
1 DAY LATER
Mayor Trench Gaston stood at the cell door of Remarkable Mark Keaton, he watched the rocker sleeping peacefully in his cot.
Click for Spoiler:
“Wake up Mark!” Trench growled.
Mark fell out of his cot onto the floor. He did a kip up, showing off and walked to the cell bars.
“Stop screwing up. I’m letting you out of here, only because your my wife’s favorite wrestler and you can’t wrestle while your in jail. Now smarten the hell up and stop getting into so much trouble!”
“No problem, mayor dude. But I think there’s OTHER reasons why you’re letting me out. Mysterious reasons.”
“Oh shut up! Go and do Detroit proud, win those tag team titles and I’ll hold a parade in your honor the very next week.” Trench allowed a slight smile and walked into the distance down the hallway.
2 HOURS LATER
Mark walked into the sunlight, he cried and fell to his knees. He kissed the ground over and over just outside the Detroit jail house. Sheriff Kinrad watched him with disgust from a park bench nearby. Kinrad tore huge chunks out of his sub, not taking his eyes off of the rock and roller.
Norman Blip rolled up in a little blue Triumph Acclaim.
Mark gave Kinrad a smirk and jumped in the car. “I finally get to see the Normanmobile! This car rocks dude!”
“Don’t touch anything, it’s my wife’s car and she just cleaned it not long ago.”
There was a strange, bleeping noise coming from Mark’s hip. Mark unbuckled his seat belt, took his jacket off and reached into a pouch on his side, he heaved the huge car phone from the pouch and held it to his ear.
“Keaton talkin, you talkin?”
“You’re Very Rude Awakening is all over Youtube.”Cooper laughed on the phone.
“That was for you Cooper! That was for our last match when you saved me.”
“You have to watch it Mark,”Cooper’s tone got serious,”we don’t have a weak wheel in our next match, it’s you and me against these guys, we....hold on, this guy is trying to outbid me on this chair I want....”
“....this chair I want....”
Mark Keaton threw the official off of his chair, the man tumbled over and fell by the barricade. The bell was ringing, he folded the chair and slid into the ring on his stomach. He ran over to one of the POC..... CRACK!!! .....that was a good one, he better go down! But he only stumbled forward! The demon turned around.... Mark Keaton quickly spun around and held a hand in Cooper’s face, Justin stopped his pushing attempt..... “We’ll fight these guys, and we’ll fight these guys working as a team! You don’t have to worry about me anymore Cooper, I’ll watch your back as much as you’ve been watching mine.” With that, Mark turned and stood side by side with Cooper as the demons roared towards them, they were ready to fight, the shapeless pale faces of the crowds changed back to normal as the war began.....
“...so that’s what I said to them in the end. What do you think?”
“I think the nightmare is over dude!”
Join WZCW now.
The scene opens backstage at the 58th Annual Grammy Awards. Such a cheerful occasion for many as the big stars pack into a room wearing overpriced clothing that most of the time looks ridiculous. We are far removed from all that, instead we’re in the trenches of the backstage area. It’s filled with producers running wild, camera men scrambling to get in position and a few big names have found their way back here before they step onto the stage to present various awards.
It’s the biggest night in music and tonight history is in the making as Justin Cooper returns to the Grammy stage. The wrestling superstar (well superstar isn’t exactly the word some would use but just go with it) has thrown on a fine looking suit for this special occasion. It’s been many years since Justin has stepped out onto the Grammy stage and nearly a decade since he last preformed.
He missed that feeling of preforming onstage. Wrestling was entirely different for him, sharing the spotlight with another wasn’t his game but with music it allowed Justin to be the centre of attention. He became the most important thing in the world while everyone else was secondary. He had longed for this chance to return to music but his wrestling commitments had kept him out of the loop for years. His exit from the industry was hardly smooth, lawsuits and press conferences tainted a wonderful career in music but now that was to be forgotten.
Justin and Iris sat backstage in a dressing room, no it wasn’t private, waiting for their cue.
Iris: You ready for this?
Justin: They say it’s like riding a bike. Hopefully I can just pick up from where I left off.
Iris: I always did really like the last album. Had a nice sound to it.
Justin: I did to. Still holds the record for most albums ever sold in a year.
Iris: I made my first million off that album. Good times.
Justin: We’ve been through a lot. The beginning of my music career, the wrestling, the lack of employment and now we’re coming full circle on this thing. It’s kind of poetic.
Iris: I feel like if we were real men we’d be comfortable hugging it out at this point.
Justin: I once hugged Bowen. I’m still trying to get the smell out of my clothes. No more hugging. I don’t hug.
Iris: Fair enough. Anyway, I want to cover what you’re going to say out there tonight when you present the award. Just keep it clean, say how thankful you are to the organization for having you back and thank the fans for sticking with you. That’s what they want, it’s what WZCW wants and it’s what I want. You’ll keep everyone happy if you just smile and say thank you. Don’t go too far and don’t make anyone angry. You know some of these people are sensitive and we don’t want to get a bad reputation around here.
Justin tries to fix his tie but does so unsuccessfully while breaking out into laughter.
Justin: How worse off can our reputation get? You’re the agent for the guy who was kicked out of the music industry and someone who could likely face the same fate in professional wrestling. We aren’t exactly the most loveable characters over here. People cheer when I’m wrong. They pop when I lose.
Iris: I know it’s not like everyone wants to be on our team but we do have Mark Keaton. Plus, if all goes well tonight and you follow the instructions than I’m sure more people are going to be on our side.
Justin: We definitely need some more support. It’s vital considering we’ve got a maniac on the loose with Ty just blatantly breaking the rules in front of the referee. He just goes and breaks the rules, hits me with that stupid kick to the face and nobody says a damn thing because he’s Ty Burna and he’s big bad and scary. Well... that might be true but I think his eye shadow is stupid.
Iris: What’s the big benefit of having support?
Justin: Strength in numbers and considering that Ty is the strongest of them all, no matter how much of a coward he is for attacking me twice while I wasn’t ready, we need all the help we can get. It doesn’t matter who we get on our side, we just need as many as we can get. That’s one of the reason I agreed to do this.
Tonight when I get out there and I’ve got a microphone in my hands I’m going to put out the call for a united front against the coward Ty Burna. The world will united and join forces against this man who clearly has no respect for his peers. I tried to offer my hand as a sign of respect between two veterans but he ignored me. He brushed me aside like I was some rookie. How dare he disrespect the House of Cooper!
Some fat kid might feel empowered by my words tonight and attend the pay per view where they’ll throw a bottle at Ty’s head causing a distraction and then I’ll pin the bastard! It’s a full proof plan if I do say so myself.
Iris: Maybe we should just focus on getting through this night before coming up with plans for Ty. I get it that you’re annoyed he disrespected you but...
Hands go flying in the air, Justin jumps up onto his feet.
Justin: Annoyed?! That’s not the word to describe the situation, my friend. Ty Burna completely disrespected everything I’ve accomplished in this sport. He treated me like I was some nobody. I offered him respect, I believe he had earnt that but then he shows his true colours when he spits the respect I offered right back in my face. He never respected me and I was foolish for ever giving him such a curtsey.
I’ll never make that mistake again because next time I’m not going to hesitate. The next time I get a chance I’m going to smash that steel chair right across his damn head! Then he’ll have to respect me. Then I’ll get the respect I deserve.
The plans for tonight have been laid but a late change of plans may throw them out of whack. Justin and Iris continue to talk until they’re joined by a man who introduces himself as Producer Ken and it appears he’ll be the one overseeing Justin’s segment at the Grammys.
Producer Ken: Not a lot of time to talk. Lots of stuff going on right now. Focus! Listening? Good. Ok, so you’re in the next segment so you’ll need to proceed to entrance B. It’s right over there near the yellow tape. Now you’re going to be joined by S.Mouse, he’s a rapper from Australia. Big star from what I hear.
Justin: Slap yo elbow.
Producer Ken: Now you guys will be presenting the Grammy for ‘Best Foreign Language Album’ so we don’t have a lot of time. You will not be speaking out there. Just stand next to S.Mouse and let him do the talking. He knows what to say and we didn’t have enough time for you to get a speaking role on the show. Good? Good. See you later.
Justin: Hang on a minute, mate. I was expecting to get a chance to say something on this show. It’s my return to music for the first time in years. People surely want to hear what I’ve got to say.
Producer Ken: Oh yes, they will but we’ve got some lovely people who will do interviews with you later and put them on the website. It’ll be fantastic and you’ll love it.
Justin: No, I don’t think so. I want to say something out there on the main show. What’s the point of me being here if I don’t say anything?
Producer Ken: You’re just not a big enough star. We need to save these talking segments for the real deals in the industry. Not everyone is going to talk, deal with it.
Justin is furious. He looks ready to attack the producer but Iris jumps in and tries to calm his friend down.
Iris: You’ve got to relax. We have a job to do tonight and you can’t go out there and mess up. Keep your head on straight.
Producer Ken: Keep calm. S.Mouse has been on the show three times tonight and he’s cool calm and collected. Just follow his lead and believe me he didn’t even suggest any of this. He’s just such a natural.
Blood is boiling for Justin, he’s been shafted moments before his big return to music. The producer exits the area, leaving Iris and Justin alone once again.
Justin: I’m just going to stand there like some idiot. Completely ignored, no respect, just like what Ty did to me last week. Does nobody understand I’m a veteran! I’m a damn champion! I demand respect! I’ve earnt it!
Iris: Calm down. You have to relax. A national television audience is waiting and you can’t go out there angry.
Justin: They want me to just stand there? Not a chance, I’m going to show them all! You don’t poke me and expect not to be poked back.
Justin storms towards the entrance to the stage and bursts through the curtain. Iris can only watch on as his friend, enraged by the notion that he’s not a big enough star to deserve a talking segment at the Grammys, could be on his way to a career ending moment.
Announcer: And now our next presenters, they are both Grammy winners, S.Mouse and professional wrestling star, Justin Cooper!
Call centre level holding music plays as Justin and S.Mouse walk onto the stage. The lights are extremely bright, so much so that Justin nearly trips over having not experienced this setup for so many years. They reach the podium without any major disasters and S.Mouse begins his scripted role.
S.Mouse: Yo, sup? It’s ya boi S Dot Mouse, SMOUSE, and I’m here at the Grammy Awards with some very important information for all of ya’ll.
Justin can only watch on as this idiot continues to make a mockery out of the most prestigious night in music.
S.Mouse: T’night, ya’ll gonna hear some of the freshest beats in all of hip-hop when SMOUSE and da crew hit the stage later t’night.
It’s gonna be off the freaking chain, dawg!
The crowd cheers wildly for the hottest sensation in rap today. S.Mouse fist pumps in the air but Justin looks like he’s about to be sick. His hands are on his head, he can barely stand still and he keeps looking back and forth between the microphone and the security surrounding the stage. Will he do the unthinkable and go off the script?
S.Mouse: I see all mah homies in the crowd t’night. We takin’ over the Grammy Awards t’night like it’s bush week! So errybody get yo elbows out and get ready to slap dem!
Suddenly Justin pushes S.Mouse out of the way, knocking the superstar to the ground. Cooper rushes towards the microphone as security are already swarming the stage.
Justin: I will not be silenced! I demand respect from everyone. I’m a veteran of not just music but also wrestling. Ty Burna you cowardly sack of crap, you dare put your hands on me? I’m just like you and yet you treat me like some common place joke.
Security begins pulling Cooper away from the microphone. Four of them, one on each arm and leg begin dragging him out but the wrestling superstar will not shut up as he screams out.
Justin: I knew this would happen! I predicted it, I know everything you’re going to do! I knew this would happen! Ty Burna sucks, Constantine sucks and Abel Hunnicut. Chris K.O. still sucks as always... everyone sucks.
Cooper is hurried backstage by the security. He tries to kick himself free but these men are just too strong for him. While being escorted out of the building Justin sees Mark Keaton and The Three Smokes Band! His tag partner has a big smile on his face alongside three other men who are dressed like they’re about to play live.
Justin: Hey, that’s my tag partner! Put me down you idiots. I know that guy!
Mark: See you later, buddy! I got the boys and I a gig at the awards show. Norman Blip is really working out for me.
The security doesn’t stop, they proceed and toss Justin out of the building into a back alley. He flies through the air and lands on some trashcans. The only thing worse than his suit at this moment could be his back. He’s unable to move, barely able to lift his arm after the hard fall. Justin lays in pain, alone in the alley, while the sound of his tag partner Mark Keaton and his band preforming live at the Grammys echoes out onto the streets.
Fifteen minutes have passed since Justin was thrown out of the 58th Annual Grammy Awards. He’s still stuck amongst the trash cans in the back alley. He tries to get up but it’s no use. The security did a number on him this time.
If only we had some way of helping our hero out of this situation. Suddenly the exit to the arena opens up once again and out walks Mark Keaton. Covered in 1980’s style glitter, the rocker struts out into the alley and lets out a loud “Oh yeah” as he approaches his tag partner.
Mark: You should have seen the show. It was insane. The boys and I were rocking out and the place was going mental. It was the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen and it’s thanks to our tag team. Things are really looking up for me because of this little partnership.
Justin: I’m in a lot of pain right now. Do you mind?
Mark goes over to his partner and helps Justin to his feet. Still unable to stand by himself, Justin leans against a wall before turning his head towards Mark.
Justin: How’d you even get on the show?
Mark: I just sent in an idea to them. You said you were going to be on the show so I thought why not try and see if I could get a segment. They loved the idea and decided to go for it.
Mark: I know and then I cut this promo on Constantine and Abel for this week. You know, hype up the match a little bit.
Justin: They let you cut a promo and perform live?
Mark: Yeah, I pitched both ideas and they wanted to see both of them. I’m surprised you didn’t get more time on screen considering you were all excited to be here.
Justin: I thought they’d want to mix it up a bit and not just reuse the same performers from show to show.
Mark: Ouch. Bad move.
Justin looks unimpressed. He tries to take a step forward but he’s still in too much pain.
Justin: So, what was this promo on Constantine and Abel like?
Mark: Well, I tried to keep it to a minimum on the insults since I know you don’t like me saying...
Justin: I told you before about the insults. It only matters if they came before me. Abel isn’t someone I respect. He turned up a few months ago and now they think he deserves to step into the ring with me? Even right now, sore as all hell, I’d be able to take him on. I’ve taken on the very best in this sport and I’ve lived to speak about it. I survived much worse than anything this newbie can throw at me.
Even his teacher isn’t someone I respect. I know, it goes against my rule but honestly every rule has an exception. Steven Holmes is the exception to the rule. The only thing worse than overrated newbies are boring champions and my god was he boring. Suffering through a title reign which resulted in one of the worst Kingdom Come main events of all time truly knocks him off the list as someone I respect. To think that Abel comes from his breed of style, it could put me to sleep just thinking about it.
I mean we all take things differently. I took my knee injury at Kingdom Come III as a sign that I needed some time off. I took time off and then I returned and won three championships in the company. Steven Holmes hurts his back, an injury I’m likely to have after those idiot security guards threw me into these bins, and he just goes right along and creates the next boring freak I’ve got to put up with. Yay, another thing to remind us all of Holmes. If I wanted an overrated title reign I’d remember Big Dave’s title run.
Mark: Constantine seems like he could be some trouble this week. Considering he really wants to get that win back over you.
Justin: John is definitely the better of the two. I’ve not been in contact with John for a long time, partially because I blame him for my partnership with Alex Bowen. If not for John than maybe I wouldn’t have been poisoned by that fool and I may have ascended onto greater things in my second run with the company. Alas, it was not meant to be but what was meant to be was my ultimate triumph over John.
In a single night I did something nobody in the history of this business could have ever dreamed of. While Ty Burna tried to corrupt minds and failed miserably to do so, even a mind as weak as K.O. managed to break his spell, I was able to get millions of fans around the world to vote me into the Chirs K.O. Open Challenge at Unscripted.
I was able to hold the will of millions in the palm of my hands and that is far more than anything Ty Burna or John has ever done. Whether it be a pitiful empire which crumbled with days or a bunch of geeks pretending to be apostles. I caused change that night and I defeated two men who were believed to be future World Champions! I watched as the dream match of John vs. Chris burned before the world’s eyes and suddenly it was replaced by an image of my victory. I stood above both of them, victorious not just over them but over the entire world. I beat them both in one night in a match that was never supposed to happen.
Mark: Unlike last week we don’t have Garth Black dragging us down. We could use this to send a message to Ty and his pet dragon that we’re not a duo to be taken lightly. Show the world that we’re rightful contenders to the tag team throne.
Justin: Oh yes, this week is much more than just a match for us. This week we can take our spot as the future World Tag Team Champions when we put John and Abel to the sword just like I do to John four years ago. Four years, Elite X and World Championships later and I still haunt his dreams.
John still cannot get over the night. He hopes that this week he’ll gain some redemption for his biggest failure. For whatever reason John believes that beating me now will somehow erase the damage done in the past. My victory over him is everlasting and even beating us this week isn't going to change the past.
Mark: We’re the only real team in this battle. They can’t just put two people together and expect us to lose. Abel and John may not even be able to work together while we’re tested against the best the division has to offer. Individual goals are likely to overpower those of the team.
Justin: Believe me, John is going to stop at nothing to beat me. He’d throw Abel under the bus to get his revenge on me. I suspect he’d sacrifice his shot at the World Championship to get to me. I’m that important for John. To remove the stain on his legacy may even drive John to insanity. This team may destroy themselves but nevertheless we must be prepared. You take Abel and I’ll take John. His issue is with me and I will not risk him doing something stupid to injure you as a way to further get back at me. Watch your knees and protect yourself at all times. These two are likely to get ugly and we can’t afford to go into the title match wounded.
And one more thing, my position on Ty may have changed in terms of respect but do not mistake that as me taking him lightly inside the ring.Ty Burna is still the most powerful force in the history of professional wrestling and it appears we’ve pissed him off.
Fade to black.
Constantine wakes up as the sun light pours in the window. The harsh rays from the sun only serve to exacerbate the pains in his head as he drags himself from his place of slumber. Turning around to look down at his bed, Constantine is immediately shocked to see a bathtub with a few towels crumpled together to form a makeshift pillow of sorts. Closing his eyes and rubbing his temples, Constantine allows a groan to escape from his mouth. Stepping over the lip of the bathtub, Constantine immediately slips a little on the floor. Regaining his balance, Constantine continues across the wet floor until the source of the liquid is found. Cognac, and lots of it. 2 bottles lie open on the tiled floor.
Constantine: What happened last night!?
Shaking his head in disbelief, Constantine opens the door of the hotel room bathroom that leads to the bedroom. There, on the bed, lies a motionless Steven Holmes; his snoring at least signifying that he is alive. Constantine stands in the doorway, surveying the damage to his bedroom; lying in disarray, and contemplating the damage to his liver. Constantine makes his was over the clothes and mess on the bedroom floor until he reaches the open doorway to the living room of the hotel suite. There, Constantine plants himself down on the couch and rests his head against the smooth cushion behind him. Taking a deep breath in and out, he grabs the TV remote and switches on the TV on the far wall. Only half listening, Constantine keeps his eyes closed as he tries to come to terms with the night before.
Reporter: And now onto a more light-hearted story from the world of professional wrestling. WrestleZone Championship Wrestling has crossed the border into Canada for their upcoming shows at The Rogers Arena. And if you thought that they were going to come quietly, then you're quite mistaken.
Constantine huffs as the harsh tone of the female reporter plays havoc with the pain in his head.
Reporter: Some of the wrestlers from the world renowned company cut loose a little in Vancouver last night, drinking and partying in a local 80's bar and eventually causing a scuffle. WZCW wrestle-
With that, Constantine switches the TV off and immediately feels the relief of it. For a few moments, there is nothing but silence in the hotel room of The Power Trip. Suddenly, a crashing sound comes from the room that Constantine just emerged from. Not moving at all, Constantine allows the loud noises to continue before Steven Holmes emerges from the doorway in only the bottom half of his sharp suit and a tie around his neck. Holmes puts one hand against the door frame and puts the other hand to his aching head.
Holmes: What the bloody hell happened last night, John boy?
Constantine opens his eyes and looks to his immediate right; finding the proper sight for sore in eyes in a very hungover Steven Holmes looking back at him. Shrugging his shoulders lamely, Constantine closes his eyes again and begins to drift off into a peaceful slumber.
Holmes: BLOODY HELL!!
Constantine's attempt at a peaceful slumber disappear suddenly as Holmes falls backwards against the floor' his voice still ringing in the ears of the most successful Elite Openweight Champion in history. Constantine's eyes fly open as he springs from the couch in sheer fright; looking down at the Elite and then shooting his gaze across the room. The fright begins to subside as Constantine doesn't seem to notice anything alarming.
Constantine: What is it, Holmes?!
Holmes looks almost stunned at the tone and ignorance of The Power Trip as he turns his head in disbelief towards Constantine. Turning his head between Constantine and the thing that seems to frighten him so, Holmes begins to crawl backwards.
Holmes: Are you joking, John? There a ruddy massive snake on the bloody kitchen table!
The sheer mention of a snake sends Constantine onto his heels; moving further away from the table subconsciously as he does. Scanning the room, first of all to find the kitchen table, Constantine finally sees the massive python and falls back on his ass quicker than he shot up. Constantine shoots a frightened look towards Holmes as both men do their best to reclaim their breath against separate walls.
Constantine: How the hell did that get in here, Holmes?!
Holmes: How the bloody hell should I know, John. It's your hotel room!
Constantine reaches for something on the table beside him as he refuses to take his eyes off of the massive snake perched upon the fine wooden table in the middle of the dining area. Pressing at the buttons by touch sense alone, Constantine waits for an answer.
Constantine: Uh, hello, reception... I'm going to need you to fetch me a local pet rescue company...
With that, the face of the Power Trip turns venomous.
Constantine: Yes, I said a pet rescue company, you moron!... Because I have a massive snake on my bloody dining room table... Yes, penthouse...
With that Constantine tosses the phone to one side and looks towards Holmes; who also looks back at Constantine with a look of sheer fright.
Holmes: What did they say, old boy?
Constantine: They said that they'd sent someone over in a bit.
Holmes shakes his head in disbelief as he turns his attention back to the hissing reptile that currently occupies the space next to his Weet-a-bix.
Holmes: And what do we do until then...?
Constantine looks at Holmes with a look of concern before turning his own attention back towards the snake.
An hour later...
The knock at the door comes as a massive relief to Holmes and Constantine as both men jump with an immediate start. In the hour that they had waited, silence had consumed them as thoughts of danger and death filled their minds. With the door on the opposite side of the room, Constantine yells out in panic.
Constantine: Come in!
With that, a card being inserted into the lock can be heard and the door swings open; revealing an employee of the hotel and a man with a long pole and rucksack over his shoulder. The look of fright on the employee's face is only matched by the look of sheer excitement and pleasure on the face of the animal recovery agent. Moving inside the room freely, the agent seems comfortable with his surroundings and the killing machine that rests on the table.
Man: There she is!
Constantine: Yep, that's the one! Take her out of here immediately!
The recovery man allows himself a chuckle as Constantine and Holmes slowly slide up the walls to reclaim their vertical base. The recovery agent moves towards the snake as it begins hissing violently.
Man: You're not scared of little Gretl here, are you?
Holmes and Constantine each share a look between the two as the agent fires the incredulous question towards them.
Holmes: Little Gretl? Are you serious? That thing has to be at 10 feet long at full length, you imbecile!
The recovery agent lets out a sharp laugh as he raises his eyebrows in shock. Putting one hand on the body of the snake, the agent seems to very comfortable holding her. Moving towards her face now, Constantine feels a massive swell of anticipation and fear build in his throat.
Man: 11, actually. But little Gretl here is harmless, chaps. I'd have thought you'd have known that. I mean, you did steal her from us last night.
Holmes and Constantine share what is fast becoming their trademark look of confusion as the man runs one of his hands down the head of the snake; so much so that she almost seems content on the table. The man smiles at her as he looks her dead in the eye; seemingly uncaring of the fact that Holmes and Constantine are in a state of confused panic.
Constantine: How dare you accuse us of that, you buffoon. Steven Holmes and I are two of the best Champions that WZCW has ever seen. But beyond that, we are two me of extraordinary intelligence.
Holmes' pleas fall of deaf ears as Constantine goes off on one.
Constantine: We have been to all four corners of this great world and we have climbed the highest of mountains in each of them. We are men of true integrity and for you to just waltz in here and accuse of this crime without any proof is just-
Constantine turns his head to Holmes in a flurry of rage.
Holmes goes silent for a moment; his head and thoughts sobering by the second.
Holmes: Where is Abel?
The Power Trip spins his head around the room looking for the great man monster; a look of discomfort and anxiety suddenly crossing the features of The Elite. Holmes hurriedly goes back into the room in a state of panic as the pet agent pulls his mobile phone from his pocket and scrolls through numerous screens. After a moment, he walks towards Constantine with a video playing on the phone. In the video, a seemingly inebriated John Constantine and Steven Holmes drunkenly bundle over a security fence. The agent takes the phone from the face of Constantine and uses his finger to fast forward the footage before thrusting it back towards him. In the video, Constantine can be seen feeding the snake through the bars to his criminal counterpart.
Constantine: I-I am so sorry...
Man: Ah, no harm done, I guess. In fact, we all had a good laugh about this morning. I mean, it's not as if we didn't know who you were.
At that, Holmes emerges from the rooms; the same look of concern on his face as before.
Holmes: He's not here, John boy. He's not bloody here!
Constantine ponders things for a second before turning back to the pet agent suited all in green.
Constantine: There didn't happen to be a massive dirty red-neck in Gretl's place, did there?
Man: Hunnicut? Nope. I watch WZCW and I could tell you if Abel was anywhere near that sanctuary. I had a good look around this morning, too. He definitely isn't there. But in the video you talk about visiting a music studio and something about Justin Cooper.
A disappointed look crosses the features of Constantine and Holmes as the man grabs the snake and puts her around his shoulders. Offering both of the former World Champions an arrogant smile before leaving, the man suddenly disappears and the door shuts; leaving Constantine and Holmes alone with their thoughts.
Holmes: He can't be out there, John. He's a monster who's only purpose is to destroy anything and everything that comes between him and his goals. We have to find him.
Constantine searches his brain before his thoughts begin to make sense...
Reinstate The Fox!
Last edited by GET THESE HANDS! : 03-01-2016 at 08:16 PM.
A quiet street in downtown Vancouver, British Colombia where cars pass by at moderate speed. People are quiet and courteous in the early hours and beyond. Pets and their owners are out for a quiet Sunday stroll without a care in the world. The sun has begun to rise from the buildings and all is well in the world. Enter: Steven Holmes and John Constantine, the two men still dressed in their dishevelled attire from the previous evening, bursting forth from their hotel.
Constantine storms ahead while Holmes has to limp frantically, dragging his weary soul into the Pacific coast daylight. He squints, the light burning his nocturnal senses. If Constantine shares these symptoms he keeps them well guarded. He appears all business in spite of his ruined suit. “The Powertrip” stops and soaks in the city, waiting as “The Elite” waddles up behind him, already out of breath.
Holmes: This isn’t going to work John. Oh good grief.
Constantine: Sucking wind already Holmes?
As the former politician grins slyly, Holmes, now doubled over regaining breath, shoots him a dirty look, still panting. Constantine knows that his ally is right; Holmes’ physical condition combined with both their staggering hangovers are going to cripple any search attempt for the man beast known as Abel Hunnicutt. Then as he begins to stand up straight Holmes brings up yet another factor working against them:
Holmes: How exactly are we going to find him John? ‘Excuse me, have you seen a lumbering seven foot sociopath covered in scars and wearing a dirty white vest and stained blue jeans?’
Silence from the Heavyweight Championship contender. He’s thinking, trying to excavate more memories from what is an otherwise labyrinthine evening of blurs and haze. Nothing comes to mind aside from the events he has already shared with Holmes when they and they alone were in the recording studio and the afters with the pet shop. There was no Abel then.
Then, something catches his eye. He moves towards a large glass window with several televisions playing the same scene over and over. Constantine is absorbed by what he is witnessing. Holmes saddles up next to him, not looking at the screens, but rather addressing his comrade.
Holmes: As much as I’m enjoying this rest, we need a plan of action, some sort of assault on the city. I’m thinking we split up and contact anyone we know and use our extended network to try and locate Abel. Tap into the endless resources at our disposal, try and configure his location via technological means, possibly using some sort of satellite or cloud-based technology to cross reference the likely locations Hunnicutt would hit and then triangulate a probable location based on that.
Lost in his techno-babble, Holmes is frothing from the mouth. However, there is no response from Constantine. He just maintains his view of the televisions.
Holmes: Are you even listening to me John?
Constantine grabs Holmes’ head and twists it at the window and the screens.
Holmes: Well that’s just bloody rude isn’t it?
Finally Holmes’ gaze turns to the TV’s. There, for the whole world to see on this practical cliché are select events from the night before. On a channel initialled B.N.T., hastily taken and poorly captured footage of Holmes, Constantine and the missing third party, is shown from a bar. It is difficult to make out for the grainy nature of the film and the frankly shoddy camerawork on display, but it is clear that there is some sort of disagreement occurring between Holmes, Constantine and a mystery party. Abel is only seen briefly, captured momentarily in the background of the chaos.
The thirty seconds or so of footage repeats as a scrolling bar at the bottom repeats the same tabloid headlines: ‘PRO WRESTLERS IN DRUNKEN BRAWL!’; ‘TWO INJURED AS FORMER CHAMPIONS ATTACK!’; ‘NO CHARGES PRESSED, LOCATION OF TWO OF THE STARS UNKNOWN!’
Holmes: Oh bollocks.
Something in Holmes’ brain mixes with this gaudy recording and triggers a chemical response, releasing from the dark and dreary parts of his mind, the events of last night. They emerge, covered in cobwebs and soaked in alcohol, bringing about the pain that such remembrance can incur, but bringing them forth non-the-less.
Back in the present and both men are unmoved, still in front of the video screens, broadcasting the ultra grainy footage of their drunken antics.
Holmes: Indeed, also explains why my cane has disappeared. So we left dear old Abel with that fake Margaret and the wannabe hip-hoppers?
Constantine: Could’ve been worse.
Thinking about it for a moment, Holmes ponders and nods in agreement. Then, from the distance, Abel comes saddling up, looking as he always has done. They both stare at him as he stands, looking unmoved and deadpan.
Holmes: Where the devil have you been?
Abel smirks and pats Holmes and Constantine both on the back, leading them down the street.
Dedicated to the 1980s: For Scaring and Inspiring Us in Equal Measure.
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