Lethal Lottery 2014: Lethal Lottery match for World Heavyweight Championship

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Richard Blonoff

Make America Rassle Again
*Everyone currently on roster is eligible for this match. If you do not have a match scheduled, RP in this thread*

Deadline is Wednesday, July 30th, 11:59PM CST. Extensions available on request.

EDIT: Deadline bumped to the 31st. Also, Yaz is a doody head.
 
The Chronicles of M

Season 1 Episode 5:

"Super Ultra Mega Happy Fun Times"


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We open with a side on view of a scene showing a magnificent man walking down a paved road, a small backpack hung over his shoulder in a one armed fashion. A grey sky looks on as a gust of wind blows up upon the man, his snow white cape flowing along with the wind in an elegant co ordination with his matching hair, majestically revealing the man to be none other than The Magical Mr M.


Rotating our view approximately 90 degrees in the XY-axis, we find ourselves face on to the mysterious one, his full body still in view, his head tilted downwards to shadow the melancholy expression on his face. a single tear escapes his eye's grasp, freezing M on the spot and forcing him to look up towards the sky to avoid being overcome by emotion...


M: What... What do I have to do? All I want is to take over the world...

The tear drop runs down M's face, and as it hits the ground a light twinkle appears around the splash site. Light piano can be heard scaling upwards in the background as a beam of light shines down from the heavens, creating a spotlight on our favourite madman. M squints a little and shields his eyes with his right hand while a voice begins to speak...

???: You know you could always just win, right?

M, albeit a tad surprised by the scenario that a weird voice from the sky happens to be speaking to him, responds to the voice without even a moment of hesitation.

M: But winning... Winning ain't easy...

???: Yeah and pimpin' ain't either but you don't see that stopping pimps now do you?

M: Yeah I've heard a rap song before... Wait just a monster mashing second! What the hell am I doing talking to a voice from the sky?? Who are you??!?

M's eyebrows tense as his eyes dart around his surroundings, searching to see if there are any spectators witnessing this madness.

???: I, am the narrator. I describe all the little things you do, paint pictures of your adventures and bring them to life. Defeating Dastardly Doctor D, Creating the Teru girl, I've been there for everything.

M raises an eyebrow.

M: So... You're a stalker?? Well I am terribly sorry but I'm taken by the most marvelous girl in the whole wide world... But, as a token of my appreciation for liking me (because really, who wouldn't?) please accept this signed mango.

M pulls out a mango from his backpack and signs it with a magenta pen before lobbing it up towards the voice with a mighty force.

Narrator: Nah I think I'll pass on that.

The mango comes rocketing down from the sky, landing square on the head of M and ricocheting away down the path. M just purses his lips and shakes his head slightly in response.

Narrator: You know you really should have seen that coming... What did you expect? Some sort of giant hand reaching down and grabbing it?

M: Well I don't know, I don't exactly have a ton of experience working with VOICES FROM THE SKY TALKING TO ME!!

M throws up his arms, clearly unimpressed by the unusual situation he seems to have gotten himself into.

Narrator: Well now you know, no giant hands. No giant legs either. Want to note that down?

M's jaw drops as his facial expression right now can be best described by the phrase "I'm so fucking done."

M: What is this going to be on a test or something?

Narrator: Well you never know...

M looks down to the ground and kicks a pebble away before muttering to himself.

M: Really?!? ...Ok.... Calm down M it's just an unknown voice from the sky, what's he gonna do? Punch you? Turn you into a turnip? Ok now that could happen... But that wouldn't make much sense... Yeah and NEITHER DOES A VOICE FROM THE SKY!!

M stops and takes a deep breath before looking up towards the voice's origin and tries his hardest to put on a cute welcoming voice as to not incur the wrath of the unknown.

M: Hello there, Mister "Narrator", would you be ever so kind and please explain why exactly we are having a discussion?

Narrator: Well, to put it simply; I want to kill you.

M drops to his knees, and whether it be out of confusion or fear, tears again begin to form on his eyes.

M: Mwahahahahaha....

Welp. I was wrong, it was laughter, not confusion or fear.

M: If you were going to kill me you would have done it sooner.... You're a narrator yeah? Just describe me drowning in a sea of marshmallow or something, it's not that hard.

Narrator: Well yeah... I can't exactly kill you - that would end the story and I would cease to exist - but I can change little things about your surroundings, make you seem more and more different until you're the killing machine you were supposed to be. Narration's not the easy game it used to be, you can't just suddenly take control of what a main character does or says anymore, you gotta be all psychological and stuff.

M: So you can't control me? If I were to backflip right here right now, you wouldn't have any control over that at all??

Narrator: Nah I don't have control over anyone I didn't create, otherwise I'd have you rip out different organs from your opponents each week and have you attempt to create some sort of Frankenstein's monster out of the parts...

The notion of the murderous behaviour The Narrator is talking about interests M, as he strokes his chin while thinking about the logistics of storing organs, evading the police after the inevitable murders, and making sure his monster wouldn't get killed by the village peasants.

Narrator: ...Yeah, so I've only really got control of General Green, Doctor D and those news guys since you're you and you made Teru...

M: ....Wait you still haven't exactly explained what you're doing here talking to me in the middle of the street... People are gonna judge me...

M shudders as he looks around again, making sure another time over that there is indeed nobody watching this insane spectacle.

Narrator: Well there's a bit of a problem... You know how Teru's missing and stuff? Weeeeeeelllllll I don't know who did that... And Green's also missing...

M: Nahhhhhhh you're crazy, Green can't be missing, if he were missing my ankle thingy would be beep beeping and woop wooping like a fire alarm - because I'm so hot you see hehehe... I miss Teru...

M looks at the ground and flips his bottom lip upwards in a frown, but suddenly he feels a tap on his shoulder...

He spins around at mach speed and comes face to, well, no face since the figure he's facing doesn't have a face, with the physical embodiment of The Narrator - a faceless teen. The faceless figure's brown hair whips along in the wind as he uses his late teenage body as a balancing tool to help M up.


Narrator: You mean this?

The Narrator holds out a white donut shaped device towards M who is too busy picking his jaw up from the floor due to the shock of seeing a no faced teenager.

M: You have no face....

Narrator: Come on, M, surely you should have noticed something was up when Green wasn't at your match yet no sound came from your anklet?

M: There's like a flat skin coloured covering there.... But you have no face....

The Narrator, noticing that M is still mesmerized by the lack of face, karate chops him on the head to snap M back to reality.

Narrator: ...Are you even listening to me?

M: Huh? Oh, right... Green's gone and you want me to help you find him so you can "kill" my mysterious supervillain persona and mould me into some sort of generic guy who wants nothing more than to crush his enemies... Because long ago in a galaxy far far away, some people were very very mean to him and he doesn't know how to communicate his feelings through any method that doesn't involve a suplex? Or maybe he's someone different? Maybe he's one of those "furballs" or whatever they're called, and to get revenge on all the bullies at school he's dressing up as his alter ego - xXThunderFangXx - in a wolf costume so he can unleash the ravenous wolf suplex on their human asses? Sure man but at least pay for the dry cleaning costs of the suit.

M makes a suplexing motion before flexing some of his manly muscles and grunting "ThunderFang, grrrrr" whilst doing so, while The Narrator takes a step back to rub his neck and let him settle himself down.

Narrator: Ummm no... That would be realllllllly boring, my new idea is something I think you could really get behind.

M skips up to an uncomfortable distance of The Narrator, cocking his head to a side and grinning madly.

M: ooooooooo do tell.

Narrator: Well, I know I got kinda worked up on the idea of changing little things around you week by week until you snapped and went out to fight the one who was making those changes - man the scene where you ripped out Green's gall bladder because he wanted you to be "you" again was gonna be soooo awesome... But you were just too damn charismatic and it didn't work. So, I propose you do the one thing you never thought you'd ever do.

M: Eat an entire jar of mayonnaise?!? I've tried that, oh believe me I've tried, but It's just not possible dammit!

M punches his right hand into his left hand whilst looking away off into the distance, recalling moments from his past that he would rather not recall...

Narrator: Even worse: You start being friendly with the fans, become a "good" guy and vanquish all the evil doers so all the little fans love and look up to you.

M's eyes widen as he tries to comprehend the notion of him becoming "good"

M: But... I'm a supervillain, not a superhero!

Narrator: And you want to take over the world, yes? Well unfortunately for you that's kinda a hard thing to do without a small army, and where does one obtain a small army?

M: WZCW! Holy mother of me you're right! I could become good, amass an army of fans roughly the size of the Moroccan population and we could take over the world together! It would be so easy too... All I've got to do is mess up muppets the fans don't like - and those guys are assholes anyway so more fun for me!

M grabs the faceless Narrator's arms and skips around in circles in joy, forcing the Narrator to do so with him.

M: Oh this feels like a brilliant plan! I've got to tell Ter-

The dancing suddenly stops as M slump down in sadness over his desire to see his beloved Teru again.

Narrator: Oh yeah, almost forgot, the note the kidnappers left when they took Green said their ultra secret hiding place was on the Moon and that they've got Teru as well... Probably should have mentioned that earlier, but eh, what are you gonna do?

The Narrator shrugs as M jumps to his feet.

M: THE MOON?!? Dayum that's a sweet spot for an ultra secret hiding place... Well then, I guess it's off to the Moon for M!

M bends down, ready to jump towards the Moon with all of his might but before he can take off, The Narrator stops him.

Narrator: Whoa man hold up! You can't do that right this minute! If you leave now you'll miss the biggest chance you'll have to win over the fans! ....and were you just going to jump to the moon?

M looks at The Narrator with a puzzled expression painted on his face.

M: It's only "One giant leap for mankind" - how hard could ONE leap be?

The Narrator performs the action that would be known as a "facepalm" but, seeing as he does not have the necessary tools for the job, it's more of a caress of the front head area.

Narrator: Still, the Lethal Lottery is coming up, get the fans on your side and eliminate all those pricks who kick babies! I'll get you a rocket ship for later when you can go save your friends and I can go back up into the clouds to never bother you again...

M: They kick babies?? What sort of madman kicks a baby? That's just not on... Guess I gotta do my job then, who am I mangling this time?

Narrator: Well there's a lot of them, there's people like Constantine, Dr Zeus, Ramparte... Pretty much just go by the rule of "if they look like the kind of guy that would literally steal candy from a baby then beat them up"

M: But what about Stormrage?

Narrator: He's just fat.

The two lean back in a chuckle at the stormy one's expense before M strikes one of his signature majestic poses, albeit more heroically than usual.

M: Well then it looks like I'm off to become the fan favourite everyone's always wanted! Look out, Mysterious Moon Men, because I'm coming for Teru - maybe Green too if he's not too far out of the way - and I'm bringing the spirit of an army of fans with me! Now let's beat up some baby kickers...

And with one giant leap, M flies off into the distance, leaving the no faced Narrator there waving as M disappears over the horizon. We hold an over the shoulder view third person style watching his hand wave back and forth as our screen slowly fades to black...


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The Adventures of Lexi Hayes: Preparing For The Match Of A Lifetime

Backstage At Aftershock 36:

The cameras follow Lexi Hayes as she gets backstage after her six person tag team match with Young Justice. Lexi is holding her back in pain after being launched into the steel steps by Eve Taylor but manages to keep a smile on her face. She looks around for a moment, not spotting any of her friends before heading for her locker room to change her clothes and shower.

40 Minutes Later....

Scene fades into the catering area at Aftershock. Lexi, now wearing her casual clothes, jean short shorts and a Marvel The Avengers t-shirt to go with her boots is seen walking with a gym bag. She puts down the bag on her shoulder and grabs an ice-cold bottle of water from a cooler. As she turns around, she nearly walks right into Theron Daggershield.

Oh crap you scared the bejesus out of me!

Lexi gives Theron a playful smack to the chest as he chuckles.

I'm sorry I didn't mean to scare you. I just need to talk to you about something.

Lexi seems confused by this and raises an eyebrow before crossing her arms.

I thought y'all's girlfriend wouldn't let you talk to me anymore?

She did, and we had a fight about it the other day.... but I was wondering if I could get your help.

Lexi uncrosses her arms and lowers her brow before having a smile creep across her face.

Oh my gosh!!!! Really?? The great Theron Daggershield wants MY help?

Lexi's eyes glow with hyper excitement, she claps her hands with a look of anticipation.

My girlfriend has gone missing. She disappeared during Aftershock, I just found out.

Lexi's expression changes from excited to concern.

Oh no!!!! Shouldn't ya be out looking for her?

Yes, but I can't afford to lose this Championship match I have coming up. I know Kirilah, she would hate to be the reason I do not win the belt.

I thought her name was Tiffany?

No, it's Kirilah. I would like to ask for your help.

Lexi seems confused again at the name mix up but goes along with what Theron is saying.

What did ya have in mind hun?

For you to help explain that she has no reason to be jealous of you. I still love her very much and it hurts me to know that I made her cry.

Lexi nods in agreement.

Sure thing darlin, I can do that! Say, maybe ya could help me too. This is my first time in this type of match. What are y'all's strategies to win, any tips?

Lexi flashes Theron a smile, who slowly shakes his head no.

Sorry, I would never reveal my plan going into a battle. Well, maybe to my girlfriend, but.... She's not here right now.

Oh, come on now.... best friends totally shouldn't keep secrets! Me and my BFF Callie tell each other like everything! Even stuff nobody needs to know!

Lexi nods in agreement with herself then gives big sad puppy dog eyes to Theron in hopes of getting some info.

Okay fine I can tell you is this, I've got your back. There's a World Gladiatorial Championship on the line in that match.... if anyone else besides us is in that ring, I'll protect you and go after them, but if it comes down to the two of us as the last remaining entrants, we will have to battle. Is that fair?

Lexi thinks for a moment then nods in agreement before giving Theron a quick hug, Theron keeps his hands at his sides unsure of how to react but luckily, Lexi breaks the hug a moment later.

Aww, thanks so much! I knew I could count on ya! Good luck in the Elite X Championship match with Constantine, too! I'm totally rooting for you!

Thanks, I'll need it. Tell Harbor and Ken Moth that I said hello. I have to go mentally prepare for battle.

Err, Harbor and Ken Moth? I think Y'all meant Haven and Hyada....right?

Theron chuckles at Lexi's confusion before responding.

Right.

Theron then walks away as Lexi shrugs at the somewhat weird conversation with her friend but shrugs it off as she hears her phone vibrating in her pocket. She pulls it out, revealing a glitter covered case and realizes she has a text from her BFF, Callie.

Lexi, we totes need to have a slumber party tomorrow at your place! I know you're like, busy with wrestling but we have super major important things to talk about!

Lexi laughs at the text and replies with "of course!" before putting her phone back in her pocket and taking a sip of the cold water. It feels so good on her dry throat so she chugs some more before putting the cap back on and walking away as the scene fades out.

The Next Night....

As the scene reopens, we see the inside of the Hayes's House, more so Lexi's bedroom. The room is very girly with purple walls and a carpeted floor to match. Unlike a couple of weeks ago, the room is now clean again and the bed is made. Lexi walks into the room with Callie and Callie spreads a couple of blankets she had in her arms across the space on the floor in front of the bed. Lexi now grabs the three pillows off the bed and tosses them onto the blanketed space they have set up. Lexi and Callie now sit on the blankets and turn on the TV. However before they can decide on what to watch,Jessica Hayes walks into the room with a few DVD's in hand.

So I figured since Lexi has a Lethal Lottery Match to prepare for and we we're gonna watch movies anyway, we should watch all the past Lethal Lottery Pay-Per-Views! More importantly, the Lethal Lottery Matches. That way we can scout most of your opponents and get a good idea on who the biggest threats to win are so you know who you target.

Jessica spreads the DVD's out in her hands, she does in fact have all 5 WZCW Lethal Lottery DVD's in hand. Realizing how good of a chance this is to get a first hand view at some of her potential opponents, she jumps up and snatches the first Lethal Lottery DVD out of her sisters hands and pops it into the DVD player.

5 Hours Later...

Lexi puts down her notebook full of notes on many, many members past and present of the WZCW roster and lays down on the blanket. To her right, Callie lays half asleep, clearly having had more than her fill of wrestling for the night while to Lexi's left sits Jessica, who pops the Lethal Lottery 5 DVD back into it's case before speaking up.

Okay so now that you've had a chance to scout all your possible opponents what do you think your strategy for winning will be?

Well, I reckon there's power in numbers which is good because I totally have some super awesome best friends to work with in Theron Daggershield and Young Justice! Y'all think I can trust them?

Callie now sits up and chimes in before Jessica can.

Totally! Theron already told you he'll help you and he's a stand up guy! Plus he probably thinks you're cute if he talks to you even though his girlfriend tells him not to! That means he'd soooo protect you until the final 2 if he can!

Lexi and Jessica both get a laugh at what Callie just said as she seems dumbfounded as to why they're laughing.

I reckon you're crazy Callie if you think that's true! He might help me survive in the match but he loves his girlfriend! Besides, I ain't got no time for boys if I wanna be a success in the company! The same goes for Young Justice, they're totally my new best friends now and since I'm gonna help them beat those sneaky people in Cerberus, I bet they'll wanna thank me by helping me in the Lethal Lottery!

Lexi nods as Jessica chimes in.

Speaking of that, they roughed you up pretty bad on Aftershock. Do you think you're gonna be able to handle yourself okay now that it'll be no DQ?

Of course hun! I might be small but I'm tough! Cerberus are good, really good but they can't do nothin' to me that will cause more pain than anythin' I've done to myself workin' on the farm! Like cuttin' myself on the barbwire fence or fallin' off Chestnut the first time I rode him! That hurt like a dickens!

Jessica nods before picking up her sisters notebook and she finds a section on the last page where Lexi wrote down a list of the big threats to win. She skims over the list quickly.

Okay so lets focus on the people we know will be in the Lethal Lottery that you put under the biggest threats to win. You listed Ty Burna, El Califa Dragón, The Elite, Dr. Zeus and Mikey Stormrage as the people you're worried about the most. Oh and Cerberus but hey, maybe you'll get lucky and take care of them before the match with Young Justice. What do you think about the rest of them? Lets go over them one by one starting with Ty Burna since he's entering at #1.

Oh gosh Ty Burna is tough, I mean did you see what happened to him this week?! If he comes back from that, I will be more surprised than daddy was when you told him you got in a car accident! I would never wanna get on Mr. Burna's bad side that's for darn tootin. I don't reckon I know a way to handle him. Maybe if I'm #2 I'll just try to hit and run until I get some help. He is a former winner after all.

Jessica nods, unsure of any advice to give her sister here as she goes onto the next person on the list.

Okay what about Califa? He was part of a great tag team for a long time with Amber Warren and now he's on a mission to destroy The Pale Riders.

Maybe if I help him fight The Pale Riders he'll be thankful and not eliminate me! I reckon he wouldn't mind someone helping him get rid of them besides Mr. Burna if he's even gonna make it there.

Good thinking. Next is The Elite. If they end up in there together, they'll probably work together to pick everybody else off. You might just wanna stay out of their way unless you have Theron or Young Justice out there to help you fight them.

Suddenly, Callie speaks up.

Showtime is cute though, you should give him my number Lexi!

Lexi turns to face her BFF, raising an eyebrow at her as Jessica just laughs and shakes her head in the background.

Girl I would but I don't think you're exactly his type. Plus I think he's taken.

Lexi chuckles as Callie shrugs and goes back to laying down on the blanket as Lexi turns her attention back to her sister.

That's a good idea Jess. I might be tough but I ain't tough enough to beat The Elite all by my lonesome. Plus Mr. Cougar won the Lethal Lottery before, I reckon he'll be the toughest of the three to eliminate.

That's good thinking. What do you think about Dr. Zeus? He sure is one sadistic guy.

Jess, I'm gonna be honest with ya. I'm scared of Dr. Zeus. I reckon somethin' ain't fit in his head and if he's been destroyin' Mr. Burna and Mr. Califa so much lately, can you just imagine what he'd do to me?

Lexi shutters at the thought as Jessica nods.

I agree he's very dangerous, possibly the most dangerous man in WZCW right now. But he can't use weapons in the Lottery and I don't think he has anything against you, so you might not have too much to worry about there. However if he has the other Pale Riders in there you'll have to watch out for them. Another time where being in there with Young Justice or Theron would be great for you and for them. But if you happen to end up in there alone with him, just fight with all your heart and maybe you can surprise him with a quick elimination.

Lexi slowly nods as Jessica goes onto the final person on the list.

Okay and finally, Mikey Stormrage. He's very different from guys like Ty Burna and Dr. Zeus where he's never really been an evil guy but he's very talented. He's got a big weight advantage over you too so I don't know if you could lift him over the top rope alone, but you could use the ropes to get him out maybe.

I reckon I could do that, maybe get him in the ropes and dropkick him out of the ring or hurricanrana him over the top rope. Something like that. But Mikey seems like a super cool guy, I mean he loves video games! Maybe after the Lethal Lottery me and him could go play video games! How cool would that be!?

Jessica chuckles before responding.

I think you should worry about trying to win the Lethal Lottery before you worry about playing video games with anybody. Was there anything else you wanted to go over tonight before you have to head back on the road?

Err, I don't think so. I think I'll be able to put on a strong showing at least in the Lethal Lottery if I can keep some distance from my opponents so I can hit some high-flying moves. I also need to find at least one person to work with in there because there's power in numbers. Sound good?

Jessica nods in approval, then hugs her sister and wishes her luck. Jessica then heads for the door as Lexi looks into the mirror in her room, putting on her best tough girl face.

At Lethal Lottery, i'm gonna leave Cerberus and all my opponents in the Lethal Lottery in a Hayes!

Jessica stops when she hears this, and turns around to look at her sister. Lexi is totally oblivious to her sister still being in the room and Jessica just smiles and shakes her head before leaving the room quietly as the scene fades out.
 
It was a disaster backstage, almost as if a hurricane had ripped everything apart and the adults were rushing around backstage as emergency workers attempting to stabilize the situation. Young girls, none of which had reached their teenage years, covered in cosmetic products donning the latest fashion and most beautiful attire littered the small area. Some were getting their make-up touched up; some were rehearsing their lines; and others were throwing temper tantrums or gloating between each other... but there was only one girl who stood in the corner watching everything unfold, simply happy to have the opportunity of participating in such a paramount event.

"Mentore!" The young girl yelled out in glee as she saw her manager walk over.

"English, Eve." She retorted with a stern voice. "And for the last time darling, call me by my birth name."

"Sorry, Mentor Rosa."

"You won't win over a global audience with a local dialect now, will you? That's why we got rid of that silly name of yours, Eva Pellegrini... I mean, who will get behind that?"

Eve Taylor stood with her hands behind her back and a head hanging in shame. Mentor Rosa wanted to berate Eve for her bad posture and acting childish but she saw the chaos that was taking over around them and decided that it would be better not to add to the problems. Rosa took a seat next to Eve and lifted her hanging head with her finger. Eve looked directly towards Rosa who sported a smile, cheering her up and eventually, creating a smile of her own.

"Ah see! That is what I expect to see out there tonight." Rosa said with confidence. "It is a big night after all: your first professional beauty pageant! A victory tonight will see you shoot towards the stars like a rocket."

"I know, Mentor Rosa... and it is why I am nervous."

"And why are you nervous?"

Eve pointed out towards the other contestants.

"I've been watching them and some are really talented and beautiful. How do I stand a chance against them?"

Eve looked up with concern to her mentor who quickly glanced over the competition before letting out a snicker. Rosa turned back to Eve and stroked her cheek with her thumb.

"You are adorable and modest: that's something most don't possess and it is a quality that will assist you but it isn't the only thing, right Eve?"

Eve nodded. "Be confident, put a smile on your face and do your best!"

"Incorrect. Never do your best."

A look of bewilderment appeared on young Eve's face. She felt dejected by giving the wrong answer: Eve hated knowing she had answered her mentors' questions wrong.

"Displaying your best from the start means everyone else around you will sense that you've already peaked and they'll adjust their strategy to grind you out of the competition... so you save your best for dire situations. Until such a time presents itself, all you need to do is just enough to be better than the rest. It doesn't matter if your performance was subpar, as long as you were better than the rest, you'll remain in contention. It doesn't matter if you fail, as long as you were better than the rest, you'll remain in contention. It doesn't matter if you didn't captivate the audience, as long as you were..."

"... better than the rest..."
"... you'll remain in contention."

Rosa nodded with faith in Eve.

"You are a very beautiful & humble young girl with a strong stage name. You have the ability to make waves in this industry but the competition..." Rosa looks directly at Eve and holds her by the shoulders. "... well, the competition aren't taking you very seriously because you're still a rookie with nothing to your name. Your track record isn't impressive either but it doesn't matter what you've done in the past, tonight is a new challenge and all you need to do is be..."

"... better than the rest..."
"... and you'll remain in contention. Exactly."

Eve & Rosa said, finishing each others' sentences.

They shared a short moment as the proud mentor smiled at Eve, knowing that her teachings had gotten across. Rosa had been known to be a hard, tough teacher who never strayed away from her professional side and always kept emotions in check but for this short moment, Eve could see that Rosa saw her almost as her own daughter. Even if it only lasted a few seconds before being interrupted by a stage-hand, it would become a moment Eve would carry around forever.

"Eve Taylor! Where is Eve Taylor?" cried one of the stressed organisers.

"You're up, darling. Time for the world to be introduced to Eve Taylor. Show them why you are better than the rest."

Eve smiled as she headed over to the organiser who directed her to the side of the stage, where the voice of an announcer grew louder and louder as she approacher. She grew slightly nervous and anxious as she walked past all the girls who were in competition with her, staring daggers into her heart as a form of discouragement. Eve looked back and wore their hatred as a badge of pride and honour.

"... and here she is: Eve Taylor!" said the announcer.

She could hear the applause of the audience as the announcer ushered her on the stage. Eve froze for a second but not out of fear. She took the time to close her eyes and take a deep breath, preparing herself for her time in the spotlight to showcase herself and get the people to believe in Eve Taylor...

...

... Eve opened her eyes to see that she had returned back to reality from the flashback of that fateful day. Even though this memory occurred over a decade ago, the beautiful and humble Eve Taylor was still being ushered onto the stage to confront a sea of people, hanging to hear the inspirational words of the Fabulous One. Eve smiled and cocked her head back with confidence as she walked out into the spotlight, a place she has felt most comfortable since that very first beauty pageant. All eyes were on her as she resonated her dashing good looks, viciously rocking her outfit equipped with a Cerberus-influenced eye mask, adding a sense of mystique that captivated members of the audience.

Eve widen her smile as she took centre-stage, channelling the message of her former mentor as she took in the atmosphere.

"Ladies and gentlemen, my name is Eve Taylor: I am the Third Head of Cerberus and I, am at your service."

Eve's voice bellowed throughout the arena, commanding everyone in attendance to be alert and attentive to the Milan model. She graciously curtseys for the audience with her patent smile.

"I am here to extend to you a friendly hand to join the benevolent Cerberus and support our noble cause as we march proudly towards the battlefield known as the Lethal Lottery, an event that will etch its name in history as we look to conquer the evil that stands in our way; in the way of everyone and show why we, together, are better than the rest."

It was very audible to Eve that those in the audience thought she was spewing cheap propaganda in an attempt to sway the masses. She continued to smile, knowing full well she was about to reel them back in after casting her beliefs too far for anyone to support.

"Most of you are probably thinking: 'why should we take the word of some fashion model whose skills revolve around determining which colours mesh well together and carefully selecting accessories to compliment her clothes?' Well, you shouldn't. Nobody should take anyone's word as law because everything and everyone has their own interpretation."

People gave the same bewildered look that Eve once gave her former mentor.

"And that's the beauty about Cerberus: we aren't an organisation that bases its entire creed on one sentence or philosophy. We do not limit ourselves and tell people that they can only think or act or present themselves a certain way. We emphasise creativity amongst all so that true beauty can shine through, exposing the marvels inside people that they never knew existed."

Eve could say that some people were having a lot doubts, not wanting to listen to any more statements without evidence.

'Time to turn some heads.' Eve thought.

"Don't believe me? Let's take an example in the Elite. Steven Holmes; John Constantine; & David Cougar: three men who have taken it upon themselves to destroy and crush the dreams of those who dare to be different. If you cross the line for a mere second, these heartless men will be breathing down your neck and beat you senseless until you admit your faults. They stoop so low with their motives that they did this to their fellow friend Michael Winters, a simple man with a simple religious preference that didn't exactly fit into their perfect mould. Their hatred runs so deep through their veins that these band of high-class elitists don't even like each other! Holmes; Constantine; & Cougar have been embroiled in bloody battles over the years because of this idiotic creed. What's the point of limiting yourself down to a single code when, at any point, you could be misinterpreted and beaten down, let alone at the hands of your friends?

How about following a cult without order that goes around fulfilling their sick, vindictive pleasures by sacrificing everyone to an idol who doesn't exist for a rapture that never comes? That's what the Pale Riders inflict every time they ride into town, causing havoc and destruction all because one unstable man who refers himself as both a medical practitioner and a deity has random voices in his head. How do they show us the way and enlighten us if they create chaos and obliterate everything that you possess? What can be learned from devouring everything and recreating something out of nothing? And should you join their cause and fall along the way, they'll leave you behind to rot into the ground and chalk it up as another successful gift to the Gods.

Still not convinced? There is always the false hope of supporting a band of superheroes who will protect us and save us from all the bad things in the world like Young Justice, right?"


The crowd lets out cheers for the mention of the masked men. Eve smirks to herself.

"I understand the appeal and the message that they spread is uplifting and inspiring: anyone can become a superhero in their own right. Yes, it is true, anyone can become a super person. Look at me, I came from a family who lived in the poorest area of Italy and were perceived amongst the lowest of classes... and yet I stand before you a super model, invigorating millions across the globe to become someone special. I also wear awesome costumes and don the mask as well as a new name to add mystique to my image and it is fun...

... but all of that is merely a front for Young Justice who are sexually aroused by the adulation you give them. They prey off those who are helpless or fail to attempt to become a superhero themselves, swooping in to save the day and shining the spotlight towards their direction so they can bask in the glory... and in their wake, they've created monsters such as M & Diabolos and fool innocent bystanders like Lexi Hayes and a woman I once called my best friend Aubrey Sloan into thinking they are weak and cannot stand for themselves... because of Young Justice infecting her easily-impressionable mind, I've lost my best friend...my best frie-"


Eve wipes back the tears that are streaming down her cheek, ripping off her Cerberus mask as she uses her fingers to hold back the tears. After a few seconds, she holds the mask in the air and points at it, doing her best to keep her emotions in check as she continues her speech.

"This mask that I wear is not a front, it is merely piece of clothing I chose to wear today to make myself look beautiful in my eyes. There is nothing to hide behind this mask and what you see when you look at me is what you get. I'm nowhere near perfect but at least you get the truth..."

Eve pauses for a few seconds, wiping her face once more before putting the mask back on her face. She does her best to let out a smile.

"I am here only as a representative for Cerberus. My status as Third Head does not mean I hold more power than anyone else for we are all equals under Cerberus and we all wish for everyone to discover their own selves and excel at life. We aren't here to blame you for a crime you didn't commit like Frank Mortlock would do; we aren't here to tell you that you're wrong like Mr. Butty would have you believe; and we certainly aren't here to make you content in becoming complacent with your lives such as Matt Tastic or Mikey Stormrage. We are here for you!

We are here for the Mick Overlast's of the world who have their backs turned on by the Blade's of the world. We are here to support the new and foreign like the Kagura Ohzora's as well as the old and expired like the Daddy Mack's. We are here to give life to the ones who see the world in their own way like the Theron Daggershield's or the ones like the El Califa Dragon's who are viewed differently by the world. We are even here for those who have all the odds stacked against them like the Ty Burna's of the world. We are here for all of you!

And who exactly is this 'we' that I keep referring? We are..."


Flex Mussel walks out, standing to the left of Eve.

"... 'The Monsieur of Muscle' Flex Mussél..."

Ramparte walks out, standing to the right of Eve.

"... 'The Catalyst' Ramparte..."

Eve points to herself.

... and myself, "The Fabulous" Eve Taylor, and we swear to you by the hand of Cerberus that we are here for you, to see you flourish in a world filled with evil men and women. Together, we can raise our hands in unison, march forward into Lethal Lottery and claim victory over those who want to decimate our vision of the perfect, healthy and beautiful world. We will restore the WZCW World Tag Team championships to its former glory; we battle against all the odds to claim the Lethal Lottery in our name; and we will finally bring the beauty back to WZCW World Heavyweight Championship. For those of you, brothers and sisters, who want to join our rally towards a better life, under the watchful eyes of our gatekeeper and the protector of life, join me as we...

... stand tall together...

... better than the rest...

... and in one loud, clear and proud voice...

... we will howl:"​


"HAIL CERBERUS!"
 
Diabolos is walking through the backstage area, Machiko is in front of him; wearing a Diabolos is My Homeboy T-Shirt. She starts clapping to hype him up and he starts to nod his head as he heads to battle Theron Daggershield.

Machiko: Theroooooooon! Theeeeeeeeeeeron! Diabolos is coming for you! He’s coming for your head!

She turns around but continues to walk backwards. She claps at him and then points at him. He raises his fist in the air as he walks. She turns back around, as she does three skeleton men; minions of Grandma, jump out and grab her. Before Diabolos can make a move he is jumped from behind by three more, one of them being especially large. They pound him to the ground until he lies unconscious.

Skeleton: Grandmother will be pleased.



-----------------------------------------------------------------------​


A splash of water is thrown on Diabolos face. He on the floor in a brick walled room, with only a flickering light. He sits up and sees the three Skeletons who jumped him staring at him. The room is completely empty; a metal door is behind them.

Diabolos: Where am I?

Skeleton: You know where you are.

Diabolos: What have you done to Machiko?

The skeletons look at each other and laugh.

Skeleton: You know that too. She is to be offered to the Old Ones. She’ll be thrown into the pit of fire to make sure it’s hot enough for you, false prophet. But before we bring you to Grandma, we’re going to have a little fun with you.

The large skeleton takes off the glove on his right hand, revealing a metal glove underneath. It glows blue.

Diabolos: Is that what I think it is? How did you get it?

Skeleton: Grandma found the blueprints stuffed in a Voluptuous Vixen magazine underneath your bed. The gods have given us the tools to build it, Grandma gave me the right to wield it, and I intend to use it… on you, over and over and over again. No Lethal Lottery for you, no WZCW World Title, no saving your friend, and no achieving the greatness that you claim the Old Ones desired.

Diabolos: You would waste shedding some of my blood before offering me to the Great Ones? You haven’t been following in class have you?

Skeleton: What Grandma doesn’t know, won’t hurt her. But it will hurt you.

They slowly walk towards him, two of them grab his arms and the large one raises his hand high in the air, presses a few buttons and powers the glove up. He brings it down towards Diabolos’ face but Diabolos gets his right arm out and punches the glove before it hits his face, shattering it. He low blows the one holding his left hand and uppercuts the one who held his right. He gets to his feet, brushes himself off and kicks both of them in the groin. The large skeleton is on the ground holding his hand in shock and inching backwards as Diabolos stalks him.

Skeleton: We followed the blueprints perfectly, how could your fist smash it?

Diabolos looks down at his right hand and a slight red glow is emanating from underneath his skeletal glove. He looks back towards the skeleton man and puts his hand out.

Diabolos: Give me the key out of this room.

He spits in Diabolos face. Diabolos wipes it off and laughs before kicking him in the groin.

Diabolos: Give me the key.

The skeleton cries out in pain. Diabolos kicks him again, this time even harder.

Diabolos: Give me the key.

The skeleton shakes his head no. Diabolos shakes his head and walks to the wall behind him. He puts a finger in the air as if he is signaling a kickoff. He bangs on the wall behind him with his other hand and charges towards him. The skeleton man throws the key at him as he’s winding up his kick. He stops and picks it up. He heads towards the door, kicking the man in the face before he unlocks the metal door. He peeks his head outside into a long hallway lit by torches. No one is around and a stairwell is at the end. Before leaving the room he stops when he hears a slithering sound, he turns around and notices a small window in the room; a tentacle is squiggling through it. The skeleton man dazedly notices the tentacle and looks at Diabolos with sheer terror.

Skeleton: Help me up, man. Don’t leave me alone with it!

Diabolos whips the key at the only torch that was lighting the room; it goes pitch black and closes the door. Ripping flesh, tentacle slapping and the visceral screams of the skeleton man echo through the hallway. Diabolos pulls out a cigarette and uses one of the torches on the wall to light it. He heads down the hallway and up the stairs, when he gets to the top he enters a large empty room with two doors on the left and right. He heads towards the left; he opens the door and heads in. Its pitch black, he looks up to see he is actually in a pit, hundreds of feet deep. At the top, lights can be seen and talking is heard.


------------------------------------------------------​


Grandma is standing beside a table with circles and triangles drawn from blood, she holds a book in her hands. Two skeletons drag a lifeless Machiko into the room and drop her at Grandma’s feet.

Grandma: This poor, innocent girl should not be here. Her flesh does not deserve to be burned by the black flames of the Old Ones. Her pure soul is too bright to be swallowed into the darkness. But we should not blame ourselves for what we are about to do, nor should we regret it. It is for the good of our family and the good of the gods. That sniveling Diabolos is the one to blame for her death.

She walks over the pit and looks down.

Grandma: You hear that my dearest grandson! You’re precious little friend is going to be roasted alive while you rot in that dungeon! I hope her screams go through your ears like a knife! Her blood is on your hands, not mine!

She walks back to the table.

Grandma: I hope he heard that.

--------------------------------------------​


Diabolos uses his cigarette to light the pit, a large pile of wood sits in the middle, the smell of gasoline fills the air, he runs his cigarette along the walls. He notices some of the bricks stick out to form a crude ladder to the top; he shrugs, puts the cigarette in his mouth and starts climbing.

---------------------------------------------------​


Grandma: Well, don’t just stand there, wake her up!

They throw gasoline on her face to wake her up, she screams and chokes on the gasoline, coughing violently. She opens her eyes, Grandma is face to face with her.

Grandma: Sweet little Machiko, so precious. She’s still adorable as ever, even with gasoline covering her body. Are you ready to die for the Old Ones? Are you ready to burn into the eternal darkness? Oh was this not what you expected when you signed up? You had such promise in the beginning, fire in your heart and anger in your bones. Ready to tear the world apart until an abyss rips through and the gods could spew forth. But that pesky grandson of mine got into your little puny brain. You became a servant for him forsaking your slavery to them. You took his words over theirs and his orders over mine. You would have followed him to the gates of hell, chanting his name as you do. Well, why don’t you start chanting it now? I mean, you’re at the gates of hell now. But where is Diabolos? He’s not in front of you clearing the way, making sure your safe, cuddling and kissing you and holding your hand while you skip towards the land of the devil. Do you know where he is? He’s lying on a cold floor, bloody and bruised waiting for you to warm up the pit so the flames will be nice and high for his accursed body. He failed you and you failed him. Did you believe him when he said he was their right hand? Did you really think they flowed through that pitiful vessel he calls his body? You probably thought you heard their words whispering in his ears. He is just insane, out of his mind. They only speak to me; they only trust me to carry out their wicked deeds. I have never displeased them, the only failure I ever had was giving birth to the woman who allowed that wretched carcass to crawl out of her bloody womb! And now, that shall all be undone, when I throw you two into the pit. You have anything to say before your death?

Machiko: Pfft, we’ll be at my apartment playing drunken Mario Party in two hours. Diabolos is going to kill all of you, skin the bones off your bodies, drain the blood, and make blood balloons for the party we throw after your funeral! You can’t stop him. But you’re right about something…

Grandma: Oh and what that might be, dearest?

Machiko: He’s not the chosen one of the gods, he’s not the right hand of doom, and the Old Ones didn’t choose him to be their destructor. He is OUR chosen one, he is OUR right hand of righteousness, and WE chose him to be our savior. The darkness and confusion is gone, your grandson fights for the light and his mind is clearer than ever. He’s gone stomp your old ass back to the stone age when you were born, smash the Old Ones in the face with his dick and punch in everyone’s face at the Lethal Lottery and become the WZCW Champion we have all been waiting for. One that fights for those who have never had a voice: the nerds, the geeks, the weirdos, the losers, the unwanted, and the unwashed! He will conquer you all and finally claim his spot at the top of the world! You have failed, the gods have failed, and every single member of the WZCW roster will fail because you don’t see the greatness that lies not just within his right hand but in his mind and spirit. He’s been kicked and beaten, thrown to the wolves, to hell and back but he will not die. He keeps coming, through it all he is still here and he won’t leave until he achieves the destiny he knows belongs to him! He is not Diabolos, he is the son of your daughter and the son of your daughter’s murderer! He who walks behind the rows of GameStop, the thrusting madmen, the lunatic professor of chaos, he is-

Grandma: Shut her blasphemous spewing, ****e mouth now! Light the fire!

The men cover Machiko’s mouth and throw a match down the pit, Diabolos tries to catch it but misses. It lands in the pile of wood, but nothing happens.

Grandma: You idiots can’t do anything right! Throw in more gasoline!

One of the men grabs a can and starts to pour it down the pit. Diabolos flicks his cigarette at the stream of gasoline above him, it lights it on fire and travels back into the canister, exploding in his face.

Grandma: WHAT?!

The pit catches fire and Diabolos quickly climbs out. He runs and dropkicks the two men holding Machiko in the face. He frees her from her restraints and lifts her to her feet his shoulder.

Diabolos: You alright?

Grandma stabs him in the chest with a knife from the sacrificial table, Diabolos falls to his knees, Machiko does the same, unable to stand on her own.

Grandma: The moment has finally come grandson. The moment that you give your life and reawaken the sleeping giants hiding within the dimensions of this world! Your blood and sacrifice will bring forth the age of terror that will less for millennia! You’re finally worth something now, you have failed at everything you have ever attempted to do but you’re pretty good at dying!

Grandma grabs a cup made from a skull and fills it with the blood coming from Diabolos’ chest.

Grandma: When I drink this, I shed my body and achieve my true form!

Grandma drinks from the cup, Diabolos charges at her and shoulder blocks her into the pit below. As she falls she laughs and smiles, face covered in his blood. Diabolos falls to the floor and crawls to Machiko.

Diabolos: You have to get out, fast.

Machiko: We have to rest, there’s no rush now, she’s dead.

Diabolos: My grandmother is dead but something worse is about to be born.

Machiko: What do you mean?

A dozen tentacles covered in fire shoot out of the pit and take hold in different crevices in the room. They pull and an octopus like creature jumps out of the pit, crashing the ceiling down and standing over Diabolos and Machiko. The moon begins to turn red and it unleashes a guttural screech that pierces the air. Its mouth widens, it’s circular with hundreds of sharp teeth formed around it.

Diabolos gets to his feet as does Machiko. They sprint out of the room and down a hallway; tentacles smash through the wall and fly after them. Diabolos stops in the middle of the hallway and pulls out a random brick on the wall. It opens a secret door and they climb in. It’s a small crawl way, only tall enough to crouch through.

They move as fast as their beaten and bloodied bodies can allow, the tentacles follow them down. They reach an opening and jump down into an open room. Diabolos lights a torch with his cigarette lighter to reveal a stone brick walled room, with symbols and shapes drawn on the floors and walls. In the middle sits a black treasure chest with a small hole at the top. Diabolos grabs Machiko close, kisses her, biting her lip as he does. He pulls away and spits into the hole in the chest. She holds her mouth and he opens the chest to reveal an ancient sword and lantern.

He grabs them both and goes to the wall beneath the opening they came out of. The tentacles shoot into the room and the monstrosity follows right after. As it falls from the opening, Diabolos cuts in half from the bottom with the sword. The beast spits in two, its blood and organs spew across the room, covering everything. Diabolos grabs the lantern and picks up the heart of the beast. He places the heart inside and lights it with his lighter. He grabs Machiko onto his shoulders and sprints against a wall, smashing through to reveal another passage way.

He runs down it with Machiko on his back, a thunderous roar comes from the room behind them and he tries to run faster. He reaches the end of the passage where a long ladder leads to a metal, circle door high above. He puts Machiko on and lets her climb first. She does and gets to the top, she opens the door and slithers out to find herself inside a burnt down house. She looks around and sees a burnt Speak N Spell and a charred James King poster. She reaches her hand down to help pull Diabolos up but he just stares down the passage way.

Machiko: What are you doing?

Diabolos: I have to make sure it’s dead. I have to finish this. Close the door, I’ll be out soon. Just close it in case it comes out.

Machiko nods and closes the door as he heads down the hallway. As she closes it a loud explosion erupts from underneath her and shakes the crippled house. The walls and ceilings begin to crumble and she runs out of the house. A light comes from the hole and envelops the house in a bright explosion.

----------------------------------------------------​


Blackness. A small glow gradually grows larger. It explodes into an infinite amount of different lights. They form together and form planets and stars and galaxies. A burning rock is covered in pitch black tentacles. It gets set on fire and melts into the land. The smoke clears and a blue and green planet emerges. Single celled organisms writhing around in water. Forming into crustacean. Forming into fish. Crawling onto land. Evolving into amphibious reptiles. Plants and trees and insects and other animals form around it. Dinosaurs, a comet, the rise of mammals, monkeys and apes, the dawn of man. A flash through all the ancient civilizations and societies, a woman with black hair holding a small baby on a couch, an Atari 2600 controller and D&D manual on the floor in front of her. A man holding a bottle of whiskey covers appears behind her. Screams over images of Mario Brothers, Duck Hunt, and Zelda. A boy being pushed into a locker, laughed at by girls with his pants around his ankles. Cries of pain behind him while he stares at a Voltron cartoon on TV. A Christmas tree, a present, inside a glove. A bloody bag, a boy playing a SNES. High school science club, chess club, eating lunch under the bleachers. Wedgies, swirlies and purple nurples. Graduation, a lonely prom night. College, experimentation, loss of memory. Military labs, science labs, awards. Screaming Generals and military officials. A hole in the wall the size of a fist. Images of WZCW flash; scenes of Showtime, Ty Burna, Everest, Titus, Toyota, Hammond, Crashin, Barbosa, Mister, James King, Saxton, Armando Paradyse, Saboteur, SHIT, Apostles of Chaos, Sam Smith, Krypto, Facecrush McSpinesmasher, Missy, Ricky Runn, Zeus, Beard, Fallout, Theron Daggershield all for a split second. A blackened heart inside a body, red, blue and green wires wiggle around and connect. Slowly it thumps, gradually it thumps faster and faster. The sound of the Nintento logo at the beginning of a SNES game being turned on and a flash of white light.

Machiko is sitting on the sidewalk next to the burnt, now collapsed house. Her head is buried and her hands and she is crying uncontrollably. A hand touches her shoulder, she jumps to her feet and sees a large man with a white luchador mask and long brown coat.

Machiko: Mister?

Mister nods and grabs her hand. They walk up the unkempt walkway leading to the house, they climb over the rubble and reach the middle where a large pile of wood is. Mister pulls a piece of paper out of his coat pocket.

Machiko: What’s that?

Mister: A contract to enter the Lethal Lottery.

Machiko: But he’s dead.

Mister shakes his head and laughs. He bends over and places the contract on the pile.

Mister: Fulfill your destiny, become our champion.

A Power Glove crashes through the rubble and grabs the contract. It glows red and clenches the paper as the scene fades to black.












 
Life; it’s a funny old thing. I write this as my life changes. I’ve lived through eras, ages, dynasties and I’ve recalled moments of triumph, moments of despair. For a man in his 36th year I have witnessed and lived through much. From a regal background to a gritty living, I have experienced more than most will in their lifetime. And yet, it is the past few weeks that have been perhaps the most pivotal and influential in this life of mine. They have been exhausting, maddening, but truly brilliant. As I stand on the precipice of history I feel its immaculate glow warming me, beckoning me to absorb it, embrace it and grab life, that odd thing, with both hands taking control of it and steering it the way I want. A golden age is upon us...

Suddenly we cut, thrust out of our literary narrative and into the past. A dank, stale corridor is our greeting. It has not felt the warmth that has been written about. Nay, it is dark, brooding and blue. A clock echoes in the background. Seven minutes past five. This sterile atmosphere is an early one. The weight of time is felt heavily here as we see the corridor dominated by a figure, a lone figure. He stands shirt un-tucked, unshaven, a general mess. Unwashed hair, stained suit jacket, few would recognise this as an Elite. Indeed few would recognise this man as the Elite. But indeed this is Steven Holmes. He is alone. Life has made him wait this way, in solitude. The ticking clock continues, mocking the dishevelled. He must wait, a broken look in his eyes. Only a handful of times before have we seen Holmes this way.

Defeats are hard to take in life, but sometimes they are a necessity. There are moments in time when you need knocking off your perch. You can inflate your ego, dominate, destroy and conquer and believe yourself invincible. I once beat a man to the brink of death, savouring the final blow, the coup de grâce, until all eyeballs were drawn to myself and my nemesis. It was an indulgence of my ego. I should have ended it there and then, drawing the last breath out of my enemy’s body. I didn’t and afterwards I fell to him; bloody, broken, beaten. But it was not just at his hands that I fell. A friend, an ally, a man I had neglected and mistreated stabbed me in the back. He was Brutus to my Caesar. It made the defeat all the worse.

Sometimes it doesn’t take a defeat to make you realise that you need to come down from your own overblown sense of self-importance though. Sometimes there are moments in life that can cause a series of emotions, of feelings, of wants and desires to run through your body all at once. These moments come only as a handful for most. I experience them often, certainly more than the common cretin. These are the experiences that make your knees turn to jelly and drive a wild passion inside you unstoppable, insatiable. Their importance even crushing the greatest of narcissists, myself included.


Again this corridor. Again the clock, now echoing louder, heavier, its importance apparent. It should remind Steven Holmes of the moment he decided to return to his passion, his mistress; the ring. It doesn’t. Instead his mind has drawn a blank. Excitement, fear, hope, terror, want, need. All rush through his body alongside an overload of adrenaline, an overload so apparent that it has, for the time being, crippled his emotions. He is numb.

Over a year ago I sat atop a mountain, fulfilling a life-long ambition and obsession. It slaughtered beasts, personal demons and much more. I beat people fair and square and through any means necessary. This is the mentality a warrior needs to become a king, to seize a throne, to ascend. I had talked of omnipotence, God-hood. I was to fulfil a role beyond that of a king and a conqueror. I was to be the be all and the end all. The alpha and the omega. I could not do it alone though. For my adversary was the greatest beast of all. Taking the form of a man to confuse me, this demi-god had shimmering locks of gold, a body sculpted by the Gods themselves. He was an ideal, Aryan king. To defeat him I needed another.

And it was then that I found the person to sit with me on the throne of power. A queen, an empress, a lover, and much more. Driving home a killer blow, she crowned me, bathed me in glory and grandeur, sharing in it all. A warrior queen to join a bloodthirsty king. This was the peak of power, but even it pales in comparison to other moments, more recent moments, also shared with her.


The lack of emotion on Holmes’ face in the dimly lit corridor is quickly contrasted with a different emotion. We snap to a flailing Celeste Crimson, her face wracked in obvious pain and anguish. Tears are flowing freely. She wears what appears to be a hideous gown, the sort you’d wear in a hospital. As her enlarged, bloated, pregnant stomach bounces up and down we pull out to reveal a doctor, midwives, a nurse, a full medical team in truth. Something is coming. We cannot hear her or any of the others though. Instead, only the clock, time ticking on, truly omnipotent. We switch back to Holmes, his emotionless finally engulfed, a toothy, dark, brooding smirk ripe on his face.

For Kinsey, With Love...

Fade to black...

__________________________________​

...Darkness rules. The world is black, lifeless. Dead. Then, a spotlight switches on. It is bright and brilliant. It appears warm and glowing unlike the corridor of before. Also in contrast if the figure. Again it is Steven Holmes but now he is clean-shaven, dressed immaculately, presentable. His back is to us, but his arms are cradling something. He turns to reveal the obvious, a child, a girl. The smile on his face would be the envy of any new parent. For the first time in a long time, Steven Holmes smiles, not because of the pain he has caused others, or because of the personal victories inside the square circle, but because he has achieved what he at one time probably thought improbable; he has become a proud parent.

Holmes: My beautiful Kinsey. For all your life you shall be treated as a queen, a princess, an heiress. But this does not mean pampering to the point of imprisonment or inadequacy. I believe life is worth living little one. Some will list the clichés of how life is like a chocolate selection or how it sucks. I don’t believe this. No Kinsey, I believe life is what you make it...indeed I do believe in at least one cliché. Heh. Life is not a lottery but a series of choices you make and execute. It may seem cold and clinical but it’s an effective way to choose how to live one’s life. It was a choice to join a brother hood with two of my fiercest former adversaries. It was a choice to marry your mother and seduce her to my side...and it was a choice that lead to love and as a result you my beauty.

There are still choices to be made now though and in the mongrel cesspool known as Puerto Rico I will again make those choices. I have joined a brotherhood. That will not stop me from making the choices that are necessary in my life to securing my glory. I will choose to stand by my brothers until the time is right, until we have systematically eliminated those who we deem unworthy, those we give hope to order to dash it at the last second. Those like Theron Daggershield, Matt Tastic and so many others. Those who have dreams and ambitions they think they can measure up to but do not realise their potential is limited, unlike you my angel. When the dust settles upon this meticulous genocide of wannabe champions then the dynamic trio, three kings will lock into battle and the fresher, fitter, stronger, better competitor shall win and in your name Kinsey, in the Holmes name I shall reign victorious.

As Holmes talks of his victory, he sways the sleeping babe up and down, no doubt filling her mind with all sorts of bizarre, wondrous dreams and potential nightmares. She is raised up, symbolically.

Holmes: And then, I will have not just fulfilled my life, I will have attained material wealth and a deeper wealth. A queen, an heir, a brotherhood and a title. A golden age is coming and you Kinsey, you are the end goal of it all. Life is a choice. I choose to grab it by the throat and make it my own. And you, Kinsey Holmes, you shall do the same.

The baby’s eyes begin to slowly open and she sees her father, possibly for the first time. He looks mad, eyes bulging, sweat dripping from his brow even a dash of saliva creeping out of his mouth. He’s like a rabid beast, but the child seems to fall in love. She smiles and waggles her arms, giggling. Holmes joins in, restrained compared to his usual cackles. He knows he has an opportunity to repeat history and make some more and he will stop at nothing to bring about the dawn of his new kingdom.
 
Mick Overlast: Fool me once, shame on you…fool me twice, shame on me…

A WZCW sign hangs behind Overlast as he speaks to the camera. All the camera can see of Overlast is his head, which still bears the scar from the chair shot he received from Blade at Ascension, and a little bit of his black T-shirt. Overlast pauses, trying to collect his thoughts.

Overlast: Look at us, Blade. We’re a dying breed in this company. Look around the locker room and see it for yourself. I don’t see wrestlers; I see storytellers – guys who are tripping over their dicks trying to outdo each other…as if they’re fighting for spots on The New York Times’ fiction best-seller list. They couldn’t care less about gaining the upper hand inside that ring; as long as they can be as verbose as possible while stretching reality to its furthest extremes outside of it, they’re fine with it. They act as if their stories are treasures to be heard by the world, when truthfully, outside of a small group of people, the world doesn’t give a shit. And that small group only listens to those stories because it’s paid to do so.

That’s why I related to you, Blade. Our business was going out there and putting on a show for those fans in the ring, not droning on and on about the minutiae of our lives. We may be old school, but we’re different…and if people can’t appreciate that, that’s their loss.

I was looking forward to the Lethal Lottery. Two old-school veterans with an undying passion for this business and an intense craving for championship gold, working together to fulfill our goals. In a match that is sure to feature teams like Cerberus, Young Justice, the Pale Riders and the Elite, any functional working relationship outside of those is a great help. And what better prize to be fighting for than the most prestigious title that this company can offer?

This scenario was made for us, Blade! You and me! The Sons of Destiny! But you had to go and throw it all away.

Now, you’ve left yourself without an advantage in the highest-stakes, biggest numbers game you have ever participated in. You’ve left yourself without an ally in this war, and your strongest supporter is now your most dangerous enemy because he’s the person that knows you best in this business.


I mean, a few weeks ago, I swore to you I wouldn’t try to end your career, and then at Ascension, you turn around and try to end mine, you son of a bitch!

Overlast’s face is turning shades of red, veins in his neck visibly pulsing as the anger flows through him.

Overlast: You’re lucky that I can’t get you inside that ring one-on-one at the Lethal Lottery. But like you said, we have to adapt, and if I can’t severely hurt you physically, then I’ll have to do so psychologically. The only way to do that is to win the World Heavyweight Title.

I know how you operate, and I know no outcome will bother you more than my hand being raised as the new WZCW World Heavyweight Champion. The one title that has eluded your hands for so long – those filthy hands, stained with the blood of those you’ve stabbed in the back; my blood! That title would be in my possession. I would be headlining Kingdom Come, while you’d be begging for a spot on the Kickoff Show. Watching your protégé become the top dog in this company would shatter your black heart, which would nearly give me as much satisfaction as kicking your ass all over San Juan.

I’m not you, Blade. I’m not going to get handed title opportunity after title opportunity just because of my name; this may be my one and only shot at something special. So you can bet your ass that I’m going to push myself to my limits at the Lethal Lottery. And you know as well as I do that those with nothing to lose are always the most dangerous. If I have to exhaust myself to the point that I can no longer breathe, then I will die in that ring if it means you don’t leave with that title.

Overlast then looks down and cracks a smile, then starts to chuckle before looking back up to face the camera again.

Overlast: You know, it was nice of you to introduce me to your friends the other night. I feel so foolish not introducing my own companion to them when I had the chance.

Mick lifts his hand, which is clutching a lead pipe – the same pipe he used to ward off the Men in Black weeks before.

Overlast: This friend of mine will not be leaving my side anytime soon, Blade, so if your boys in black try to get close to me between now and the Lottery match, there’s going to be a little meeting of the minds, if you catch my drift.

Mick grins and looks over the pipe before getting a crazed look and using the pipe to shatter the WZCW sign behind him.

Overlast: You see, Blade, that chair shot not only gave me a slight concussion, but it also gave me clarity. A slimeball like you will never change, no matter what façade you present on the surface. As a result, Mr. Nice Overlast is dead, a casualty of this little game you decided to play with me. The so-called “psychopath” that threatened to end your career? He’s now alive and well, and you’ll find that out for yourself soon enough.

Overlast steps out of view, leaving the broken WZCW sign as the only thing that can be seen in the shot before it fades to black.
 
San Juan, Puerto Rico
A week before Lethal Lottery…
“The Interview”


The executive studio was small but the space has been well utilized. The lobby was well decorated with paintings and photos of many different superstars, ranging from up and coming newcomers such as Lexi Hayes and Frank Mortlock to established veterans like Mikey Stormrage and Matt Tastic. The 2014 Lethal Lottery poster was also on display as a centerpiece. It was impossible to miss.

WZCW has been promoting the pay per view event for the past month and the only thing left to do was to ask the number one question on everyone’s mind: “who were the favorites to win this year?” Aside from previous winners such as Ty Burna and David Cougar, the field was wide open. Everyone on the roster was quick to answer that question with, “I’m going to be the one who wins the Lethal Lottery!”

The match this year was a special one. Instead of a future WZCW world championship opportunity being up for grabs, the championship itself was now on the line. And that was a reward that drew the competitive spirit out of everyone on the roster.

A man enters the lobby of the studio dressed in an expensive suit. His demeanor gives off an aurora of superiority as he flicks his dead cigarette into a nearby trash bin. He takes off his sunglasses and clips them to the edge of his front pocket.

“Excuse me Miss where can I find Johnny Klamor?”

The man asks the receptionist, who greets him with a smile. Even though the man is a little older than what she is used to, he is tall and the suit does little to hide his muscular frame. She can only stare at him absentmindedly.

“He’s down the hall in Studio 2.”

He grins and shoots the woman a smile and a quick gesture of thanks. Down the hall he knocks on the door to the studio and it opens to reveal the man he has been searching for. Johnny Klamor greets him with a handshake, and gestures towards the two white couches.

“Mr. Gozaburo it’s so nice to finally meet you.”

“Just call me Sasuke.”

Sasuke sits on one of the couches while Johnny sits on the other across from him.

“Sasuke Gozaburo. You’re a man with allot of experience in this business. Please tell the WZCW Universe a little bit about yourself.”

“I was a pro wrestler for many years. I was born in Japan and honed my craft in the toughest dojo’s imaginable. I became a world champion there before coming to the States. I rose in prominence and became fortunate enough to become one of the few foreign world champions. I have defeated many legends of the industry in the past, both foreign and domestic. I know what it takes to win a world championship, and I know what it takes to keep a world championship. I held mine for almost three years before I lost it. And now I plan on coaching someone else to follow in my footsteps.”

‘No one is going to doubt my expertise. But Kagura’s still new. Hopefully she’ll end up looking good if I can ham it up with this guy.’

“You speak of your protege, the young and gorgeous Kagura Ohzora, of course.”

“The girl is very talented, Johnny. There is no one else like her in this company. The fans have taken a liking to her from the beginning. Her beauty, combined with her natural charisma, has made her an instant success.”

‘It also doesn’t hurt that there’s a surprisingly large untapped market full of horny weeaboo’s to be pumped for money.’

“So far Kagura is undefeated. She has never been pinned and has never been made to submit. She has wins over Blade and Dr. Zeus, who has to be a favorite to win the Lethal Lottery this year. She has teamed with newcomer Aubrey Sloan to defeat the talented, and likely future tag team champions, Cerberus.”

“All very impressive wins, but last week she demonstrated some weakness when she wasn’t able to win her over-the-top battle royal match. Will this be a sign of things to come in the Lottery?”

Sasuke shakes his head.

“Kagura slipped. It happens to all of us at one point in time Johnny, but she still has allot of momentum going into the Lottery. I know she’s excited to receive an opportunity like this one. She respects everyone on the roster and will give this match everything that she has. All the fans that are supporting her will not be disappointed. The competition won’t stand a chance once she starts picking up momentum…”

Sasuke’s voice remains powerful and steadfast, as Johnny hangs on his every word. The current voice of Aftershock thinks to himself how lucky Kagura must be to have a man like this as her manager.

“… because Kagura is a machine. She has been trained to wrestle in endurance matches like the Lottery, so it doesn’t matter if she enters the match in the beginning or towards the end. The later she enters into the match the worse it’s going to be for her opponents.”

“Kagura has much to prove to not only the fans but to the rest of the competition. Will you be at her side for this match?”

Sasuke shakes his head again.

“No. This is something Kagura has to do by herself. Participating in a match like the Lethal Lottery creates plenty of pressure for a newbie. Every veteran and rising star will be gunning for that championship belt. There isn’t a man or woman in the company right now that can say with a straight face that they aren’t the least bit intimidated by all of this.”

“You’ve been in this business for a long time, Sasuke. Surely the fearless have a better chance of winning this match?”

“The outcome of this match will dictate the direction of the company for months to come. Intimidation can show a man his weaknesses and what he needs to do to overcome them. The men and women that go into this match with pompous and arrogant attitudes won’t last very long. The winner will have to be willing to do whatever it takes in order to win. And that may mean turning on a friend, teaming up with a hated rival, or making a future enemy in the process in order to become the last person standing…”

‘And I know from experience that the veterans in this match that have either won the match before, or have been champions in the past are all hungry to relive those glory days. But their hunger doesn’t begin to compare with the starvation felt by many of the younger men and women that have never tasted that kind of victory before.’

“...For the past few months I have seen everyone in the company start to form alliances, Johnny. The battle lines between different factions have been drawn. And already several wars have been fought. There was a winner who emerged from the carnage as the new WZCW world champion, only to disappear without a moment of hesitation. That decision placing the entire company in the uproar that we see now. Watching from the sidelines, I deliberately shielded Kagura from the rest of her competition.”

“It’s no secret that Kagura has been secluded from the other wrestlers. Everyone of note going into the Lottery has seemingly chosen a side but you two.”

“And I did that for her benefit. She doesn’t need to concern herself with allies in a match like this. Temporary partnerships will be forged out of necessity but they will end as quickly as one can turn his back to his ‘partner.’ That’s one of the advantages that Kagura has going into this match. She hasn’t had enough time to really make any connections with anybody, so she won’t have any trepidation about throwing someone’s bruised and exhausted carcass over the top rope. Another advantage that Kagura has is that she’s not actually going into this match to win the championship belt.”

Johnny raises one of his eyebrows at this strange declaration.

“She’s not? That almost seems like a sacrilegious thing to say. Surely she’s training just as hard for this match just like the rest of her competition.”

Sasuke smirks.

“She is. But Kagura doesn’t have that kind of competitive spirit like the rest of the men and women here do. You’ve got to remember where she comes from. She considers it rude to think in such a cutthroat and vicious manner needed to excel in this type of match. She’s happy just to have the opportunity to compete. Even if she were to be eliminated first it really wouldn’t faze her like it might devastate someone else. And because she isn’t gunning for the championship as hard as many of the other competitors means she’s less likely to make a critical mistake late in the match. In her mind the winner of the match has already been decided, and if she has foreseen her victory in a vision then she will win the match.”

‘Kagura isn’t going to treat this match with the seriousness that it needs because in her mind she is either destined to win or lose. That is just part of the practices of Shinto.’

“You say she has visions?”

“That’s correct. Just like Catholic priests that have the ability to exorcize demons and communicate with the dead, Kagura too can communicate with spirits. But don’t confuse those practices with western beliefs. Hers is a type of clairvoyance; the spirits merely pass information to her. Many miko’s that still practice the ancient arts and traditions have been blessed with this kind of power. However she has told me nothing about any sort of visions related to the Lottery...”

Johnny nods and Sasuke continues to talk.

“...I want to see her win the championship more than anything else in the world Johnny, and so do her fans back in Japan. For too long that world championship belt has been controlled by the same group of people over and over again. It’s time for a newcomer to prove that they have what it takes to climb to the top of the mountain. I believe in Kagura, and I believe that the spirits of the gods do too. If there’s one dark horse that can win the Lethal Lottery next week it’s her.”

‘More than that I need her to win this match for my sake, and not for the fact that we are both Japanese, but for reasons that tear at the back of my mind like a voracious slug trying to burrow its way out of my skull. Such memories are difficult for me to think about so I dared not linger on them for more than a few seconds. But I knew in my heart that eventually my true feelings would come out.’

The interview comes to a close as Johnny wraps up the segment. Sasuke gets up and leaves the building, lighting up a cigarette and putting on his sunglasses, leaving exactly the same way he did when he arrived. He knows that Kagura has to be ready for anything the Lottery chooses to throw at her, and to do that he needed to take matters into his own hands.

He needs to see for himself…

He needs to test her…


San Juan, Puerto Rico
The next day…
“The Vision”


Professional wrestling in Puerto Rico has always been a business magnet. As the years went by many well-known promotions began to emerge. These promotions providing a stage for many future Puerto Rican legends, as well as international stars to showcase their skills. A few of these promotions are no longer in business, while others either bought out their competitors and expanded, or downsized to a smaller market.

Luckily for Sasuke he still has a contact in Puerto Rico that runs a small promotion. The man has agreed to lease his training gym to the Japanese legend for a minimal fee. A steal considering the traveling circumstances with the tour. Thinking back to the interview that he just did with Meltdown commentator Johnny Klamor the previous day, he begins to ponder on whether or not Kagura was ready for the Lethal Lottery match. The girl has her own training regimen which has been suiting her well, but he wants to test the girl himself.

‘I cannot understand what goes through that girl’s head. She has shown very little ‘aggression’ towards this match the past few days. All of her competitors have their eye on the world championship. And yet she merely wants to use the match to “test herself?” I don’t buy that.’

The two of them stand in the ring inside the gym Sasuke has been leasing. The ring is smaller than the one WZCW uses, and the wood floor didn’t have as much give. It is hard and left the muscles sore and aching after a day of training. The duo, clad in gym clothing, stand across from each other. Sasuke takes a step forward and gives his mentee a simple command in Japanese.

“Throw me.”

She obliges. Her skills as a judoka allow her to combat the much larger men that will be in the Lethal Lottery, such as Fallout and Constantine. Throwing Sasuke around helps assure her a fighting chance against the powerhouses of the match.

“You want to strike as quickly as you can, there will be competitors everywhere once the ring fills up. And remember to conserve your energy.”

Kagura nods. She has competed in battle royals before in Japan, but not one as big and as important as the Lethal Lottery.

“Are you still upset that I didn’t win my match last week, Gozaburo-san?”

“I was never really that upset. Your opponent was Daddy Mack. He might be old and over the hill, but he was once a fearsome competitor and he seems to have retained quite a bit of that.”

She was working day in and day out running drills. With the same amount of gusto as everybody else preparing for the Lethal Lottery. But three days ago she began showing little to no enthusiasm about the match at all. Everything has been grinding to a halt.

“I want you to try and throw me out of the ring. I am not going to go easy on you like I have before.”

She nods and ties up with him in a grapple. He pushes her back up against the ropes as she tries to use them as leverage to flip him over the top with her judoka skills, but he stops her momentum with just his raw power and shoves her down to the canvas.

“Go ahead and let it out. Feel some pride for once in your life!”

That gets the response he was looking for. In one swift motion Kagura, using his momentum against him, flips Sasuke over the top rope. He hits the floor hard and rolls sideways. Leaping up he rolls back into the ring and praises her.

But instead of showing enthusiasm she doesn’t smile. She merely glares at him with a lost look in her eyes. He doesn’t understand.

“Again. Come!”

He charges at her and shoves her down. He grabs her arm and pins it behind her back. She winces in pain.

“You’re getting sloppy Kagura! Where’s that fire I saw a couple of days ago?”

‘This doesn’t make any damn sense! What’s wrong with her?’

He locks up with her again and suddenly becomes enraged when he feels her no longer trying to fight him. He grabs her by the hair, yanks her up like a rag doll, and tosses her over the top rope hard. Her body lands with a thud on the ground below.

“Get up and get your ass back into this ring, Kagura! We’re going to keep doing drills until I see that fire inside of you again.”

She stands up slowly, and he can hear a strange noise coming from her. It is like a faint whisper.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry…”

She's crying. She rolls back into the ring and he can see tears streaming down her face. He scoffs at her and shows very little concern.

“What’s with the tears? You might as well not even bother showing up at the Lottery if this is how you’re going to act.”

More apologies. He snaps.

“Do you even want to win the Lottery anymore? What’s been wrong with you these last couple of days? Are you on your period or something? You’re going to have to suck that shit up.”

She stops crying and shoots him a mortified look.

“I-I- want to win! It’s just that I had a bad vision.”

He stops as his anger disappears. Normally she would have told him about a vision… unless of course it was so terrible that it suddenly drained away all her motivation.

‘Oh crap.’

“When?”

“Three days ago. I didn’t say anything because I was afraid to tell you.”

He sighs, as she wipes her face.

“You don’t have to be afraid of me, Kagura. Whatever you saw it’s not a big deal.”

She shakes her head.

“No, Gozaburo-san. I wasn’t afraid that you’d be disappointed in me for wanting to give up, I was afraid that you’d tell me to throw the match.”

He raises an eyebrow. That made no sense. He decides to approach her with a calm, comforting tone.

“What was the vision about?”

Kagura sits down on the canvas with her back against the turnbuckle post. She pulls her legs up towards her chest.

“When we went to the stadium the other day I mediated. I started the ceremony of the sacred fire to read the spirits of the kami that resided there. They were agitated due to all the negative emotions from everyone in the match. That’s all anyone has talked about there for weeks now. The negativity was so thick it was almost putrid. Greed, envy, anger, hatred, selfishness… this match will be a festering pot of men and women doing whatever they can to cheat and undermine each other in order to win. That gold is symbol of evil right now, and that influence has caused the stadium kami to become bloodlusted.”

Sasuke nods. Kagura was gifted in the art of pyromancy. Her clairvoyance was often correct from a philosophical standpoint.

“The negative energy from all the wrestlers has upset the balance between positive and negative forces. Because no one knows for certain what the outcome will be, the only way to “win” the match is to “lose” the match. The more arrogant I become about how sure I am of winning, the more likely the chance I will lose grows. Because everyone else believes that they can win, those thoughts have upset the spirit of the kami to the point where someone may get hurt.”

“If this bothers you so much then why don’t you perform a purification ceremony?”

Kagura stares at the ground.

“I am not sure that I can perform a purification ceremony that large. Usually only priests and priestess with many years of experience are assigned to bless large buildings like stadiums. I do not think that we can get all the materials together in time to perform such a ceremony. I meditated in my room and bathed every couple of hours to cleanse myself, hoping to become pure enough to ask the spirits here for guidance, but I do not think the agitation of the stadium kami will be quelled.”

‘And so I have prepared myself for the fate of losing in order to ‘win.’ That way I can at least restore some order to the unbalance.’

Sasuke stands still deep in thought. It would be tough to put together a purification ceremony of that magnitude in just a few days, but it was worth a shot.

“I don’t want to see you sad like this Kagura. A pretty girl like you should spend her day smiling. If we were to have some sort of purification ceremony, even a small one, do you think you could give it a shot

Kagura lifts her head.

“I suppose. But how could we even get that ceremony together?”

He grins.

“You can leave that to me. I still have some pull that I can use. I’ll make some phone calls…”

Kagura stands and smiles ear to ear for the first time in days.

“Really, Gozaburo-san?”

She leaps up and gives the older man a hug. He in turn pats the girl on the head, in a split decision about returning the hug or not.

A couple of hours later he was on his phone, making due on his word. The cell phone rang… once .. twice…

“… Hello? Yes this is Sasuke Gozaburo I’d like to speak with Vance Bateman. Yes, I’ll hold…”

…​

“Mr. Bateman this is Sasuke… yes, it has been a long time. Yes I am enjoying myself here in WZCW… You don’t say? Listen I have a problem with my mentee Kagura Ohzora. Yes, she is currently undefeated… yes, she is indeed quite stunning. She feels that her role as a miko is not being given enough exposure. I have an idea. Let’s have her do a ceremonial dance for the fans on the All Access pre show. It’ll give the Puerto Rican fans here an introduction to Shinto… I know it’s a good idea… I have a list of supplies that I’ll need… right. Thanks…”

…​

“…Hopefully we can get Kenneth Banks on board to approve this… I’m sure he will too. Tell him that this is best for business.”


San Juan, Puerto Rico
The All Access pre show the day before Lethal Lottery…
“The Purification”



The Lethal Lottery is now a day away. Puerto Rico has become swamped with top WZCW executives and public relations officials coming into town for the All Access pre show. Many of the fans attend for the festivities, which include meet and greets with several superstars. Exclusive interviews and promos have been shown, there are guest speakers, and Kagura is readying herself to give the performance of a lifetime.

Sasuke Gozaburo, remaining true to his word, manages to get Kenneth Banks approval for her performance ceremony. It was a great way to market Kagura for her pending debut in America, as well as selling the diversity of the WZCW company brand. Fans and executives alike began to concentrate themselves at the front of the arena, where the performance would be taking place.

The musicians are dressed in traditional outfits reminiscent of the Edo period. There are drums, flutes, streamers, and several other dancers accompanying Kagura as she performs.

“Welcome everyone to the WZCW All Access show.”

Sasuke addresses the wave of people that has gathered in front of the entrance in droves. Many are taking pictures of the set, while others are making allot of noise.

“This type of ceremony is a sacred dance performed by shrine maidens as an offering for the gods. It will cleanse any “evil spirits” lingering about. This will ensure that all of us attending the Lethal Lottery tomorrow will see the best show possible.”

Kagura comes out dressed in her miko outfit, but she has on a dazzling lion’s mask.

‘I’ve only seen the part of the lion performed by men; I hope I can please the spirits.’

“This lion’s dance is a favored performance of the Ise Grand Shrine. It is a type of ‘dai-kagura’ used by traveling performers.”

Sasuke narrates as Kagura continues to dance. Soon she’s surrounded by other acrobats as she waves her ‘gohei’ wand.

‘Come spirits of the stadium kami.’

Kagura grabs her umbrella and a block of wood. She takes the block of wood, places it on the umbrella, and starts to twirl it above her head balancing the block on the spinning top. The crowd watches in fascination as many fans continue to take pictures, while others film the dance on their phones.

‘I can feel myself being bathed in the negativity that I have felt here for the past several weeks. I don’t understand why everyone is so caught up with winning the world championship in this sort of fashion. Surely the honor of winning would be better suited in a fairer contest. This Lethal Lottery hardly seems very fair. It pits all of my competitors against each other, and the winner is decided by how well they can cheat, bluff, and trick their opponents before throwing him over the top rope. I do not seen the honor in this type of contest.’

“In Shinto it is believed that everything, living and animate, has a spiritual core belonging to a separate god. Miko’s are trained to sense these spiritual cores. This dance is used to invite nearby spirits of the gods and basically entertain them until they are happy. By doing this Kagura can “purify” the stadium, ensuring the safety of all the other wrestlers.”

‘The stadium kami has been so worked up by all the negative action that I fear for my safety as a wrestler. There’s a good chance that someone tomorrow will be injured. With this dance I hope that his anger subsides.’

The fans and the executives are happy, cheering the miko’s performance. Kagura glances over and sees Sasuke’s smiling and laughing. Kagura shoots him a smile in return.

The next phase of the ceremony involves a tradition used at the Ise Jingu shrine called the ‘yudate.’ Several men carry a giant pot full of water and place it over a burning fire in the center of the set. Kagura takes two handfuls of bamboo grass leaf stalks and dips them into the boiling water.

“In this ceremony the miko takes leaves from bamboo stalks and dips them into the burning pot and shakes the water onto the stage, purifying the area.”

Sasuke calls up several volunteers and Kagura ‘blesses them’ by shaking the water on them. It was a safe practice.

And then she begins to dance around the burning pot, with the other acrobats joining in. This was the purification ritual.

‘All I want is for all of us to be safe. I don’t want to see anyone get hurt. Wrestling should be about having fun. It should promote happiness. Not unnecessary risks with bad odds. Even if my competition doesn’t see the objective of the match the way I do, I still respect the fact that they want to face me in combat.’

The dance continues for several more minutes before Kagura ends the ceremony by pouring water on the altar that has been constructed for the stadium kami.

‘The spirit of Amenouzume-no-mikoto has blessed me greatly today.’

---​

It starts to rain at dusk the next morning. From behind her sacred fire Kagura smiles; this was a good sign.

‘The bloodlust of the stadium kami seems to have been quelled some. However the balance of negative and positive energies has not been fully restored. To desire winning this match is rather pointless. I have foreseen the fates of all of the other wrestlers in the match.’

The fire crackles and burns…

Kagura closes her eyes…

“My destiny has already been decided.”
 
Serafina: Ty! Oh my god Ty!

The scene opens to the backstage area after Ascension. Medical staff all rush around Ty Burna, trying to delicately remove the barbed wire crown from his head. He remains motionless as Serafina understandably freaks out.

Serafina: Get the barbed wire off of him! Hurry up!

As the trainers try to cut the barbed wire, Ty's hand suddenly lifts up into the air and grabs hold of the crown. He sits up, his eyes glowing red as the blood continues to poor down his face, the crimson mask very prevalent. He keep shis grip on the barbed wire and with a loud and guttural yell he tears the crown off his head, the barbed wire shredding his flesh and producing a fresh wave of blood. With the crown removed Ty drops down onto the stretcher, the camera focusing on the crown in his hand, the blood dripping off the thorns as the scene goes black.

Ty: Have I grown soft? To allow the Pale Riders to mock me in such a manner. They believe me to have a messiah complex, no, they are wrong. I do not have a messiah complex, I have a superiority complex. You see I am the very best. I am the god damn best warrior in WZCW. And yet, time after time they have left me in a pool of my own blood. The Harbinger of Chaos, he is not the feared man he once was. Perhaps I was wrong about them. They know not of my true devastation I have laid waste to in the past. Lethal Lottery. I have conquered it once. I was the game changer last year. They will know my name, forever scarred in the silence of their own minds.

The scene reopens to Ty's home, inside the bedroom as the various accolades can be seen in Ty's career carefully framed and hung. An ornate Victorian style bed sits in the middle. The sheets have been moved off and bloody bandages can be seen on the floor. The door opens as Serafina walks in, carrying fresh bandages and water. Upon seeing the bed empty she drops the water, the pitcher shattering on impact. She looks around frantically, her eyes wide.

Serafina: Ty?!? Where are you? You need to rest.

There is no response, causing the rogue to turn and rush out of the room. The camera follows her down the stairs, and then the sound of wrestling can be heard from the living room. Serafina quickly turns, and sees Ty sitting on the couch, shirtless but wearing a pair of jeans. A lit cigarette is in his hand, and he takes a quick drag as he studies the video on screen. On the table in front of him is a number of dossiers, though three stand out. Dr. Zeus. Amber Warren. Fallout.

Ty: One has been eliminated. Not in the way I had planned Serafina, but one is out of the way.

Ty reaches out and grabs a red marker, drawing an X over Amber's face.

Serafina: How are your wounds? Let me look at them.

Serafina kneels down on the couch next to Ty, placing her hands on his head and forcing him to tilt towards her. Though the cuts remain, it looks as if they had healed a bit.

Ty: Do you think such an act would keep me down love?

Serafina: No matter what you say, you are still human Tyrone.

Ty rolls his eyes, slightly irritated at the full use of his name. He looks at the dossier for Amber for a few moments before tossing it aside. Serafina watches him quietly before wrapping her arms around his as he leans back, taking another drag from the cigarette and exhaling slowly.

Ty: What word of El Califa Dragon?

Serafina: He has returned to Mexico. It appears that he is training non stop for the Lottery.

Ty: Good. Though we cannot confirm an alliance, I am more than sure he will be there when the Riders come in.

Serafina: You know how the Lottery goes Ty.

Ty: Indeed I do. And entering at number one means I have the most daunting task of all of WZCW in winning back my title.

Serafina looks up at Ty as he puts the cigarette out and takes a deep breath. He looks down to Serafina, seeing the concern in her eyes.

Ty: I will be fine Serafina, I can assure you of that. The time has come to rid ourselves once and for all of the Pale Riders. This all begun with them taking my title, and it will end with me reclaiming it!

Serafina: That's not what I'm worried about Ty. Look at the extremes they've gone through to make your life hell. The wounds are still fresh, I don't want them creating more.

Ty: Are you saying my dear Serafina, that I should give up my chance in the Lottery?

Serafina: In my perfect world, yes. I know it will not happen, but what more do you have to prove Ty? You've done everything in WZCW. You're the only one to fully own WZCW. Retire. Please. I just don't want you to get hurt again. I can't take it anymore.

Tears stream down from Serafina's eyes as she buries her head into his arm. Ty gazes down to her and slowly moves his arm around her, hugging her close. He sighs to himself as he stares over at the screen, the ending of Lethal Lottery IV coming on the screen. Ty watches himself on the screen holding his arm up as the lights dim down around him. His eyes glow red briefly as that rush goes through him again.

Ty: I have done everything yes Serafina. However, I am not done proving my domination over WZCW. I am not done with the Riders until I have them all six feet under my boots. If I were to disappear, they would still target not only myself, but you as well. No, I must put an end to this Serafina. There will be no more pain caused by them, for I shall cause them the ultimate pain. Not a physical pain, but for them to live with the fact that for all their efforts, I will still hold the WZCW World Heavyweight Championship in my hands!

Serafina lifts her head up and wipes the tears away, nodding her head slowly. She leans over and kisses Ty on the cheek, and a smirk forms on his face.

Ty: By the way, you got a collect call from a Mexican jail. Anyone you know?

Serafina looks taken back, her eyes widening as she grabs her phone and quickly goes through it.

Serafina: Who would call me from there?

Ty: You do something while we were on tour that I need to be aware of love?

Serafina shakes her head emphatically before checking her voicemail. Ty watches on intrigued.

Serafina: It's Mikey....he said that he and Tastic got into some trouble, something about demanding Taco Bell and tequila, and poni......

Ty's eyes narrow as he stares down Serafina who gulps as she puts her phone down.

Serafina: Um....nothing. Never mind that. Do we help them out?

Ty looks towards Serafina out of the corner of his eyes. He stands up and begins walking out of the room.

Ty: No, I foresee them getting out their own way.

Serafina: Where are you going Ty?

Ty stops just outside the room, looking back to Serafina, a sadness in his eyes.

Ty: I need to visit Anthony.

Ty turns and walks away as the scene fades away and back to a graveyard, a cloudy sky threatening rain but so far the ground is dry. An older woman an be seen standing in front of a gravestone, the name Henderson engraved in it. Suddenly Ty walks up next to the older woman before kneeling down and placing a few flowers down on the grave. He stands back up and folds his hands in front of him, his head lowered.

Woman: Are you ever going to tell me about what happened that night Tyrone?

Ty: I would rather you not know the details Ms. Henderson.

Ms. Henderson: Is it so much to know how your son died? That is all I ask Tyrone.

Ty: I don't think you would believe me if I told you.

Ms. Henderson laughs sarcastically as she continues looking down at the gravestone.

Ms. Henderson: Dear, against my better judgement in watching the crap you're involved with, I have seen what you are capable of. You were always nothing but trouble, and I know you had something to do with it. Now come clean with me boy!

Ms. Henderson turns towards Ty, a look of anger in her eyes as she stares at him. Ty remains focused on the gravestone, the shame of that fateful night washing over his face.

Ty: Anthony.....he was my constant. He was the one that made life worth living through those cold nights. And so were you Ms. Henderson. It was because of you that I had a warm place to sleep when I was on your good side. You were the mother I never had. And so I feel the need to protect you from what happened that night, and the fate that I wove for myself to try and save him.

Ms. Henderson: Tyrone....please. It's been long enough since then.

Ty shakes his head as he squeezes his hand into a fist. He stares forward at the grave, a small tear falling from his eye.

Ty: No Ms. Henderson. Perhaps one day, but for now, just take solace in the fact your son died a hero and at peace with his life.

Ms. Henderson suddenly slaps Ty across the face, forcing him to tilt his head slightly as she stares with anger at him.

Ms. Henderson: Damn it Tyrone. I gave you shelter and clothing when I could barely feed myself and Anthony. You're a son to me. Now please tell me.

Ty sighs and nods his head, turning to Ms. Henderson and whispering to her for several moments. The camera is unable to pick up anything that is being said and soon Ty pulls away from her, a look of sadness on her face.

Ms. Henderson: I.......I see. And you're certain of this.

Ty nods his head and crosses his arms, turning back to the grave as rain begins to trickle down. He reaches back and pulls the hood of his hoodie up to protect him as Ms. Henderson looks to her son's grave as well.

Ms. Henderson: I see now why you wouldn't tell me. But every time I ask you when we meet like this, you refuse. Why now?

Ty: I may not have the chance to do so again. Perhaps it has been the guilt built up over the years, but I suppose it was time for you to know.

Ms. Henderson: Tyrone, I've buried one of my sons. I will not bury another. Now you listen good to me. Whatever obstacles you face I know you have it in you to face them heads on and win. I don't care for the details, Lord knows if I know half of the things you and Anthony got into I would likely have a heart attack. Just promise me one thing Tyrone.

She reaches forward and places a hand on the side of Ty's face, her eyes showing a warm love and a smile forms on her face.

Ms. Henderson: Win for me, win for yourself, and win for Anthony.

Ty reaches up and places his hand on hers, nodding his head slowly.

Ty: I promise you this Ms. Henderson. Thank you.

Ms. Henderson: Don't thank me yet. If you give up and I see you here again, I am going to give you a whipping that you'll never forget.

The two share a laugh as Ty pulls her in for a hug. She returns the embrace before she turns and extends out her umbrella, walking away slowly as Ty watches her silently. Serafina walks up behind him suddenly.

Serafina: Ms. Henderson?

Ty nods his head as he kneels down in front of the grave, whispering a few things before standing and turning to Serafina.

Serafina: So did you hide our secret from her again?

Ty looks over his shoulder at the fading glimpse of her, a smile on his face still.

Ty: No, she is well aware now. However, I got the slap before I told her, not after. So take that for what it is.

Serafina smiles as she looks up at Ty and wraps her arms around him. Ty kisses her forehead before looking back to Anthony one last time.

Ty: Come, it's time to get ready.

The star crossed couple begins walking away as the scene fades around the flowers left on the grave. It soon returns to Ty standing in a black room, only a flame standing in the center. Serafina is perched atop an unseen edifice, her violet eyes gleaming in the flame.

Serafina: Christ once wrote to love thy enemy, to turn the other cheek.

Ty: And yet when angered he tore apart the very temple he studied in.

Serafina: A messiah of the people. A martyr for a cause.

Ty: These are the fallacies that Dr. Zeus holds dear to his heart. A false prophet for a God that he cannot even face without his eyes looking to the side.

Serafina: The drums of war have sounded, and the time has come for the final battle.

Ty walks forward with his hands extended out, the flame flashing upwards at his beckon. Images are faintly seen in the flame, the Elite, the Pale Riders, El Califa Dragon, Young Justice, the images continue on as Ty watches with intent interest.

Ty: And though my enemies are the basis of my focus, so too are the other warriors that shall see me in that ring as well. They all pine for what I have held. I walk in as the champion without his title. The King without his crown. Yet I still sit upon my throne watching the pawns move about their game, trying to desperately collapse the King into nothing. This is more than just a challenge to take back what is mine. This is a quest to make my greatness unquestioned. A third title reign, a second Lethal Lottery victory. However many men enter the fight, they shall be the ones crossed out one by one.

Serafina: They look in the mirror, but see only the blinded vision of delusional greatness that will never settle down around them. An aura of weakness, masked by their hallucinations.

Ty: And yet it is that delusion that makes every man dangerous. From the very dregs of the company, to the Elite themselves. They walk into the domain of the Harbinger. I walk in as the first warrior, and I will be the last remaining. Just as it has been from the beginning in WZCW. But now, they will look to make their name off of mine. They will get their fifteen minutes of fame if they eliminate the King of Darkness. But the King does not abdicate his thrown for anyone!

Ty reaches into the fire and grabs something, slowly pulling out his large scythe. He spins it in front of him before slamming the handle down onto the ground, his eyes glowing a bright red as he grits his teeth.

Serafina: As the sun falls, darkness shall come. A demon has been reborn, a more sinister devil that faces an army of individuals, ready to take the throne from the one true King.

Ty: My title has been sullied. What has become synonymous with me has become nothing more than a prop for a man that could only steal a title and immediately walk away, knowing full well the fangs of the serpent were poised to strike. The poison of cowardice flows through The Beard's veins, he gained nothing from his hollow victory. A champion in name only, now he no longer even holds that distinction. But I shall forever be known as the champion. The one that everyone stacks up again. You have failed Riders. Dr. Zeus and your lackeys have lost one of their own, and she lies broken because of your mistakes. You will all join her, and the Harbinger shall bring forth the light that shines through your false prophecies!

Serafina drops down to the ground, walking to the fire and standing in front of Ty, her arms raised up at her sides.

Serafina: For the Kingdom of WZCW lies in the hands of the everlasting Harbinger!

Ty: And soon, the World Title shall be back where it belongs. I will ensure that all grasping hands are sliced off at the wrist towards my holy grail. Their fingers nothing more than added steps to the throne that I have claimed, and forever shall hold.

Serafina: The Serpent slithers, ready to strike, and devour it's prey.

Ty: The final stanza has come in the story of the Pale Riders! And I shall be the maestro that writes the final line with their own blood. Victims shall lay broken at my feet, knowing what it means to be in a world title match with the Great Harbinger of Chaos! Every sacrifice shall be at my altar, another story ended by my hands. Hopes and dreams dashed except for my own. The time has come for the unrelenting force of Chaos to be the feared nightmare in WZCW. The bell shall toll, signifying the end of the fradulent, and the return of the true warrior to his proper place, in the center of the beginning of the end!

Serafina: Thus it is written.

Ty pulls his scythe back and swings forward, cutting the flame with the blade and leaving the room in darkness.

Ty: So it shall come to pass.

Suddenly the flame comes to life again and explodes up into the room, leaving the lasting image of Serafina kneeling down in front of Ty, who holds his scythe out in front of them both. The scene cuts to static.
 
El Califa: Amber.....be ok. Amber please be ok. El Califa begs of you.

The scene opens to inside a Houston hosptial room. Amber Warren can be seen lying there with her eyes closed. Califa sits next to the bed, still in his ring gear as he has his hands clasped together and his head down. The room is silent aside from the beeps produced from the machines around Amber. Quiet sobs can be heard as Califa reaches under his mask to wipe his tears away.

El Califa: This went too far. The Pale Riders, Dr. Zeus, The Dragon Queen. Everything. El Califa is so sorry Amber Warren. He lead you down this path, and it is his fault for what has happened. All he wanted to do was be your tag team partner. I should have refused the World Title shot. We would have still been partners.

He reaches out and places his hand on hers, grasping it tightly as he lowers his head to his forearm. Suddenly a knock can be heard and the door opens, with Nate walking in. Califa looks up, and one could feel the solemn exchange between the two. Nate looks to Amber and sighs, walking over to the bed.

Nate: I came as soon as I could Califa....

El Califa: El Califa knows Nate.....I had them move her to Houston, it was the closest hospital in the United States. He felt that she would get much better care here.

Nate: I appreciate that Califa. How is she?

El Califa: Amber Warren has a severe concussion. The force of the chair shot was too great for her. She has been sleeping for the past few hours.

Nate: Listen, Califa, get out of here.

Califa's head shoots up as he looks to Nate, shaking his head.

El Califa: She may have left his side for the Riders, but El Califa refuses to leave hers!

Nate: No, that's not what I meant Califa. The Lethal Lottery...you have to get ready for it.

El Califa: He doesn't care about the World Title Nate. Not at this moment. It's the wedge that was driven between us all.

Nate: So all this suffering, all this pain and fighting was for nothing?!

Nate stands up straight as does El Califa, the two staring each other right in the eyes.

Nate: My sister may have made some bad choices, but you know as much as I do she would kill to be in that Lethal Lottery. You still have that chance Califa. Your chance to redeem yourself and take what was stolen from you. To take down the Riders and prevent their reign from extending. Their actions have taken away the most important person in both our lives, so take away their chance at the World Title.

El Califa remains silent, crossing his arms as his head tilts to the side. Thoughts run through his mind, the Riders must pay for this. Califa nods and looks back to Nate.

El Califa: Dr. Zeus, Fallout. They shall fall under the might of a raging dragon!

Nate forces a smile and nods his head. He reaches his hand out for a handshake and Califa returns in earnest.

Nate: Los Magnificos Dragones was more than a team. It was a family. They broke that family, and it's time for us to strike back! Your students, they await your return and are ready to help you train to your very best. Make us all proud Califa, make Amber proud and show the world what you have in you.

Califa nods his head enthusiastically and looks down to Amber. He leans down and places his forehead on hers and whispers to her.

El Califa: Rest easy Amber Warren. Regardless of what happens, El Califa shall always be by your side. He will make you proud of him, and when you are healed, Los Magnificos Dragones will be whole again. This, he promises you.

Califa pulls away from Amber slowly, not turning from her before walking towards the door. He stops and looks back, as Nate now sits next to his sister to watch over her. Califa nods his head as the scene fades to black momentarily. It comes back up to inside El Califa's gym. The students go about their training sessions, when the door opens and El Califa walks in. The gym goes silent as all of his students look towards their mentor. An excited cheer echoes through the gym as the students all run towards Califa.

Student 1: Califa! Has vuelto! (Califa! You have returned!)

Student 2: Cuéntanos de tus batallas junto al Demonio del Caos! (Tell us of your battles alongside the Demnio del Caos!)

Student 3: Es Amber ok? (Is Amber ok?)

With that question, everyone goes quiet as Califa looks to all his students, a sadness coming over the group. Califa sets his bag down and crosses his arms and nods his head.

El Califa: Todo el mundo. Amber Warren es herido en estos momentos. Un compañero dragón se vio afectada por los Jinetes de Pale ... Ella está descansando cómodamente, sin embargo, y ella estará con nosotros una vez más muy pronto. (Everyone. Amber Warren is hurt right now. A fellow dragon was hurt by the Pale Riders... She is resting comfortably though, and she shall be with us once again very soon.)

The mood does not change however, the students still with their heads lowered. Califa places his hands on the shoulders of the two nearest students, clearing his throat.

El Califa: Listen. El Califa knows he has not been here much. Nate has done a wonderful job filling in for him. El Califa was in a very dark place. He apologizes for his absence. You can be assured that El Califa is back. He is so proud of every single one of you and the hard work you have put in. The Lethal Lottery....El Califa now looks to you all for help. It is in your strength, that El Califa shall find what he needs to be victorious! And with the World Title around my waist, his............our gym shall become world renown! Just think of how proud Amber Warren shall be of all of you when she returns. It is in you that he looks to for the courage to face all the WZCW fighters. It is by my hand, but your ferocity, that this dragon shall slay the Pale Riders one by one! For Amber Warren, for Nate, for El Califa, for yourselves. Will you help him become stronger and faster?

The students all look up and yell out ecstatically. They raise their arms up high into the air.

Students: Porque nosotros somos los dragones! Y siempre seremos victoriosos! (For we are dragons! And we shall always be victorious!)

Califa looks towards them all and nods his head, a new beginning had shown itself, renewed strength and power in the hopes of his people. The scene fades out and back in, now with El Califa in the ring, staring across at one of his most polished pupils. The two lock up and soon three more students jump in the ring. Califa arm drags the one student away from him, and soon the ring starts filling up, mimicking the Lethal Lottery for Califa. The students start fighting one another, trying to eliminate the other. Califa does his best to dodge being thrown out multiple times, clearly the target everyone wants to eliminate.

El Califa: A dragon shall always prevail over the odds!

Califa rolls past one of his students and dropkicks him out over the top rope. Others are tossed over as well and the heated battle in the ring continues. Califa tosses over another when three students suddenly flip Califa over the top rope. He lands on the apron and grabs the arm of one student and hops up onto the top rope. He balances before springing off and hitting a head scissors, sending the student tumbling over and to the outside. Finally it's down to Califa and his three most experienced fighters. He stares them down as they conspire against their teacher. He motions for them to come at them. They rush towards him but Califa pulls the top rope down, eliminating one before springboarding off and landing on one's shoulders. He rolls forward and grabs the neck of the student and delivers a cutter, knocking him down before sweeping the leg of the other. He stands up and looks at his handy work when suddenly two students hop on the apron and grab his arms, trying to pull him over. The other two recover and try to help, but Califa kicks them off.

El Califa: One must always have eyes in the back of their head!

Califa breaks free one arm and punches an attacker off of him. He hits an enziguri to knock the other off. He turns and rushes towards the remaining two with a cross body, sending all three over the top rope but he holds on to the top rope, flipping back into the ring as the students clap on the outside.

El Califa: You see, even though the odds were against him, El Califa was successful in winning. This is what he faces in the Lethal Lottery if the Pale Riders combine forces, or the Elite. El Califa may look to Ty Burna for assistance, but he cannot rely on such a loose alliance. It is clear that he must do this on his own inside that ring. Thank you my students. You have grown so much in his time away.

The students all enter the ring, listening intently to their teacher's words.

El Califa: El Califa is ready for the Lethal Lottery. He has a gift for you all. You see, while you cannot be in that ring with me, you may all be with me in the arena. El Califa has bought you passage to Puerto Rico. And he hopes that you shall all cheer his name loudly when his music hits!

The students look to each other excitedly before two of them lift Califa high in to the air.

Students: El Califa! El Califa! El Califa!

Califa is mobbed by the students as he spreads his arms out and stares up at the ceiling as we fade away again, only to return to outside of Culiacan Mexico. A bonfire has been lit on the cliff overlooking the city, the crackling of flames the only sound heard. El Califa walks up wearing baggy jeans and a black hoodie, holding a mask in his hand and Los Magnifios Dragones' replica belts in the other. He kneels down in front of the fire and places the belts in front of him, and then unfurls the mask, revealing it to be the Dragon Queen Mask. He places it down on the titles, bringing his hands up together as he lowers his head. He reaches down and grabs the mask, staring at it for several moments.

El Califa: The Dragon Queen shall be no more!

Califa stands and throws the mask in the fire, and it is immediately enveloped. He watches quietly as the nightmare mask is enveloped. He reaches into his hoodie and brings forth the El Demonio Dragon mask. He tosses this in as well.

El Califa: This goes too for El Demonio Dragon. A shadow that will no longer follow over his shoulder!

The two masks lie next to each other, the fabric burning away slowly as Califa crosses his arms, standing over the fire, watching intently.

El Califa: The Lethal Lottery...... it all comes down to this. El Califa faces an uphill battle. He knows the Pale Riders shall target him. They want to destroy him. But they shall face a new dragon. A dragon clear of distractions and his goal clear. The World Heavyweight Title deserves a champion the people can respect! The Demonio del Caos may have held it before, but even the Harbinger can hope to stop the fire inside this Dragon! And so he shall carry on the legacy of Los Magnificos Dragones! We have been the best since we came together, and El Califa shall prove that against every single warrior in WZCW.

Califa reaches down and grabs the two title belts, holding them high into the air as his head is lowered.

El Califa: This embodied the synchronization of two lethal dragons for a common purpose. This is the blood of El Califa Dragon and Amber Warren. This is honor. This is respect. This is everything the Pale Riders are not!

Califa lifts his head up high, the fire seemingly lifting high into the air as he yells.

El Califa: You didn't care that you injured Amber Warren. All you cared about was destroying Ty Burna. You have overlooked the most dangerous weapon aimed right at your hearts. The Dragon's Fang shall pierce through your chest and your black blood shall be my war paint. El Califa Dragon shall be the dagger that slits the throat of the Pale Riders once and for all! And in his victory, your greatest achievement in corrupting Amber Warren shall become your greatest mistake.

He lowers the title belts down and places them on the ground, reaching up and lifting the hood up over his head, only the gleaming of gold eyes from his mask can be seen in the light of the fire. He reaches behind him and withdraws his dagger, holding it to the side as he stares down into the fire.

El Califa: Like a shadow I shall haunt my prey. The Dragon's bite shall be filled with venom, and it will poison all in his path. And when the dust has settled, and the Pale Riders extinguished, WZCW shall know the roar of the dragon, and the true heart of a champion. For I am El Califa Dragon.

The fire crackles loudly as the fire finishes consuming both evil masks, a black cloud floating from the fire into the air as a scream of agony can be heard.

El Califa: And I am, the next World Heavyweight Champion.

The camera zooms out as the scene cuts to black.
 
At the WZCW HQ, Mr. Banks is pacing back and forth behind his desk, a brown package in hand. Myles and Bateman are sitting on the other side of the desk, an air of nervousness about them.

There’s a knock at the door. Banks comes to a halt.

“Come in.” he grunts.

The door opens and Mick Overlast pokes his head in. He has a badly swollen black eye that seems to throb sorely.

“You wanted to see me?” asks Overlast.

“Yes, Mick. Please come in.”

Overlast enters and closes the door behind him. He walks over to the desk.

“Take a seat.” Banks mumbles.

He sits down between Bateman and Myles, not looking at either of them.

“Where the hell is Becky?” Banks snaps at his GM’s.

“We don't know. Calls are going straight to her voicemail.” answers Myles.

“Damnit. We’ll have to proceed without her.”

He picks up a remote control off his desk and pushes a button. A flat screen TV descends from the ceiling on the wall behind him. He holds up the package to the other three men. Written on it:

“Do not open until the day after Meltdown 107”

“This was sent to my office just over a week ago,” he begins, “From Blade. I didn’t think much of it at first. But then I saw what happened on Ascension…”

Overlast clenches his jaw at the mention of the last TV show.

“…And I think this is something we have to deal with now. So we’re going to watch whatever this is, and then figure something out.”

He starts to tear the package open...


-------------------------------------------------------

The four men are watching the recorded video from Blade on the TV. It’s about five minutes in:

“I hope you’re watching. ‘Cause you won’t wanna miss this.”

Blade paces back and forth in his locker room.

“This all started about three months ago. When Triple X returned, he targeted me for some reason. It didn’t really bother me, I’ve been targeted by everyone from Rush to Matt Tastic. What bothered me was how it all… Worked out.”

He shakes his head bitterly.

“Y’see, the referee ended my match with Triple X when I got injured. And Triple X proceeded to attack me after the bell. I was badly hurt, and he tried to finish the job. Now, my memory of that night is a little fuzzy, for obvious reasons, but the next thing I remember is people talking about Triple X’s performance in the World Title match.”

Blade eyes go wide as he feigns shock.

“Wait, what? Triple X in the World Title match? Surely I was mishearing things?”

He forces a laugh. But the laughter ends suddenly, and he stares into the camera, stone-faced.

“Nope. An hour after attacking me and trying to end my career, Triple X was competing for the WZCW World Heavyweight Title. He got to the right place by doing the wrong thing… But I held my tongue, I had more important things to worry about.”

He grinds his teeth for a moment as he weighs up his next words.

“My best friend had just been exiled from the company. Bob was forced to compete with a broken arm. A broken arm that had been caused by Diabolos. And he lost because of that arm. The psychopath stuck around, and the nicest guy in the company was forced into early retirement. And nobody batted a fucking eyelid.”

His voice is getting louder and angrier by the second.

“So then I start fighting back against the man that hurt my friend. I start attacking Diabolos, giving him a taste of his medicine. And y’know what happens? People start looking at me differently because I hurt Diabolos, like I’m the villain. PEOPLE START TELLING ME I NEED TO CALM DOWN!” he screams, his voice shaking with rage.

"So I did that,” he continues, his voicing calming slightly. “I left Diabolos alone for a couple of weeks, safe in the knowledge that the match was official. I could wait that long to get my hands on him.”

He smirks as he remembers the match.

“The match came around, and I beat the hell out of him. I was able to get all my frustration out. It was… Therapeutic, even euphoric at times… And then Overlast decided to make his big return.”

His smirk fades.

“He stuck his nose in a match that I already had won. He got into the ring, and extended his hand.”

Blade extends his hand, as if offering a handshake to an invisible man.

“And I rejected him.”

He clenches his hand into a fist before lowering his arm.

“This man cost me a year of my career by attacking me when I was already injured. A year. That’s an eternity in this business. I wasn’t going to just accept his apology like that. I’m no push over. I have pride, and I have principles.”

The anger starts to bubble up inside him again.

“And then I go backstage, and people are giving me those funny looks again. Some people are straight up pissed off at me. ‘Why didn’t you shake his hand, Blade?’ ‘You should’ve forgiven him, Blade…’ ‘Why can’t you just let it go, Blade?’”

Blade looks down at the ground. And then, he starts to chuckle softly… The grows into a full belly laugh… In seconds, he’s roaring with laughter as he looks back up into the camera, a deranged look in his eyes.

“And that’s when it hit me. I got it.” he continues as he chortles, “It didn’t matter what I did, people were never going to see me the right way. I’ve been betrayed by the fans, I’ve been betrayed by management, and I’ve been betrayed by everyone’s new favourite son, Mick Overlast.”

He wipes a tear from his eye and looks into the camera with a broad smile.

“See, I used to think that I could make everyone equal by taking those in poverty and pain and raising them up to the same level as the rich and the happy. But that doesn't work. People who get everything handed to them take things for granted, just like Mick Overlast took me for granted. And then it hit me… The only way I can make everyone equal is to take those who are put on pedestals, and drag them down to my level.”

He licks his lips gleefully

“So I’m gonna do that. I’m gonna drag all of you down to my level. I recommend that you don’t resist. Just… Let it happen. You might enjoy it down here. HA! See, it’s not about me winning. It’s about making sure everyone loses. I don’t care about winning the Lethal Lottery. I don’t care about the World Title. Who needs it!? What I care about is… Freeing you all from the shackles of what you mistakenly think is important.

“You created this monster. But don’t fear me. No, that’s not what I want… I want you to join me. Please. Think about how much fun we can all have!!”

Blade smiles, his wide, soulless eyes staring into the camera. A look to make your skin crawl.

“Anyways, I leave you to think about my offer. I have to go have a little roof date with Becky! Bye, boys! See you soon!”

As Blade laughs madly, the video cuts to static.

All four men in the room are speechless. Banks walks over to his mini bar and lays out four glasses. He grabs a bottle of amber liquid, twists the top off, and pours some into each glass.

He carries the glasses over to his desk, handing one each to Bateman, Myles and Overlast. He sits down at his desk and downs his drink in one gulp. He shakes his head, staring it to his glass before looking up at Overlast.

“Mick, you know Blade better than anybody. I’m asking you to stop him. Not just for us, but for the fans and for yourself.”

Overlast nods a determined nod.

“I was planning on getting revenge on Blade anyway, but this is worse than I realised… I’ll stop him. I won’t let him hurt anyone else.

Overlast gets to his feet and strides out of the office. Banks presses down the button on his desk’s intercom system.

“Alice, we have to stop Becky from going to see Blade. He’s lost his mind, and he’s likely dangerous. Call backstage staff, production staff, other wrestlers, whoever you can get a hold of. Tell them to call and text Becky saying she needs to get back to the office urgently."

“Yes, sir!” comes the receptionist’s reply through the intercom.

Banks slumps down into his chair and runs a hand over his tired face.

“What do we do?” asks Bateman.

“We hope that Overlast can get the job done…”

Myles and Bateman exchange a look of concern.


----------------------------------------------------​


Blade stands on the roof of a five storey building on the edge of an unknown city. It’s eerily still and quiet all around. Despite the time of year, thick grey clouds hang threateningly overhead, the wind blowing Blade’s black trench coat back.

The door from the stairwell opens, and Becky Serra steps out onto the roof, wrapped up in a big raincoat. She looks exhausted as she walks over to Blade.

“I’m here. What do you want?” she sighs.

“Becky! Always a delight!” Blade replies with a broad smile.

“You know I don’t do this stuff anymore! I’m a GM now. I’ve got one hundred other things I should be doing instead of standing up here!” She growls back.

“And yet you’re here!”

“Because no one heard from you in over a week until you called me.”

“Yeah. Don’t we have such a great friendship?”

He puts an arm around her, which she aggressively pushes off.

“Stop it, Blade!”

He snickers at her look of annoyance.

“What do you want!? I’m freezing up here!” she snaps.

“Imagine how they feel...” Blade muses as he stares off into the distance.

“Who?”

With a menacing smirk, Blade saunters over to the edge of the building. He gestures for Becky to follow, which she does, reluctantly. Blade points downwards, and Becky looks over the edge and gasps.

On the street below are the Men in Black, standing to attention in five rows of four. Each man wears only a black wife beater, black cargo pants and black boots. Despite the icy bite of the wind, they stand completely still, with no expression on their faces.

Blade sits down, his legs dangling precariously over the edge.

“Lighten up, Becks!”

Becky doesn’t respond, as her anxiousness begins to grow.

“Firstly, I want to formerly introduce you to the Men in Black. They’re my new buddies!”

Blade gives a cackling laugh, one that makes Becky visibly wince with revulsion. She doesn’t respond, but she’s listening intently as she stands behind Blade.

“Y’see, a lot my friends having been getting hurt lately. Poor Grizzly Bob got beat up by Diabolos. And then Mick Overlast got hurt! Although, I guess that one was my fault… But it’s okay, it’s okay, I sent flowers to his hospital room! HAHAHA! But anyways, all my new friends started dropping like flies, so I got me some new friends. But they’re a little off, y'see. A few crumbs short of a cake, if y'know what I mean..."

He swings his legs back and forth as he looks down to the street.

“Becky, I came back to WZCW as someone who wanted to help people. The people… The people said they were behind me.”

He smiles a twisted smile as he reminisces.

“When I was throwing them free t-shirts, and taking on the bad guys, they cheered me on. Because, from the comfort of their sofas, it was so easy to cheer me on. WOOOOOOOOOO!” His yell is piercing, “And I mean, who wouldn’t want a free t-shirt!?”

He cackles madly again. For a moment, Becky almost seems to feel some sympathy for the man sitting in front of her.

“Triple X said the audience was made up of hypocrites and fools. He said I was crazy to embrace them.”

He jumps to his feet, strides over to Becky and grabs her face in his hands.

“Do I seem crazy to you, Becky?”

She’s clearly terrified as he stares into her eyes with an unblinking glare.

“Am I missing something here? Am I the crazy one?”

Then, he let’s go of her and begins that sickeningly gleeful howling again.

“But yes. Yes, it was rather silly of me to trust the audience like that. WHOOPS! I was so adorable back then. Just a kid! In my excitement and my naivety, I mistakenly thought that suburban America would get my message. Maybe I should’ve put it on the Twittergram. They'd understand it just fine then, right?”

He begins to walk circles around a frozen Becky. With a rumble of thunder, rain starts to fall from the sky, splattering down to the roof and the street below.

“But I've figured something out. People are unreliable when they’re able to think for themselves. Anyone who thinks for themselves is a liability. I learned that the hard way…”

He looks down at the Men in Black. They haven’t moved an inch this whole time, even with the rain.

“These men, these guys right here… They’re not a liability, because they can’t think for themselves. They’re broken, just how I like ‘em. They’re like puppies sitting in front of you, waiting for you to throw the ball.”

He begins clapping rhythmically. The Men in Black follow suit, clapping along with their leader.

“Some of them, they’re just junkies, waiting for me to give them their next fix. And some of them are just angry, violent, disturbed men to whom I’ve made… Certain promises. I’ve promised that I’ll bring them to the WZCW to fight people and hurt people and cause all kinds of pain! Oh boy, they liked the sound of that! HAHA! So they became loyal soldiers on a handshake, and a promise of victims.”

His applauding becomes louder and faster. And then he suddenly stops, with the MiB stopping a split second later. He looks back at Becky with a smirk.

“Y’know where I found these freaks, Becks? They’re military rejects!! They couldn’t be tamed by drill sergeants and tough love, so they were discharged! And yet, I’m standing before them, and they’re willing to do anything for me! What does that tell you about the society we’re living in!? What does it say about how this country works, huh!?”

Blade shakes his head as he stares down at his army.

“These guys, they don’t wanna fight for freedom. They don’t wanna fight for their country. They just wanna… Fight.”

He walks over to Becky. She doesn’t have the bravery to back away from him.

“And who am I to deny them of that?”

Suddenly, he grabs Becky’s arm, and pulls her over to the front of the roof. Holding her by the arm, she teeters right on the edge.

“BLADE!”

“You wanna know how loyal they are?” he whispers, a sick look in his eyes.

“Don’t do this…” she sobs, as tears begin to flow down her face.

“I could let you go right now, and they’d catch you…”

“Stop this…”

Blade begins to snicker.

“…Assuming I told them to…”

“GOD DAMMIT, LET ME GO!” she screams through the tears.

Blade pulls her in and lets her go. She stumbles across the roof, trying to
compose herself.

“You’re sick…” hisses at him.

“Well then it was probably a terrible idea to come up there with me!” he shoots back through his laughter, “Now go. Go tell them everything.”

After one last look of anger, Becky turns and storms away from him, pushing through the door to the stairwell and disappearing out of sight.

Blade strolls over to the edge of the roof again, and gazes down at his recruits.

“Hey, boys! Listen, there’s been a little mistake… And long story short, there’s only one spare bed to sleep in tonight at the hideout. So, to see who gets it, we’re going to play a game. Doesn’t that sound fun?”

The MiB stay completely still and silent. Blade holds up Becky’s cell phone.

“The first person to bring me this phone gets to sleep on a bed. The rest of you will sleep on the floor.”

Blade dangles the phone over the edge with a grin.

“Annnnd…. Go!”

He drops the phone. It plummets down, and the Men in Black begin to push and shove frantically for position. Several hands reach out in an attempt to catch the phone, but it’s fumbled, and it hits the tarmac.

A vicious brawl breaks out among the men as they scrap for the phone. Blade watches for a moment and breathes a contented sigh. He turns away from the edge of the roof and heads towards the stairwell.
 
We’re in an old 80s TV studio, with lots of old WZCW logos and a makeshift wall, we pan along the wall and see that there are 30 green glass bottles along the top, each one slightly different from the previous. As we pan, we can hear a voice.

Daddy Mack: 30 green bottles, yeah, sitting on a wall. 30 bottles, yeah, but if one bottle was to accidentally fall…

The camera has panned to Daddy Mack, who is standing next to the wall, he knocks one of the bottles off and it smashes.

Daddy Mack: 30 green bottles, yeah, each a little different from the last. Just like the 30 people that’ll be aiming for the biggest prize of all this weekend. Some won’t put up much resistance, like we’ve seen from Corvus last week. He’s like that first bottle, sunk without a trace and we have 29 green bottles standing on the wall.

Mack picks up two bottles in either hand.

Daddy Mack: This one is sweet inside and well presented on the outside, just like Lexi Hayes. Whereas this one is all kind of mixed up on the label, and inside is an even bigger mess, like the mind of Diabolos. And while they may be different, yeah, they are powerless against the Mack attack.

Mack squeezes both bottles hard in either hand, the veins on his pythons bulging showing his effort. Eventually the bottles crush in is hand and he drops the remnants, before picking up another bottle.

Daddy Mack: And then there’ll be 27 green bottles standing on the wall, but I can see that the contents of this one is refined, well versed and the bottle uses a lot of big old words, yeah. A bit like Mr. Butty, yeah. But Butty, I got news for ya. You can’t teach an old dog like Daddy Mack new tricks, no sir ee, and the only one who’s gonna be schooled is you. Old schooled. And there’ll be 26 green bottles, standing on the wall.

Mack throws the bottle to the floor, where it smashes and picks up another. He takes a sip.

Daddy Mack: Ahh… Coke Classic. You see, I’m old enough to remember when they got rid of this and brought us New Coke. It was awful. But what people don’t know is actually this Classic Coke ain’t the same as the old Coke. It uses corn syrup not sugar. It’s basically the same, but it’s lacking that edge which made it the undisputed in the world. I see a lot of that in Ty Burna these days. He’s still formidable, like this drink, but he’s not the same as he once was, and that’s a little sad in my mind, and why going from the start, he’s gonna lose his bottle like he did against Beard, yeah, and there’ll be 25 green bottles standing on the wall.

Mack drops the bottle to the floor, where it breaks into pieces. He picks another bottle off the shelf, this one doesn’t have a lid or cap.

Daddy Mack: You see this bottle used to contain a lot of energy, high in fizziness and full of flavour, just like El Khalifa Dragon. But like the dragon, this bottle has had it’s block knocked off too often in recent times, and what’s left behind is just a little bit flat..

Mack turns the bottle upside down and pours its lackluster contents to the ground, before dropping the bottle.

Daddy Mack: And then there’ll be 24 green bottles standing on the wall.

The camera pans so we are an at an angle where the bottles line up behind each other. Mack stays at the end furthest away.

Daddy Mack: From your angle, you can’t see bottle number 24. Just like the way Overlast’s return has gone almost unnoticed, yeah, so will his participation and elimination from this match. Blink, and you may miss it, and there’ll be 23 green bottles standing on the wall.

Mack prods the bottle over, but the camera switches angle as it falls so you don’t see it go, just hear it as it smashes, Mack picks up a bottle that is labeled WATER.

Daddy Mack: See this bottle is labeled water, but what’s inside is much sharper, is much more sour, it’s actually lemon juice. In the same way that Mick’s old buddy Blade pulled the wool over his eyes, so too this bottle is trying to do it to me. But I’ve been around long enough to know that if something walks like a duck and talks like a duck then you only know it’s a duck when you’re eating it Peking style, yeah. Blade is like this bottle, deceptive and bitter, but I will vanquish him and there’ll be 22 green bottles standing on the wall.

Mack drops the bottle and picks up three more.

Daddy Mack: You see, this one is obviously milk. It used to be good, but it’s recently gone very, very bad and started to decline in quality, just like Amber Warren. And this one here, is a very ornate bottle with very intelligent packaging, but you taste what it has to offer and you realize that all this is is water. It has no new flavour with which to anoint ourselves. Like Dr. Zeus, it seems to offer so much, but really, it’s just the same old ideas we’ve seen before. And lastly we have this bottle which is nothing but a poor imitation of the previous one, just like Fallout offers nothing but just follows. The pale riders are bottles of pale yellow liquid by the roadside, yeah, and they to will find themselves broken, and there’ll be 19 green bottles standing on the wall.

Mack drops the three bottles with increasing menace and velocity, before picking up another bottle and taking a sip, then a gulp.

Daddy Mack: Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm. This is most marvelous, but now it is finished, so the bottle has served its purpose. M, your bottle too will fall, as it did last week, and there’ll be 18 green bottles left standing on the wall.

Mack drops the empty bottle which then smashes. He picks another two and drops them, but they do not break, so he picks them up again.

Daddy Mack: See, these bottles outwardly look very strong and they did not break. But their strength is exaggerated, much like the male heads of Cerberus. But you see, they will always have a weakness, and a guy like Mack will always find it, yeah..

Mack moves his hand round the bottles until he finds a weakspot, and is then able to break the bottles easily.

Daddy Mack: And there’ll be 17 green bottles left standing on the wall.

Mack picks up another bottle.

Daddy Mack: This bottle is the most ornate and well decorated glass bottle I’ve ever seen or held. But inside it is completely devoid of everything and completely lacking in substance. Just like Eve Taylor, and without her meathead buddies, this bottle won’t be long for this world. And there’ll be 16 green bottles standing on the wall.

Mack smashes the bottle against the wall and in so doing knocks two of the bottles on there so they start to rock.

Daddy Mack: And just like that bottle made these two wobble, our tag champs are going to be weakened by Cerberus, and if that happens, then they are going to be a little easier to knock out of the match, and there’ll be 14 green bottles left standing on the wall.

The rocking bottles are given the slightest of touches by Mack, which causes them to fall to the ground. He then picks up the next bottle which is labeled ‘Sake’

Daddy Mack: You see, I’ve wrestled the world over, yeah, but I still don’t know much about Japan and their crazy rice wine. So I bought a bottle last week, and it went down well. The bottle was difficult to dispose of though. However, that experience then will serve me well now, just as my win against Ohzora last week will also serve me well now and allow me to become one of the lucky 13 green bottles standing on the wall.
He drops the sake to the ground.

Daddy Mack: Speaking of luck, we have another guy who relies on the roll of a dice to see how things will pan out. Well listen here Daggershield, it doesn’t matter if you roll snake eyes, roll a double six or even roll a straight up 20 three times in a row, either way, your going to be rolling over, and there’ll be 12 green bottles sitting on our wall.


He knocks a bottle so it falls, then rolls off a wall, before he picks up two more bottles.

Daddy Mack: Now you see, these two bottles have something in common. Neither of them have the real contents on the label, but for different reasons. You see this label, with it’s cute backwards letters and bubble writing, yeah. The reason it doesn’t list the contents of the bottle is because the manufacturer has completely lost the plot of what’s left in it, like Aubrey. The other label says it’s one thing, something pure, like a quality beer, but in reality it is just dirty cider. That is like the deceptive Frank Mortlock, but the jig is finally up and in amongst the confusion, these two bottles will fall and there’ll be 10 green bottles standing on the wall.

He drops both bottles then picks up three expensive looking ones.

Daddy Mack: These are the finest tasting sparkling wines money can by, the elite if you will. However, which one is the true Champagne? Which one is the cheaper Cava and which is the zesty Prosecco. To look at them, you can’t tell, yeah, you need to crack them open. But then they won’t make it easy, because they all wanna be the top drawer and couldn’t bear it to be one of the others. No matter how similar, you should never mix drinks and putting these three in the same place is a recipe for disaster, and there’ll be 7 green bottles standing on the wall.

He pops the corks on the three bottles and then allows them to fizz over before clanking the bottles together causing them to all break simultaneously. He then picks up two more bottles.

Daddy Mack: The elite are not the only guys who will try to club together, lots of strange combinations will emerge. The bottle in my right hand is full of Tabasco sauce. It’s got a fiery latin kick just like our champ Tastic, yeah. But then this bottle has the fun time chocolate milk inside, just like his pal Mikey Stormrage. Individually, they’re great, but when you try and mix them together…

He mixes the two liquids together, and they congeal into a sticky mess in one of the bottles, he throws the other bottle to the floor where it smashes.

Daddy Mack: … it will turn messy. The Tabasco will lose its kick and the chocolate milk will lose its fun, and the whole thing will be a big mess. See, I’ve been around the block and I stand back to back with nobody but the Mack Pack, because otherwise sooner rather than later you’ll find yourself standing back to knife and there’ll be 5 green bottles left sitting on the wall.

He drops the bottle containing the mixture, and then picks one bottle off the wall.

Daddy Mack: Those last four bottles on the wall are the mystery bottles. We don’t know what’s in them, so how do we make sure our bottle lasts the longest? Well let me tell you, Mack Pack, yeah. This here contains Daddy Mack’s rocket fuel, and as I drink it I can feel the Mack pulsating through my veins.

He necks the bottle and is suddenly pumped up to the max, with his muscles glowing and his veins showing. He sprints at the wall and crashes through it, causing the rudimentary wall to fall over and the four remaining bottles to go with it and smash. Mack is now super intensely looking at the camera and holding the one remaining bottle up.

Daddy Mack: COME THE LETHAL LOTTERY, THERRE’LL BE ONE GREEN BOTTLE, BUT NO STINKING WALL!

HOW YOU GONNA FIGHT BACK, WHEN THE MACK PACK IS ON THE ATTACK?!?
 
"What are you going to do first when you finally get out of this hell hole?"

"Call Grandpa, then prep for my match against Showtime. You?"

Matt and I had been talking for some time, our voices penetrating the darkness and echoing off the high walls of the prison ceiling.

"I've been on the inside for too long. I'm afraid I won't be able to function on the outside anymore."

Though I couldn't see him in the pitch black room, I could feel Matt sit up in his cot.

"We have been in here for like two days! We get out anytime, we are just waiting on that fat ass guard to get back from lunch."

Before I could respond, the door to our cell opened, blinding both Matt and I with light. The overweight guard, who had food stains on his uniform, spoke Spanish to us in a thick Mexican accent.

"What's he saying?"

Matt listened to the guard, nodding his head from time to time to acknowledge that he was listening.

"He says we have to pay the fine and we are free to go. I'll handle this, but you owe me."

"Like hell I do! You owe me, I gave you your title."

After Matt paid the obese guard, we stepped out into the hot, scorching Mexican air.

"Gah! Its so hot out here! Must be the lack of freedom in the air."

Matt shook his head and the two of us walked to his car, which was parked across the street. He immediately noticed the large parking ticket placed on his windshield.

"Great, a parking ticket. This is your fault."

"Dude just throw it away and pretend you never got it. That’s what I do with my STD tests."

Matt shook his head as he snatched the ticket off his windshield and we climbed into his car.

"Thanks for driving me to the airport man. James asked me to be his best man, and it means a lot to me. I'd hate to miss out because you freaked out and tipped off the border patrol that we had fireworks in the trunk."

"You really are something else."

"One of a kind sir."

Matt and I shared a laugh as I hit the radio and we drove to the airport, singing along.

[YOUTUBE]Coy8Hoa1DNw[/YOUTUBE]​

After my flight landed, I had a slight issue with customs due to my new criminal record, I put my headphones in and was on my way to my rental car when I heard a fan from behind me asking for my autograph. I thought about ignoring him, but as I turned a corner I saw that the man was disabled, and my heart sank. I stopped and posed for a picture.

10269390_622290804521066_6783410291442972100_n.jpg

"Send that to me when you get a chance, I want a copy of it."

I smiled and shook the mans hand before I made my way to my rental and drove to James Howard's wedding. My mind was full of thoughts, both wrestling related and otherwise as I drove. I was closer to a world title than I had ever been, yet no one looked at me as a threat. I'd beaten James twice, and had wins over former World Champions Showtime and Barbosa in recent months, as well as wins over former contenders like S.H.I.T. and Dr. Zeus. Hell I had an undefeated record against The Beard, the man who walked out as champion. Yet my name wasn't on the tip of any tongues. As I reached over to grab a bite of a Cinnabon that I picked up at the airport, it hit me that I had another advantage. I was the heaviest man in the match. Getting me over the top rope would be no easy feat. On top of that I had been bulking up, eating as much Taco Bell as humanly possible on the Latin American tour. As I pulled into the driveway of James' home, the memories of the life I used to live flooded me. Tag team victories, late night strategy sessions turning into gaming marathons, drunken boxing in the basement. It was a part of my life that I would never forget.

I hadn't even put my car in park when Oliver came running outside in his little tuxedo, his dad not far behind. I got out and scooped Oliver up, holding him upside down, he was happy to see me.

"Uncle Mikey!"

I ruffled his hair before I put him back on the ground and giving him a high five.

"Hey little buddy, how are you?"

"Hyper as hell man. He won't calm down."

"His parents are getting married, I'm excited too man."

James looked at me uneasily. I could tell he had bad news.

"I don't want to be the one to tell you this, but its best you find out now."

"What?"

James let out a long sigh before he spoke.

"Your ex girlfriend is here."

I was stunned, unable to speak for a moment. Finally I was able to sloppily spit out a few words.

"You mean R-R-"

James didn't need to hear the rest, he shook his head. I could feel my heart sink deep down into the pit of my stomach. I hadn't seen Rose in close to two years. One night she and I were together and happy, the next morning she was gone. She had ran off in the middle of the night, leaving only a dear John letter in her wake.

"Should I...should I say something?"

The look on his face told me all I needed to know. While painful, I needed to get it out of the way as soon as possible to cut down on the awkwardness that would likely occur. I could only assume she came as a friend of Dinah's. While I wasn't happy with it, I could hold no ill will over her inviting someone who had practically been her sister when James and I were teaming together.

"For the record I'm not happy."

James simply nodded, acknowledging and even accepting my anger. I told him to give me time to change into my tuxedo and that I would say hello to her when we got to Catalina Island.

The drive and subsequent ferry ride to the island was uneventful. I spent most of the time play fighting with Oliver, while James did his best to use facial expression and hushed whispers to convey the faux pas his soon to be wife committed.

Once we arrived I spent a few minutes with James catching up while Dinah went to change into her dress and hide away until the ceremony.

"You have really been moving up in the world. Beating Showtime, teaming with Ty Burna, pissing off Ricky Runn. You've come a long way from goofy sidekick."

"I guess I have gotten better, but I still feel like people overlook me."

"I see you moved to replace me pretty quickly after I quit on you."

James was joking, though his choice of words could have been better given the current circumstances. I did my best to let it slide.

"Matt is a great guy, really glad I helped him see the light side of the Force, but no one could ever replace you in my heart."

James and I smiled and shared a laugh as I grabbed him in a headlock and the two of us wrestled around, feeling nostalgic, drawing the ire of some of the nearby guests. It was at that point that one of the guests approached us and began to speak to me.

"Hey Mikey, its been a while."

Rose was as beautiful as ever, I had definitely landed a girl way out of my league when she fell for me.

"I'm just going to excuse myself."

I gave James a pat on the back as he walked past.

"Yeah it has been a while."

"I hear you are doing good."

"That's a subjective term."

"Okay, look I'm sorry. What do you want me to say? Nice to see you, I missed you?"

I was kicking at a rock on the ground as she spoke.

"An apology would be nice, but maybe that is just me being a decent human human being."

She threw her hands in the air, her voice conveying her anger.

"You smothered me! Maybe the way I handled things wasn't the best, but I felt like a weight was lifted when I left you. I was free."

My voice got louder, it began showing my own anger.

"I mean, I know I'm not perfect, but was I so goddamn bad that you handled the break up the way you did. You didn't even have the decency to do it face to face."

Her voice lowered when she next spoke.

"I didn't want to hurt you, but I think it was clear I just wasn't that into the relationship."

I kicked the rock I had been playing with as hard as I could.

"You didn't want to hurt me! Oh why thank you! You always were beautiful, just not on the inside. My heart was on the floor and you stepped right on it."

My words seemed to cut deeply, causing her to become angry again.

"Life with you wasn't always easy. It got hard to keep taking care of you when you quit taking care of yourself. I tried to get you out of the house, I tried to get you off your little island you loved so much in front of your TV, but you didn't want to see the light of day. God, there was one week you didn't put on pants once, you just walked around in your boxers.

"You know if they would have been name brand boxers it would have been okay, but because they were Costco brand it was the worst thing in the world."

"That has nothing to do with it, that's what you don't get."

"I'm sorry that I didn't end up being who we thought I was gonna be, you know. I tried really hard. I promise you that. I just didn't have it in me. I think if you had just, maybe tried harder."

"I tried. You have no idea how hard I tried, Michael. I talked to a therapist. I talked to my mother, my friends. I read every book possible. I took love seminars. I took sex seminars. None of it worked. None of it made a difference to you. I couldn't drown with you any more. Don't you dare sit there and tell me that I didn't try. I did. You were just too stupid to notice."

With that she walked away, leaving me alone again, though this time I felt like I deserved it.

The ceremony went off without a hitch, save a small incident where Oliver dropped the pillow on which the rings sat. He was the spitting image of his father, and I couldn't wait to see the man he would grow up to be with wonderful parents like James and Dinah. I stood just a few feet from James, smiling the entire time, though my mind was miles away the entire ceremony.

"You may know kiss the bride."

I snapped out of my day dream for only a few moments until the time came to give my best man speech. I took a deep breath to calm my nerves before I went up in front of everyone. For someone who performed in a ring in front of tens of thousands of people for a living, I had butterflies.

"First of all I want to say congratulations to James and Dinah. The two of you treated me better than I could have ever hoped for, better than I deserve, and I'm beyond happy to see the two of you finally tie the knot. When James asked me to be his best man, I was thrilled. I have to admit I was a little surprised since I'm one of about six people here tonight who have good teeth."

The crowd laughed with me as I smiled wide to display my teeth.

"You Brits and your bad teeth. But seriously, James has been like a brother to me over the past few years. He has experienced ups and downs with me, and to be completely honest he saved me from myself more than I would like to admit. Your kindness is likely what has kept me going."

The crowd let out an awww as I took a moment to clear the lump in my throat.

"Back when James was thinking of proposing he told me he was afraid of what people might think. He and Dinah being almost thirty, having a child, and just now getting married. I told him, I said 'James, who cares if it doesn't look like what other people think it should look like. So long as your family is happy, then fuck 'em.' I also told him I wouldn't swear when I gave this speech, but as I've learned recently, I'm not the saint I thought I was so he will just have to forgive me, or I've got a Game Over waiting on him."

The crowd again chuckled as James and I gestured in faux anger at each other. I then caught eyes with Rose and abandoned the rest of my speech, instead deciding to wing it.

"Chances are most of us have been there. Two people in love. You make a lot of promises. Tell each other you're different from the rest, the exception. For a month or two the long meandering conversations feel foreign, a chance to get to know one another on a more intimate level. Then slowly, so slowly you might not even notice conversations are replaced by missed calls and resentful voice mails. Then finally the day comes where you two admit you aren't the exception. You learn love is not just a verb. That this world is bipolar, beautiful for some, for others the fucking saddest."

I paused as the crowd waiting, some wondering where I was going. I took a deep breath and decided to stop making this about myself.

"James and Dinah, make it beautiful. Be excellent to each other."

The crowd clapped and I went and shared a big hug with both James and Dinah, before I again scooped up Oliver and hung him upside down by his feet. I whispered in James ear that I had to leave early, and I think he understood that I wasn't in the correct mindset to be there.

Before I left, I tracked down Rose. I took her hand in mine and held it one last time.

"I just wanted to see if they still fit."
 
A crystal clear glass of bubbly champagne rest securely inside the leather confines of a cup holder. A hand reaches out and grabs the stem of the glass with its fingers, rubbing the sides of it. On the finger of the hand is a huge diamond encrusted ring that sparkles as it moves around the glass. The hand grips tightly and lifts the glass from its holder and brings the liquid to the mouth. A long sip is taken which is followed by a refreshing gasp of air. His other hand goes to wipe off a bit of liquid hanging onto his facial stubble and the camera pans out to reveal Showtime David Cougar sitting comfortably in a leather seat. He is inside a limousine accompanied by the rest of The Elite, Steven Holmes and John Constantine, as the three make their way to the site of Lethal Lottery. Constantine and Holmes are currently engaged in a quiet conversation as Showtime admires the ring that is resting on his finger. John looks up at Showtime and remarks.

Constantine: I never see you wear that ring on any other day of the year. The one day you do put it on, you treat it like it's your precious.

Showtime: When you guys win your own Lethal Lottery ring, you can decide when and how to wear it however you'd like. Until then, let this be our motivation. Sparkle, sparkle.

Holmes: We won't be needing any extra motivation. The prize of winning the WZCW Title is more than enough motivation for myself and John.

Constantine: The Elite are the dominant group heading into the Lottery match. The Pale Riders are limping right now. Dr. Zeus has cooled off the last several weeks. Fallout is a shell of what he was when he was Elite-X champion. The Beard won't be in the match and lord knows where Amber Warren is right now. The tag team titles will be defended. Everyone else is working against each other and we three will remain strong.

Showtime: Providing that we aren't given more than we can handle in our own individual matches. Most of the wrestlers in the Lottery match don't have to compete before hand and the fact that two our of the three of us do will wear at our stamina.

Constantine: That is true Show, but I'm not concerned at all about that challenges I face against a make believe warrior. You however, are the one who seems to be having difficulty with the Mexi-fools.

Showtime: It sounds like you both have everything covered, but don't worry about me. My mind is focused on the task at hand. Their Spanish asses are going to be saying Si-a-nara if you know what I mean.

The three men share a laugh as the limo pulls up outside the arena where Lethal Lottery is being held. The Elite climb out of the vehicle and stare at the building before them. It is a gusty day outside and the wind whips around them, tousling their hair and making their attire appear bigger than they really are. The driver gathers their luggage and the three giants of WZCW make their way inside the building, each removing their shades as they enter.

Constantine: We should check in with Bateman and get out entry positions for the match.

Holmes: Always in such a hurry John. We're not on some tight schedule here. I was hoping to drop my bags off in the locker room and listen to some classic Mozart while I stretch.

- If you want The Elite to get their Lethal Lottery numbers, go to Spoiler 2

-If you want The Elite to go to their locker room first, go to Spoiler 8


1
Showtime heads over to the locker room and slowly opens the door to peek inside. There is no sound coming from the room and as Showtime opens the door more we see that the room is empty. Showtime closes the door behind him and quickly checks the first bag within reach. Empty. He checks the next bag and it's filled with an assortment of unmarked pill bottles. The third bag he grabs has pictures of children inside.

Showtime: Nothing. No Lottery numbers anywhere. I wish I had some sort of leverage over someone. That would make this a lot easier.

Showtime tosses the bag to the side and searches through one more. He reaches in and pulls out a 12 inch *****. Showtime is startled at first by the size and then starts trying to find out who's bag this is. He pulls out the persons ID and slyly smiles in anticipation over which female WZCW star owns this massive thing.

Showtime: Oh Diablos.

The look of disappointment on Showtime's face is obvious as goes to put the ***** away? Suddenly he hears two people talking in front of the locker room door and drops the bag. Showtime looks around the room trying to hastily make up his mind over what to do while still holding the *****.

-If you want Showtime to run out the back door and into the hall go to Spoiler 5
-If you want Showtime to hide in the bathroom so to Spoiler 3

2
Showtime: I agree with Constantine. It's on the way to our locker room, plus it'll give us a chance to plan out our attack better.

Constantine: Now you're on the same page as us.

The three men take a left towards the head offices as their driver continues forward with their luggage. They walk down a long hallway that has portraits hanging with every confirmed entrant in the Lottery match. Showtime stops in front of his portrait and mistakes it for a mirror as he adjusts his hair before flashing an identical smile on the picture. They get to a door marked Lethal Lottery entry and Constantine opens the door for his partners. Bateman is seated behind a desk with a young intern and greets his guests.

Bateman: Good morning gentleman. I'm so happy you got here first, come please, pull out your winning numbers.

Showtime rolls up his sleeves and reaches out to grab a number, but stops short. He pulls his hand out of the bucket and lets Constantine and Holmes pick first. Constantine smiles upon grabbing his number and shakes Bateman's hand. Holmes reaches in after and repeats the same actions as Constantine. Showtime reaches into the bucket and pulls out a number that is met with a frown instead of a smile. He leans forward towards Bateman.

Showtime: This isn't the right number.

Bateman: I have them set up inside the bucket. Grab another one quickly.
Before Showtime can reach back in, the door behind them opens and Kenneth Banks walks into the room.

Banks: Gentleman, I'm thrilled to see you all here so early. Tell me, what are the odds our future WZCW champion is standing in this room right now?

Constantine greets him first with a firm handshake.

Constantine: I would say that they are almost a sure thing, sir.

Constantine laughs and Banks smiles approvingly. Holmes greets him next with a handshake and some polite pleasantries. The attention of the room then shifts to Showtime still standing by the Lethal Lottery bucket. Banks approaches him almost cautiously and shakes his hand.

Banks: It's good to see you here Showtime. I'm hoping that we get to see the Showtime of 2013 and not the Showtime of 2014.

Showtime tightens his grip on the handshake and looks back at Banks.

Showtime: I promise you'll get to see the Showtime of 2011 out there tonight when I win.

Banks: Splendid, hopefully that's without the whole schizophrenic angle.

Showtime smirks and the two exchange darted glances. Banks moves his hand to the side directing The Elite to leave the room as other people are waiting outside. Showtime is the last to leave the room, but before he does Banks addresses him.

Banks: Showtime, one more thing we're going to need to discuss. Your contract is set to expire in the next few months and while you know I would love to resign you, given your performances these past few months it won't be for quite as much money as you're making on this one. You understand of course, it's not personal it's just good business.

Showtime nods his head and then closes the door. Outside in the hallway, Constantine and Holmes can barely contain their excitement over their numbers.

Constantine: I got 23! I'm liking my chances at winning.

Holmes: 23 is good, but it's not nearly as good as my 26. In my last Lottery match I lasted longer then anyone else in history. Now I'll get to sit back and watch everyone beat themselves down before I scoop up the win. What number did you get David?

Showtime: I got 2. This is the worst possible number ever.

Constantine: It's no worse than getting number 1.

Showtime: No it's a lot worse. It's like doing all the work for almost none of the glory. Nobody remembers the second guy, but everyone knows that Neil Armstrong stepped on the moon first. I'm not going to be like Buzz Aldrin and dance my way to the stars. I'm going to go find some poor sap who will switch numbers.

Holmes: Good luck with that. I'm going to retire to opt he locker room now.

Constantine and Holmes nod their heads and leave as Showtime ponders his next move.

-If you want Showtime to look for wrestlers down the hallway go to Spoiler 11
-If you want Showtime to look for wrestlers near ringside go to Spoiler 12

3
Showtime runs into the bathroom and hides in the closest stall. He looks from underneath the door and sees the unmistakable costume of Haven with his partner Hyada.

Haven: I cannot believe my good luck. Imagine drawing number 29 in your first Lethal Lottery match. Either that or somebody must've rigged it.

Showtime lets out an angered groan and tightens his grip on the *****.

Hyada: I'm very happy for you. I wish I could say that your good fortune was blessed onto me as well, but unfortunately it was not meant to be. I drew number 5.

Haven: That's really unfortunate. I was hoping that we'd enter around the same time and clean house together.

Hyada: I as well, but unless I am able to survive over 30 minutes out there, we will not be there for each other.

Showtime ponders what he has heard when he finally realizes he's still holding onto the *****. He throws the object into the toilet and listens.

Haven: Here, you take the number. I want you to make it to the finals and win.

Hyada: No my friend, I cannot take that opportunity away from you.

Haven: Well here, give me your number and we'll redraw them and see who gets it.

Showtime here's this and immediately goes into action. He flushes the toilet and quickly exits the bathroom. The toilet gets clogged, but Showtime is oblivious to it as he makes his presence known to both men.

Showtime: Gentleman, I couldn't help but over hear your predicament. Perhaps I can help.

Hyada: What can you do?

Showtime: Well it just so happens that I am the owner of a very low entry number. I would be happy to exchange it with you Haven so you can compete with your partner.

Hyada: Don't do it Haven. You have real chance to win and you shouldn't give that up.

Haven thinks about the proposition long and hard. To the surprise of his partner he hands Showtime his number. Showtime flips his to Haven and smiles.

Showtime: Pleasure doing business with you.

Showtime tosses the ball up and catches it as he exits the room.

Hyada: Why would you do that man. Don't you care at all about winning the WZCW title?

Haven: Of course I do, but not as much as I want you to succeed and be successful in WZCW and in life. And if that means starting that match and making sure the both of us get to the final, then that's what I'm going to do.

Hyada: That's incredibly Nobel of you. Thank you.

Haven: Your welcome.

The two share a long stare at each other.

Haven: I'm wet.

Hyada: I feel wet too.

They look down at the floor and see water has flooded everywhere and they both look around trying to find the source.

-Continue to Spoiler 6

4
Showtime heads down a hallway and slows his pace down as he sees somebody ahead. The camera stays on Showtime as he walks slowly past Amber Warren leaned against the wall. Not far beside her we see Fallout also leaned up against the wall. Showtime continues to walk by them without acknowledgement when he reaches Rd. Zeus. The stops for only a second while Zeus simply smiles at him. Showtime continues on his way and that is when Zeus, Fallout, and Amber all step away from the wall and slowly follow Showtime. He turns around to see them behind him and when he turns back he bumps into the hairy chest of The Beard. Showtime is surrounded by the Pale Riders and looks a little uneasy as Zeus stands right behind him.

Zeus: You think that we won't be in full force here tonight. We are always waiting, ready, tonight, Meltdown, Kingdom Come. Every night. Don't worry, we won't.

The Beard steps to the side allowing Showtime to continue by. Showtime steps slowly around him and continues without looking back. Before he gets out of sight Zeus calls to him.

Zeus: Good luck tonight. Who knows, maybe we'll meet up at Kingdom Come.

Zeus and the rest of his group smile and laugh as Showtime rounds the corner and is out of sight.

-If you have a Lottery number go to Spoiler 1
-If you don't have a Lottery number go to Spoiler 13

5
Showtime rushes quickly out of room and in his haste crashes right into Mick Overlast. The two hit the floor and everything that they were carrying falls down with them. Showtime reaches out and grabs a Lottery ball showing number 17. He quickly shoves it in his pocket as Overlast gets to his feet.

Showtime: Hey man are you alright?

Overlast: Yea I'm alright. Shit, I don't have my Lottery ball.

Showtime: Here it is.

Showtime reaches down and picks up his old Lottery ball. He hands over the number to Overlast who appears unsure given Showtimes history.

Showtime: Don't worry I picked mine up early and left it in the locker room.

Overlast: Yea I just picked mine up. Haven't even looked at it yet. Was going to wait till the show started, but I guess...

Overlast looks down at his number and is not thrilled by his number.

Overlast: Well it is what it is I guess. Just have to go out and make it happen.

Showtime: That's the spirit. Well I gotta go. Good luck.

Showtime leaves in a hurray as Overlast goes to pick up the rest of his things.

Overlast: Hey thanks, good luck to you. Hey you forgot your...

Overlast sees what Showtime has left behind and is left speechless.

Go to Spoiler 14

6
Showtime opens the door and steps out into the hallway. He smiles like a cat who ate the canary and got away with it. He turns to walk away when he hears a familiar voice.

Burna: Looks to me like somebody got themselves a good number.

Showtime stops and turns back to face his long time rival.

Showtime: Maybe I do, maybe I don't. What I do know is that I won't have to be the first one out there to start the match.

Burna: Well you know sometimes you control the Ouija and sometimes the Ouija tells you what is. I can't control the set up, but I can certainly affect the outcome. Don't you forget that I've done this before.

Showtime: Yes you have, and I did also if you recall, but the big difference is this year you don't have a team of henchmen to help make sure you are victorious. You're up against 29 other men, and you can be sure everyone of them is gunning for the favourite in the match. Nobody wanted you back Ty and everybody is going to make sure you don't main event another Kingdom Come. You'll be lucky to make it to when I enter the match.

Burna nods his head and casually approaches Showtime, going face to face with him.

Burna: That may be true, but you know what else is also true. After I beat you at Meltdown Madness, I had four wrestlers come down and beat the crap out of me so badly they figured they'd left me for dead. I looked like a dead man inside that ring that night. I'm sure now they wish they did finish the job because rather than lie down and accept it, I got up and have been extracting my revenge on them one at a time. Sooner or later they will all feel what they did to me. There is no stopping me. And after I finish all three of them off in the Lottery match, I have no issue at all taking my fight to you and your Elite buddies and showing you three who really is the best in WZCW. So it is written. So it shall come.

Both me continue to stare at each other, neither man blinking or flinching. Showtime and Ty both nod their heads and Showtime flips his Lottery ball and catches it.

Showtime: I guess I'll see you in the ring when we meet again.

Burna: I wouldn't have it any other way between us.

Showtime takes his cue to leave and Ty Burna as well turns around and leaves.

Go to Spoiler 14

7
Showtime wanders upstairs to the box office suites and hears a loud party going on already.

Showtime: Alright, I'll be able to pick up another drink.

Showtime finds the door where the noise is coming from and opens the door. Inside all he sees are men and women dressed up as Saboteur and Saxton. They all stop what they're doing and stare at Showtime.

Saxton 1: Sorry the The Elite party is several doors down.

Showtime: I'm actually not apart of the The Elite party. I'm just looking for someone...

Saboteur 1: Wait are you? Oh my god oh my god OH MY GOD! It's him, he's the real deal. It's Showtime!

Everyone in the room cheers and shouts. Before Showtime can even think about leaving, they surround him and lead him into the room.

Saxton 2: We've never had any wrestlers since Kingdom Come 4 come by and pay us a visit. Can I get you a drink?

Showtime: Absolutely you can.

Saxton 2 cracks open a beer with his bicep and hands it to Showtime who was hoping for something a little more high end but nonetheless takes a long sip of his drink. He is seated beside three female Saboteur's.

Showtime: So you guys have been doing this for every PPV since Kingdom Come 4?

Saboteur 2: Yes we have. We had so much fun the first time when the real Saxton and Saboteur came and started their fight in our box suite.

Saboteur 3: Even though Saxton and Saboteur are no longer in WZCW we still dress up as them because we all love them and hope that they return one day. WZCW is just not the same without them.

Showtime: So who do you guys predict will win the match.

Saxton 1: Blade.

The whole room bursts out laughing and Showtime joins in on the laughter. He downs the rest of his beer and stands up.

Showtime: Well thank you everyone for the drink and your kind hospitality, but I have to get a move on it.

Saboteur 1: But you can't leave yet. You haven't played slip n slide with the blow up doll.

Showtime looks over the couch and sees a slip n slide set up. One of the Saxtons is using it know and his rides that blowup doll across the strip.

Saxton 2: You have to try it.

Showtime thinks about the idea and he smiles.

Showtime: He'll yea why not.

He picks up the blow up doll and takes it over the front of the slip n slide. Showtime straddles over top of the doll and looks over the best way to ride her. He steps back and then performs a running slide, landing perfectly on top of her and causing a light spin. He falls off as he reaches the end and laughs historically.

Saxton and Saboteur: Showtime! Showtime! Showtime!

Showtime: I miss hearing those chants.

Saxton 1 helps Showtime to his feet and he thanks him for it. He stands there still holding the blow up doll and looks around at the sea of Saxton's and Saboteur's.

Showtime: Well that was fun playing the good guy again, but I got to go back to being bad.

Saxton and Saboteur: Awwwww

Showtime: I know, but don't worry. I promise you'll get a good show.

Saxton and Saboteur: Yaaaaa

-If you have a number go to Spoiler 5
-If you don't have a number go to Spoiler 13

8
Showtime: I agree with Holmes. No need to rush ourselves, we got all day to draw our numbers and get ready. Besides, I could go for another drink right about now.

The three men walk keep going straight down the hallway until they reach theri own personal locker room. The driver opens the door for them and then goes about bringing in the rest of their luggage. Holmes sits himself down on the leather couch and slips off his shoes, replacing them with loafers as he turns on his music. Showtime heads straight for the mini bar and promptly pours himself a tall glass of scotch. Constantine takes his Elite X Title belt and heads to the bath area where the shower can be heard turning on.

Showtime: I wonder if he showers with that damn belt on.

Showtime and Holmes share a laugh as Showtime holds a second glass of scotch for Holmes. The two clink glasses and take a sip before Showtime begins to settle in.

Holmes: David my dear old rival, tell me how are you're feeling about having to compete tonight against Tastic before competing in the Lethal Lottery match?

Showtime: I'm feeling pretty good about it. Went down south to Puerto Rico a few weeks back, sort of a vacation if you will. I was reminded how beneath me Matt Tastic is and I think I will have no trouble defeating him tonight and then competing in the Lottery match.

Holmes: That's capital to hear, but, and this is mostly John, but we're both a little bit concerned about your health and stamina. What I'm proposing is, I would be willing to replace you in the match so you can focus your sole attention on the real prize here, The Elite winning the Lethal Lottery.

Showtime takes a sip of his whisky before he responds.

Showtime: I appreciate the concern you both have for me, but I'm the one who tried to persuade Tastic into joining The Elite, so I feel that I should be the one to make him pay for his refusal.

Holmes nods his head as Showtime takes another sip of his whisky. The running water has ended and Constantine soon exits the bath area, towel wrapped around his waist. He opens a bottle of water and takes a sip when the door knocks.

Constantine: Come in.

The door handle turns and the team of Ramparte and Mussel enter the room.

Mussel: Hello gentleman, eh....

Mussel and Ramparte notice Constantine standing next to the door with nothing but a towel on. John shakes his head and steps back in the bath area to finish changing.

Showtime: Don't worry, it's a pants on party here. How can we help you guys.

Ramparte: We wanted to extend the olive branch and suggest that we form a coalition tonight, to guarantee that we all make it to the finals.

Mussel: We could call ourselves The Elite Cerberus!

Ramparte: Or Cerberus The Elite.

Mussel: Oh I like that too.

Showtime Gentleman we appreciate your enthusiasm, we're not looking to form a coalition. We think you're an amazing team and we wish you good luck, but we're not interested.

Mussel and Ramparte try to hide their disappointment, but it clearly shows through as they bicker while leaving. Constantine exits the shower dressed in casual attire.

Constantine: I'm going to go lie down and take a rest.

Holmes: I think that sounds like a good idea.

Showtime Well what am I going to do?

-If you want Showtime to get his Lottery number go to Spoiler 10
-If you want Showtime to have another drink go to Spoiler 9

9
Showtime: I think I'll have another drink.

Blade: Did someone say drink?

Showtime: Blade come on in!

Blade swings the door wide open and strolls right in and sits down in front of Showtime's mini bar.

Constantine: Hey if Blade is drinking, I'm having a drink.

Holmes: I'll have one as well.

Blade: Now we got ourselves a party.

Showtime: Hell yeah.

Showtime hands them each a shot a whiskey and they clink glasses and down the shots.

Constantine: You know WZCW should supple liquor at all the events.

Holmes: A wine fund.

Blade: A beer fund.

Showtime: An alcohol fund.

They all nod as another round of shots is laid out in front of them. One by one they each down the shots.

Blade: You know what, we should form a stable.

Constantine: Three of us are already.

Blade: Yea I know I mean like you guys and me, Ty Burna, bring back guys like Steven Kurtesy and Chris K.O.

Holmes: Now that group would run WZCW.

Constantine: A real power trip.

Showtime: Callahan would probably cry conspiracy over not being included.

All four men share a good laugh and another round of shots.

Blade: I love you guys.

Holmes: We love you too.

Constantine: You're the best!

Showtime: To Blade!

They all cheer and bang their shots on the table before taking them. Showtime leans forward and falls over the bar table.

Showtime wakes up in a stir. He looks around the room and sees Holmes and Constantine asleep. He looks down at his table and sees that he spilt the last of his whiskey.

-If you want Showtime to go seeking more liquor go to Spoiler 7
-If you want Showtime to go egg his Lottery number go to Spoiler 13

10
Showtime exits the locker room and makes his way down to Bateman's office. He walks in to find him and Kenneth Banks waiting for wrestlers to draw numbers.

Banks: Showtime, good to see you still vertical.

Showtime: Kenneth, Bateman, pleasure to be here for the Lethal Lottery. I'm looking forward to winning this historic title match.

Bateman: Step right up Showtime and the winning number could be RIGHT inside.

Showtime nods and smiles as he reaches into the bucket to pull out his number. He looks down and sees that he pulled out number 12.

Banks: Lucky number 12. That's not bad, we've seen a lot of the good numbers go early.

Showtime looks to Bateman who can only shrug and mouth 'sorry'.

Showtime: That's alright Kenneth. I got this victory in the bag.

Banks: That's good to hear.

Showtime goes to leave the room.

Banks: Showtime, one more thing. Your contract is coming to its end soon. Of course we're going to offer you a new contract, but I can't say that you've really lived to your current one. If I don't really stand out and win this match I'm afraid you are going to have to consider a significant pay cut should you decide to resign.

Showtime doesn't respond back, simply nods his head and leaves the room. He decides he needs to try finding a better number to enter the Lottery match with.

-If you want Showtime to look down the hallway go to Spoiler 4
-If you want Showtime to go to the box seats go to Spoiler 7

11
Showtime heads down the hallway and it doesn't take long for him to find somebody. Standing by himself in deep thought is Theron Daggershield. Showtime is a little uneasy going up to ask his partners opponent for his number, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

Showtime: Hey Dagger, how are things going?

Theron looks up at Showtime, himself also a little uncertain about the situation.

Daggershield: The journey is long and the road ahead is filled with many obstacles and challenges, but so far things have been going well for me today.

Showtime: That's good, so have you been to see Bateman yet tonight.

Daggershield: Yes I have, and for my completion of his challenge I obtained a number greater than any roll I could get on my 20 sided die.

Showtime: Really? Well would you be interested in trading numbers?

Daggershield: What number did you win?

Showtime: Oh I wouldn't want to ruin the surprise.

Daggershield: May I assume then that your number is considerably lower than mine and that is why you are seeking a trade.

There is a brief pause between the two as Showtime looks for the right words to retaliate Theron's correct assumption.

Showtime: Look we can do this easy the way or the hard way. I can get you whatever you want. Lord of the Rings swords. D&D cards. Anything. And if you don't want to make the trade, well I can tell you that not only will you not be victorious against Constantine here, myself and Holmes will make sure you won't be able to talk after the match. So, what do you say.

Theron steps forward away from the wall and reaches into his bag. He pulls his hand out and opens it in front of Showtime, revealing two 12 sided dice.

Daggershield: Let us battle to see whether of not I will make this trade with you. One roll each, highest number wins.

Showtime reaches for the red die and shakes it a little but before rolling it down on the floor. He raises his hands in celebration once he sees he rolled an 11.

Showtime: Read'em and weep Dagger. Let's see you beat that.

Theron closes his eyes and holds the blue die close to his chest. He looks down at Showtime's die and reaches down and rolls right beside his. It turns over and comes to a rest showing 12. Theron calmly bends down to retrieve the dice as Showtime is left speechless.

Daggershield: You did well. Hopefully I'll get a chance to face you in the match. Good luck.

Theron grabs his sword leaning against the wall and walks away as Showtime continues down the hall.

-If you want Showtime take a left go to Spoiler 4
-If you want Showtime to take a right go to Spoiler 1

12
Showtime takes a right and goes up some stairs and steps through a curtain. Inside the arena is all set up for tonight show. Showtime gazes around at all the empty seats which made the whole place seem larger than it really was. He looks down towards the ring and sees Mr. Butty and Frank Mortlock deep in conversation. Showtime marches down the isle and stands right up beside them, interrupting their discussion.

Showtime: Gentleman, how are things going? Anything interesting happening in the news of late?

The two continue to look at Showtime, neither with a response to give.

Showtime: Look you both know who I am, but more importantly I know who you are now, and The Elite is always looking for that next wrestler who is ready for the main event. If either of you boys are looking to get ahead in line to join our stable well then today is your lucky day. I'm just asking for one or both of you to do me one small favour. That favour is giving me your balls. Your Lethal Lottery number balls and letting me take the biggest number. Nobody else has to know, and if guys go the extra inch and help The Elite out in the match, there's no telling how far you'll go.

Mr. Butty and Mortlock exchange glances at each other and then look at Showtime.

Mr. Butty: You sir, are a brain dead sicko.

Mortlock: If I had the authority I'd haul your ass to the slammer.

Both men walk away leaving Showtime by himself at ringside. A voice calls to him from high in the stands.

Tastic: Hey Showtime I got a favour that you could do for me, it's called kiss my ass or I'm gonna beat. Your ass with a bottle of Kickassery.

Stormrage: Live Mas!

Showtime: Like hell I'm going to lose Tastic. You and your sorry routine are coming to an end here tonight. And as for you Stormrage..... Eat Mas!

Having nothing more witty to say, Showtime leaves the arena floor for next destination.

-If you want Showtime to go to the box office go to Spoiler 7
-If you want Showtime to go try the locker room now go to Spoiler 1

13
Showtime stumbles to Bateman's door and turns the handle with a small amount of difficulty. Bateman gets up from his sit to greet him.

Bateman: Where the hell have you been.

Showtime: Places... Many different places.

Bateman: Have you been drinking?

Showtime: Is there a moustache in Mexico?

Bateman: Look don't tell anyone you heard it from me, but with your contract coming to its end soon, Mr. Banks has talked about resigning you. He would like to, but he wants you come down significantly from what you currently make. The losses and behaviours such as this and souring his image of you.

Showtime mood changes from one of a happy drunk to a more serious and concerned look. He appears to be in deep thought when he asks Bateman a question.

Showtime: Do you have my number?

Bateman: Yes and I saved you a good one. Number 30. Don't make me regret doing this.

Showtime: When have I ever made you regret anything.

Bateman: I'm not going to answer that.

Showtime: I'm joking. I got this, you're looking at the first double champion in WZCW. You'll see.

Bateman: I hope so.

Showtime shakes his hand and proceeds to head out of the office.

Go to spoiler 6

14
Showtime heads back towards the locker room when he is greeted by a familiar face.

Kensworth: Showtime would I be able to get a .com exclusive before the Lethal Lottery PPV begins.

Showtime: Go right ahead.

Kensworth: Showtime, some would say that you and seven other wrestlers are at a disadvantage here tonight, having to compete in a match prior to competing in the Lottery match. Do you view it as that and how do you plan on surviving both matches.

Showtime: First I don't view it as a disadvantage. You want to keep the blood pumping. You want to know how the ring feels. Sitting around and letting that tension build inside of you, that works well in the short burst. The 90 seconds you have out there before the next competitor comes out, but what about the next 90 seconds or the ones after that. The Lethal Lottery match is a marathon. Yes there is a bit of luck in placement, but it's about surviving 29 other wrestlers. I've been surviving in WZCW for longer than anybody else. I won't have any problems wrestling in two matches.

Kensworth: Now as you get set to take on Matt Tastic for the Eurasian title, you have developed quite the long losing record these past few months. How do you feel you'll be able to overcome that and defeat Tastic here tonight.

Showtime: Leon this ain't my first rodeo. I've been in big matches. I've won titles. Tastic, well he is not your typical champion. How long did he hold the Elite-X title? Not very and that's cause he can't defend well. Tastic is everybody's favourite underdog. Puts up a good fight, but in the end he almost always loses, especially when a title or a title shot is on the line. Despite my loses I feel I'll have no trouble beating Tastic.When the match is as big as tonights will be I always deliver. A few years back I elimintaed Tastic from the Lottery match while he was standing on a stretcher. This year he's going to need to a stretcher to get to the Lottery match after I beat him for the EirAsian Title.

Kensworth: How special would if be to hold the EurAsian title for a second time.

Showtime: It'll be pretty special.

Kensworth: So many names in thus years Lethal Lottery. Many of them I hear could be surprise entrants. How do you prepare for something like that.

Showtime: You can't. I mean, you have to expect anybody will be out there. Look at last year when Kravinoff returned. This year maybe we'll see Gordito or Austin Reynolds return. Doesn't matter, it doesn't change the fact there are still 29 wrestlers to get through to win.

Kensworth: Who do you think the favourite is?

Showtime: Me.

Kensworth: Thank you very much for the-

Showtime: Hang on I want to say one thing. It seems to from what I've heard that I have to prove something out there. I don't have to prove shit. I'm a former 3 time WZCW champion and I could very well wind up a 4 time champion here tonight. Whatever benefits have been bestowed upon me, I've earned them. This ring in my ring, this ring is only for The Elite, and tonight against 29 other men I will prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that I am the best in WZCW.
 
Soon I would be able to wave goodbye to this meandering tour and head back to civilisation. All I had to do was hold on to my nerve for one more round. One more investigation and one more match, then one last flight before my hot minute in this hot mess of an island comes to a close. It’s hard to believe it’s part of the United States of America. Once in Gloom Springs, I’ll be able to scrub the stench of poverty and refried revolt off of me. If any of these plebs call me ‘gringo’ again, I swear I’ll-

Ay, pendejo! Would you park already? Some of us have places to be, yo!

At least it’s not ‘gringo’...

I feel the steering wheel in my hands, sensing the movement of the tyres as I park the ’66 Buick Riviera in the empty space. I sit in the car, watching the low-rider and the gangbanger inside pass me by. For a few glorious moments, I wonder how the Puerto Rican’s brains would splatter onto his windshield if I sped off into him right now.

Sir?

I looked over at my partner, Otis Freeman.

Hmm? Did you say something, Otis?

I asked if everything’s alright.

Yes, quite. I was just thinking about some of the local art I saw today.

Glad to hear it, sir! Looks like you’re finally enjoying the trip.

Constable Freeman...

I made sure the rookie knew his place.

...I am certainly not. Even if I were, that’s not what Gloom County PD is paying us for. Come on, son, I didn’t make you do all the legwork beforehand so that we can sit here and braid friendship-lanyards! Now let’s go over the information one last time.

Right – we are at 742 Diaz Avenue. That derelict building over there is called ‘El Gallo Rojo’-

I know, rookie. I happen to have driven us here. Just tell me who we’re looking for and be quick about it.

Sure... After the exhaustive research I did, the San Juan cops pointed me to a certain Luis Rodriguez.

And he’s the linchpin behind...?

You name it, sir... Illegal gambling set-ups, unlicensed liquor sales-

Victimless crimes, boy...

-and if the locals are to be believed, he launders money for every crook from here to Buenos Aires.

He must be a busy man.

I took the nightstick from under my seat and turned to Otis.

Signal for backup and cover me. The place looks deserted, but you can’t be too careful. If I’m not back in ten minutes, you damn-well come after me. Understand?

Got it, sir.

I shut the door and proceed to the dilapidated building. As I get closer, vague shapes and patterns swirl in the murky interior. One of the dusty windows is broken and I get a glimpse of what’s inside.

*click*

A sound I know too well...

*rattle*

There’s no denying it – what I heard was the sound of a revolver being loaded.

My eyes adjusted to the darkness and I felt a savage chill down my spine.

Two men...

Two piles of cash...

One revolver...

A lethal lottery...

Stop, I’m not doing this.

I turned away and jogged right back to the Buick.

What did you find, sir?

I saw two individuals inside an otherwise abandoned building. Neither of them matched Rodriguez’s description and they weren’t doing anything illegal.

It’s not a crime to load one bullet into a revolver. It’s not my problem, either.

I floored the gas and got out of there before Otis could hear any inexplicable loud noises.

*

For all his faults, Johnny Klamor was a gaudy dresser and therefore easy to spot in the bistro. His exquisite piece of arm-candy didn’t hurt, either.

Frankie-boy! It’s been so long! Meet, uh, what did you say your name was?

Hmph!

The cocktail-dress’s virginal white complemented the woman’s long, olive-skinned legs as she walked away.

Rookie mistake, Big Johnny, but I’m sure there will be other dames for you to entertain at your hotel suite.

It’d be impolite NOT to. On the other hand, the senoritas wouldn’t appreciate one of these...

He reached into the pocket of his sequenced green jacket and took out two cigars.

You smoke?

Actually, I quit a year ago, but it’s been a long day.

It was interesting to see Johnny’s face and cigar light up at the same time.

If you won’t tell, it’ll still be a year and counting.

I cut the cigar and snapped a light from the matchbook.

I didn’t know they still make these.

Would’ve made your job a lot easier, right?

It HAS been a while. I felt a little light-headed at first, but the tobacco had a smooth finish to it.

Careful there, Frankie, you know you’re supposed to puff these bad boys, right?

It’s been a REALLY long day, okay? Besides, I’m a bundle of nerves.

You don’t look it.

When you’ve seen the things I have in-between chalked lines, John, the body numbs up and you find ways to cope.

...like hitting the shooting range, road-rage or drinking alone – all three in one night, if you’re lucky.

The Lethal Lottery will have an addled Frank Mortlock and that’s about it. I didn’t care anymore, I just wanted back to Gloom Springs.
 
Derek Jacobs is the most confused man on the face of the planet right now.

As he sits in the living room of his modest apartment on the outskirts of Chicago, he thinks back to this time last year when his life unraveled.

Almost a year ago, Derek Jacobs went from the top of the world to the lowest point in his life. Betrayed by people he thought were his brothers, he turned to the one man that had always been there for him, only to find that he had died unexpectedly of a heart attack at the age of 45.

Derek tried to press on and gain revenge on those that wronged him, only to have his life further unravel, and he ended up being a broken shell of a man. After his attempt at revenge failed, he decided it was time to hang up his boots for good and focus on rebuilding his life.

He got a job as a corrections officer at the local jail, and opened a gym. He sold his motorcycle and bought a normal truck. He moved out of his expensive highrise apartment in the heart of the city and into a modest one bedroom apartment closer to his job.

If you were to compare the life Derek Jacobs lives now to the life he used to live, the one he left behind, you would think that he had finally found peace with his inner demons, and you would be right.

Unfortunately for Derek, fate is about to throw a serious monkey wrench into his life.

Three days ago, while in the middle of his perfectly normal daily routine Derek got the shock of a lifetime when he received a letter from James' widow, Allison. Derek had stayed in touch with Allison sporadically since his retirement from wrestling, and it wasn't anything out of the ordinary to receive a letter from her. What threw Derek off thought was the content of her letter. In her letter Allison only wrote two simple words, but these words threw Derek's life upside down.

He's alive.

At first Derek didn't believe it. Scratch that, he couldn't believe it. James was alive? How was that possible? Why did James fake his own death? Was he running from someone? All of these questions fired of in Derek's head, and he realized he didn't have a damn answer for any of them. The only man that could answer those questions supposedly was buried in a cemetery 10 miles away from Derek's apartment.

The only way he was going to get answers was to find James, and if he had to beat them out of him.

That brings us back to Derek's apartment, and Derek's confusion.

Earlier in the day while he was out running errands before that night's shift at the jail, Derek couldn't shake the feeling that he was being followed. Everywhere he went, he felt like someone was boring holes into the back of his head, and it wasn't the normal fan who recognized him. Whoever was following him was staring at him with such intensity that he thought he was going to burst into flame.

He shook the feeling when he got to work, and after putting in his eight hours he decided to skip out on the usual trip to the local bar to have a couple drinks, instead deciding to have a few when he got back to his apartment. The first sign that something was wrong at his apartment was the front door standing wide open. Reaching into his pants for his concealed pistol, Derek silently stalked into the front room, head constantly on the swivel for whoever broke into his home.

After clearing the front room of the apartment followed by the kitchen and the bathroom, the only room left is his bedroom. He had tried to stay silent during his stalk through the rooms, but unfortunately for him a dinner plate decided at the exact moment he walked into the kitchen would be a great time to crash out of the sink, shattering on the floor. That had been up to this point the most excitement he had seen.

As he walked into his bedroom nothing seemed out of place, until he noticed the note on his pillow. Whoever had broken into his home didn't steal anything, but left a letter explaining while they were there. As Derek looked over the contents of the note, his blood ran cold as he recognized the handwriting.

It was James'.

Derek,

For a year I've tried to talk myself into writing this letter to you, to explain why I had to leave the way I did. To leave Allison and my kids behind was one thing. To leave you behind, the man that saved my life and became like a son to me was completely different.

At the time, I was in some major trouble that I don't want to tell you about in this letter. The only thing that I can tell you is I found someone to help me out of the situation I was in and I believe that they can help us reconcile and we can be the family that we once were.

Please Derek, give me a chance to explain my actions. I'm not asking you to forgive me right away, but please...give me a chance. I'm currently staying in the Marriott downtown if you'll meet with me.

Until then,

James.


A couple of days later, Derek is in an elevator going to the eighth floor of the Marriott for his meeting with James. He promised himself that he would listen to James objectively before making any rash decisions, and that if his story made enough sense he wouldn't punch his lights out. As he gets to room 842, his resolve has started to weaken. Why did James leave his family in such a rush? Why did James leave me in such a rush?

As he steadies his breathing and knocks on the door, all of these questions are running through his mind. Slowly the door begins to open, and Derek stands face to face with a ghost, before punching James Parker in the face.

Five minutes and a short scuffle later that resulted in a couple of black eyes and bruised egos, Derek has calmed down enough to silently pace in front of James, who is sitting on the large bed in the room with a can of ice cold beer over his swelling eye. Finally, after a couple more minutes of silent pacing, or as it looks to James, stalking, Derek speaks.


I watched as one of the strongest women I've ever met cried herself sick over you. I watched as the light in the eyes of your children died when they were told you were gone. I fucking cried myself to sleep being rocked like a baby over you! Why James? Tell me right now what possessed you to leave everything you had behind like it was nothing! Tell me right now what possessed you to turn your back on your family that I know for a fact you loved more than anything.

Derek gets right into James' face and begins to scream at the man.

TELL ME RIGHT FUCKING NOW WHY YOU TURNED YOUR BACK ON ME AND LEFT ME WHEN I NEEDED YOU THE MOST, YOU SELFISH BASTARD! TELL ME BEFORE I MAKE YOU WISH YOU WERE REALLY DEAD!

James looks at Derek, his face pale and sweaty. The fury in Derek's eyes is matched only by the shame in the eyes of his longtime friend for the betrayal he is paying for now. Slowly, James begins to speak.

Derek..I'm sorry. I know that those words can't mean much to you out of my mouth right now, but I swear on everything I've ever loved that's the truth. I never meant to drag you or anyone into this mess but the truth is I was in some serious trouble last year with some people that could have done a lot worse than faking my death. The reason that I've been gone for the last year is I was protecting my family.

I was addicted to gambling, Derek. Real bad. I bet more money than I was able to pay and I lost everything. I thought that if I faked my death Allison could take my life insurance policy and pay off the people I owed. Unfortunately for me that only made them come after them harder. The reason I came back to you now is I'm in some seriously deep shit Derek. If I don't have the rest of the money to these people in three months, they're going to hurt my family.


Derek looks into the pleading eyes of James and for a split second he sees someone that's truly broken. After sitting down and thinking about it for a moment, Derek begins to speak again.

I hate you, James. I hate you for the pain that you've caused me and your family over the last year. I hate you for lying to us when you know that we could have helped you from the beginning. I hate you for turning your back on me, even though at the time I was a bit of an asshole myself.

I may hate you right now, but you're still family and I missed the fuck out of you over the last year. Whatever you need, I'll help you.


James lets out a breath he didn't realize he was holding as he goes over what Derek just said in his mind. It's not much..but it's a start. He knows that was the easy part though. Convincing Derek to go back will be a challenge.

I've thought about it, and the easiest way for you to help me out would be you going back to WZCW. Hear me out Derek; I'm not asking you to go back and stay forever. Just go back, stick around for a couple of months long enough for you to be paid enough to help me. Six months tops is probably all you need to be there for again.

I know that after you were injured at Kingdom Come last year your contract was frozen until you were able to come back and compete again. And I also know that you were making a pretty good salary before your injury. Add in a potential title shot or two, and we'll be fine in no time. As a matter of fact, I hear the Lethal Lottery this year is going to be for the vacant World title. If you win that and are World Champion, you'll be making a ton of money!


You know, for someone that was dead for a year you know a lot about the wrestling business and what's happened since you've been gone.

Smartass. All I'm saying is you know that you never reached your full potential there. You were starting to hit your stride in the Mayhem division when you joined forces with that preacher, and then after he kicked you to the curb you were never the same again.

Derek shoots James a death glare at the mention of Westhoff and the aftermath of their association.

I know, most of that is my fault for abandoning you. But this is your chance to make it right. You can go back and show everyone what you're really made of. No gimmicks this time. Just yourself, Derek Jacobs the ass kicker. There's two plane tickets sitting on that counter over there round trip to San Juan. Let's go kick some ass.

James sticks out his hand, and looks Derek in the eye. After a heartbeat of consideration, Derek takes the hand and shakes it.

Deal. But if you ever pull another stunt like you did, you'll be the ass that gets kicked.

Let's go to Puerto Rico.
 
The girl was walking alone down a street, the shadows lengthening behind her. She paid them little mind - the nights did not bother her as they seemed to both other people here. In the forest, at night, everything slowed and stilled, and strange creatures that did not walk during the day came out to do as they needed, or would, according to the rhythm of the forest. She did not think of it much different here, if the only difference was between creatures and people.

If there was a difference.

She rounded a corner as a breeze came around the corner, forcing her to shrug in on herself in a sudden moment of cold. It was late summer, now, and the heat was breaking in many places, this one included.

"Poor girl,"
a voice called.

"Are you cold?"


The voice was not unfriendly.

"You can step in here, where it is warm, yes,"
the voice called again.

The girl turned her head toward the voice. Standing half in shadow and half in light, the outline of a man faced her. His lower body was visible - clad all in black - but his upper half was concealed, although the outline of a rather oddly shaped hat could be made out. The girl was suspicious.

"I do not know you,"
she called back, and moved as if to keep walking.

"No, you do not, but I see you have no friends, and how will you make any if you do not try something new, hmm?"


The man made a compelling argument, and the girl found herself drifting back to a different time, a different place. Words rang in her head - was her loneliness of her own choosing, or of the world's?

This was the height of rashness of course, she - a stranger in a strange land - following a man into the night. He could hurt her, she knew, the same as any creature of the forest at night could hurt her. But she had run from them, even fought them off when she had had to, and she could do the same if this went wrong. She hoped.

Either way, she thought sadly, she had little to lose.

"Fine,"
she said wearily. "I am coming."

She stepped closer to the man, and he reached out an arm. Before she knew what was happening, she had been pulled in and was tumbling, over and over, and then down it seemed, down a long chute until she collapses in a pile in who knows where. She thought she had made a terrible mistake - that he had pulled her somewhere and held her there pinned down - but she was able to stand up and brush herself off, none the worse for the wear. The man was nowhere to be seen.

"H-hello?"
She called nervously, unsure of just what was going on.

Suddenly, lights burst on all around her. She shielded her eyes from the glare.

"Damn lights never come on before I get here, when it would be dramatic. Now our eyes have to adjust..."


The man's same voice was speaking near her. Slowly, her eyes widened as she was able to resolve the room around her. And, more importantly, the man next to her.

He was tall, clad all in black, except for his face, which was revealed open to the world. He was haggard and drawn, but his eyes burned with a feverish glint to them. And, most incredibly, strapped to his head was an enormous traffic cone that stretched two feet into the air. He stood in the center of a large group of machines, levers, computers, and various other gidgets all whirling away.

"Who...who are you? What is this place?"


Suddenly he turned and faced her.

"My apologies for the entrance, but the Entranzalizer is currently experiencing some malfunctioning. I am Doctor Doctor Doctor Docteur, that's MD, JD, PhD, mind you - the magnificent and the illustrious, and I am on the prowl."


The girl looked at the man with a look of dumbfoundedness on her face. She felt connections in her brain falling apart, everything she had learned in this country falling apart when confronted with this man who so wildly defied any standards.

To everyone's surprise, she sat down on the ground, balled up, and burst into tears.

Doctor Docteur looked at her awkwardly for a long moment.

"Uhh...err...well...are you alright, then?"


The girl did not respond. She only looked up, forlorn, and burst into a new set of tears. Doctor Docteur took a step back, a look on his face as if he were considering simply leaving her.

"But she could not be trusted with...the Device,"
he muttered, inaudible to the girl. He cleared his throat.

"Now, now! It's quite alright. Whatever is the matter with you? I followed you - that is I mean I found you and then and only then decided to invite you here - because I thought you were strong."


The girl looked up at him, anger replacing the tears in her eyes.

"You - you - all of you - you people are mad! No one here makes any sense. You go here, you do this, you do everything you do without reason! I finally figured out how to order the right sizes of things - small, medium, large - and then I went to one of your coffee shops and everything was in a different language! What is a "venti"? What is a "grande"? WHAT IS THE DIFFERENCE?! One of you dresses in a suit, the other is nearly nude! And then, and then, and then YOU - "
She pointed a finger accusingly. "YOU dress half as if you were a ninja out of a story and the other half with a TRAFFIC CONE on your head! Are those hats in this country, too? A million times I have figured out one thing, only for you people to change it! YOUR SOCIETY IS UNINTELLIGIBLE AND I REFUSE TO PARTICIPATE FURTHER!"

By the end, the girl's chest was heaving up and down, her look furious, and she found she was standing with a finger poking into the Doctor's chest.

He gently pushed the finger away and took a breath.

"My dear,"
he began slowly. "I wholeheartedly agree. But I am no ordinary citizen, and you should not take me as an exemplar of cultural norms. But I do aim to change them. Indeed, your statements serve only serve to reinforce my high thinking of you."

She cautiously looked at him, head cocked.

"How do you know me?"


With a flourish, Doctor Docteur grandly whipped out a remote and hit a single button. Behind him, a wall slowly opened up and revealed a panel of television monitors. They showed every station imaginable, including a live feed of the WZCW Network, which was playing over the largest, central monitor.

"I watch everything, young lady, and I have long been watching for one who might assist me in my goals. Smart, strong, cunning, and above all else, fully undoctrinated by the bounds of modern society. And you fit the bill, Aubrey Sloan."


She cringed when he said her name, which the Doctor did not fail to notice.

"I do not understand you still."

As if by way of explanation, the Doctor hit another button and a platform raised in the center of the room. Atop it sat an object. It was rather like a piston engine, and in another sense, it was absolutely nothing like a piston engine. It defied logic and sense, connections made here and unmade there, then remade in a place that should have been impossible, or were at least highly improbable. Whirling gears and gizmos ticked away, lines of fluid ran all throughout, and above all, it was beautiful.

"What...what is this?"

"Five years ago, I was an ordinary man with an ordinary life. Then, one day, I went to the grocery store. I was there to buy oranges and mayonnaise. They were out of both. It was too much for me to take. They said - won't these clementines and this Miracle Whip be enough for you? But it was not, my dear girl, it was not. A lifetime of compromises, a lifetime spent building the American dream, a marriage, children, all of it in fulfillment of a plan that made sense. And along the way, I compromised. Endless compromises. That was the day I decided no more. That was the day I decided to do something. That was the day I started building...the DEVICE!"

He gestured at the...the thing, and the girl knew it was the Device.

"What does it do?"


"Now? Now it does nothing. Too many missing parts. This is only a prototype form. I need supplies, I need things scattered around the globe. And for that I need an assistant."


The girl's head spun. This...this was nothing like she had ever experienced before. But her feelings didn't change. This country still made no sense. Nothing here made any sense. And for the first time, she met someone who did make sense, in an unimaginable way. And she found herself nodding.

"What will the Device do when it is finished?"


Docteur smiled.

"When it is done, the Device will eradicate all cultural memory in human beings. All of our learned habits, all of our hierarchical structures...gone, in the blink of an eye. And then you and I will be able to rebuild as we please.

The girl hesitated. Perhaps it was wrong to do this. But how many outcasts like her got nowhere because they could not understand the world around them? For all their strength and intelligence, they lost because they couldn't navigate a simpler conversation for all the idioms and slang. Perhaps they deserved an even playing field.

Perhaps she deserved an even playing field.

She heaved a deep sigh.

"What do you need from me?"


Doctor Doctor Doctor Docteur's eyes lit up.

"Then I have an assistant?"


"You have...an interested observer. For now."

He grinned like a madman. Or rather, he grinned like himself.

"Then let's begin..."
 
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