Lethal Lottery: Lethal Lottery Match

[Richard Blonoff]

The most anticipated match of the year has finally arrived: the Lethal Lottery! It will be an extremely difficult test for the 30 competitors who dare enter this match: unlikely alliances being formed, friendships breaking into pieces and a few surprises injected into the match along the way. However, for the sole survivor who stands tall after the dust has settled, they will have truly earned themselves an opportunity for the richest prize at the biggest stage in our industry: a World Heavyweight Championship match in the main event of Kingdom Come!

We wish good luck to every competitor and a front row seat to whomever walks out World champion in the match prior.

NOTE: Everyone not booked in a match is eligible. Submit your RPs here.

Deadline is Tuesday, August 25th at 11:59PM CST. Extensions available upon request.​

 

[Prince Vee]

Connor: He did it! Vee has broken his losing streak!

Anderson: Here is your winner by pinfall, Vee A.D.Z.!

The crowd cheers as Vee climbs a turnbuckle to work the crowd. Meanwhile, a sour Logan is rising to his feet. He looks furious as he runs over and ambushes Vee! The crowd boos as Vee’s music stops. Logan drags Vee off the turnbuckle and punches him several times. Logan then throws Vee over the top rope to the outside ground (which happens to be near the exposed concrete from earlier). Logan exits the ring and wastes no time. He lifts Vee up on his shoulders and nails The Provider on the concrete nearby!

Connor: Good god!

The crowd cringes and boos heavily. Logan looks emotionless as he stands to observe his handiwork. Vee is out cold as medical personnel immediately storm the scene and begin checking on him. Logan yells at Vee.

Logan: Just remember who stole your moment, Vee. I hope I see you in the Lottery, because I’ll eliminate your ass first.

Logan spits at Vee before making his way up the ramp.

Embarrassed and knackered by the brutal assault, Vee stumbles up to his knees. He stands up on one knee clutching his thighs when a medical personnel tries to help pull him up. But Vee sway away his hands and pushes himself up to his feet. But he couldn’t sustain the pain and fall chest first onto the floor clutching the back of his neck before the medical team puts him up in a stretcher and draws him out of the arena.

It wasn’t the pain his neck or head sustained that hurt him more, but it’s the embarrassment. The spit on his face. It felt like drops of concentrated acids that just decomposes his PRIDE. PRIDE, yes, that’s what Vee savor more than victory. Every time when he lost, disoriented or stumbled to get pass the line, it was his PRIDE that made his career, life, not to say the least, the whole of Vimal Adzenhan, before he becomes Vee A.D.Z. himself.

Tick-Thick-Tick-Thick-Tick-Thick

Some familiar sound, no a noise, that’s all what he, could hear. Does that sound familiar at all? No. But it’s something quite not pleasing. Not to break the silent which one would enjoy. What is it now? The tranquilizer doesn’t let his eyelids to open not more than halfway. He looks from the corner of his eyes where the amplitude of the Noise was heard. The clock ticks 3:33? Not so sure but he could see a figure, apparently a women in her long sleeve shirt and jean sitting below the clock in an armchair cupping one half her face with her palm. He dozes out again.

……….

In the morning…

The bright sunlight sneaks through the windows screen that flashes the mirror placed in the corner of the room. It reflects back right at the face of Vee which wakes him up. He shrugs his hands and moves it up to rub his eyes. He puts his arms high above his head and stretches, a habitual action for him every morning. Pain is lurking into his neck but it doesn’t seem to hurt as much it had before.

Vee: Where am I?

He questions and looks around. The walls had posters of THE HUNGER GAMES and GUARDIANS OF THE GALAXY. What sort of hospital would have posters of movies?

Jordan: You’re in my room dude. They just sedated you as you couldn’t fall asleep owing to the pain.

Jordan stands against the wall and smiles slightly.

Vee: Well then, that explains everything.

But his mind knows. It doesn’t explain everything. There was someone with him throughout the night. It seemed to be someone really close. He had felt that same aura in the room before. So strong and exotic. Just when his mind was PUZZLED with lots of questions, Jordan breaks the silence.

Jordan: Oh by the way, you want to hear this. SARA’s been here the whole night.

Vee’s face got so bright. BLIMEY!! That’s my PUZZLEBIT!! It was shady and dark till now because of the long sleep but it now it bloomed like a perennial flower that blooms with the sun.

Vee: You mean the whole night? Uhm I’m quite not surprised. But where’s she now?

Of course he wasn’t surprised. She would do anything for him. Vee sits up in bed and crooks his neck to the right and left.

Jordan: She’s in the kitchen making soup for you dude.

Vee gets up from bed and hurries to the kitchen pushing Jordan aside. He hasn’t seen her in ages now. He looks at her from behind. Her short cut hair got tugged up in ponytail and he hurries and just hugs her from behind wrapping his warm arms around her sides.

Sara giggles and slightly tilts her head to the left to see his face and kisses his cheek softly. Vee hasn’t felt those tender-lips in ages now. His face is all smiles and he squeezes her a little.

Sara: I wanted to give you a surprise visit to London for your Lethal Lottery event. But well unfortunately….

She pauses for a moment and pouts; sprinkling white pepper over the boiling soup. The incandescing smell of their love along with the soup spreads around.

Vee: Unfortunately? I’m fortunate to see you before my homecoming!!

Vee teases her by grazing his lips on her cheek.

Sara: Stop with your romancing dummy, you’re hurt.

Her face flushes red; she holds her thumb quite hard and turns off the flame in the oven. And continues.

Sara: I don’t want you getting hurt anymore.

Vee shows his habitual, more precisely, his natural defiance.

Vee: But I won. Broke my losing streak as well.

But his inner demon whispers that, it is a libel. Yes, it wasn’t. How could it be? The PRIDE, that’s always been his victory. Winning is just a word.

Sara: So? What’s next? You’re gonna compete in the Lethal Lottery?

She pours the spicy soup in three bowls. And looks at Vee, who now has his chin planted down her left shoulder.

Vee: Of course. It’s in London. Do you think I want to disappoint my fans back there? I’m not going to step away from this whatever happens. Moreover I’m alright. Completely.

He absolutely knows how chaotic the Lethal Lottery can be. It’s not an easy task to survive in the ring with the lightweight body frame against super-heavyweights. But his inner demons, no not the demons, but some subconscious soul that’s much more stronger than those demons giggles and mutters something inside his head.

It’s not an easy task yes. But not impossible. If you believe in something, then yes, believe it firmly.

He tugs his finger at the hem of her T-Shirt. That showed he’s nervous and apparently frustrated. But does he want to lose his PRIDE in his home country? No certainly not. His inner demons shriek that into his ears.

Sara: But I’m worried. I hope I can make it to the event but for now at least we can fly to London together.

She extends her arms with the soup in her hand. He smells it and smiles widely at her.

Vee: Hey Jordan! Come and pick up your soup mate!

……….

Inside the plane…

Vee glances down his eyes. Sara, she’s lying on his shoulders and sleeping. It’s not a long flight but, she had been awake throughout the night and he didn’t want to wake up her. He feels her presence; it seemed like a dream which one wouldn’t want to wake up from.

But there’s a riot in his mind. It’s not about Sara. It’s about the Lethal Lottery; in London. Yes, it’s his hometown and he wouldn’t want to lose his PRIDE in-front of his fans. PRIDE, why this one is more important for him? The huzzing and buzzing sound of the wind turbulence across the window pane of the flight buzzes his mind with a lot of questions. His mind was turbulent as much as how the wind is.

Logan: Just remember who stole your moment, Vee.

In one of his Pro-Wrestling fights back in a local gym, his dad was at the ring side. Vee hits a Sunset-Flip but his opponent rolled him over and grabs his trunk till the count of 3. Grimace filled up Vee’s face as his opponent celebrates the cheap victory and turns to Vee showing middle finger right at the face the Surrey lad.

Opponent: Just remember who stole your moment, Vimal.

His father’s voice echoed to his ears from the ringside. It was strong and didn’t need any amplifier. It always does pierce right through the heart.

Vee’s Father: You didn’t steal his moment wanker. You just lost your PRIDE there. It’s my son who won, Bugger Off!!

Vee smiles to himself. It wasn’t him who lost the PRIDE. It’s that sadistic cocked up tosser Logan who lost it. Just as when he was thinking, he felt some familiar energy surrounding him. Ah yes, the flight is about to land in London. Finally, he’s going to be home. He feels the vibe around him; he turns around to see the beautiful smile of Sara from his shoulders.

Does he need to win in front of his home crowd? Yes. Does he want to win? Absolutely. Nonetheless his inner demons and subconscious soul raises a consensus command.

YOU-I-WE SHOULD WIN!!

 

[NSL]

Everything is cloudy, but off in the distance you can make out a wrestling ring. The wrestler in red is on his back, stretched out outside the ring. There's a wrestler in all white, climbing to the top turnbuckle. They're masked.

Everything seems to slow down, and it hits you.

You're 13, and your big brother is yours and everyone else's hero. He has become a masked luchador, clad in all white, known as Arcangel Enmascarado. He's facing his greatest foe in a Luchas de Apuestas. Bestia Del Diablo has tormented him for months in the ultimate battle of good versus evil, but he's about to win. He ascends to the turnbuckle, and points right at you. Your eyes well up with tears.

He soars into the air, over the turnbuckle to the outside, and connects with his new signature maneuver, Intervencion Divina. When you suggested he attempt an imploding shooting star press, he said it couldn't be done. You begged but he wouldn't relent. But now he just pulled it off in front of thousands of flashbulbs.

He stands victorious over his opponent, and you hurry to his locker room, waiting to celebrate his big win. The few minutes you wait feel like an eternity, but finally the door opens. First, all you see is the dark red of his opponent's mask, blood dripping from the mouth as if the mask was alive.

He enters the doorway, and the light from the hallway seemingly radiates around him. You have always been in awe of how someone of such average size can seem so huge.

???: I got his mask! It's all yours, Michael.

You want to leap into his arms, and tell him how proud you are, but your legs won't move.

You look down, and you're in a wheelchair. Before you can comprehend your emotions, tears are streaming from your eyes. You realize you have been in this chair as long as you can remember, but don't understand how you could forget.

???: I'm so sorry, Michael. I know...

It's all my fault.

You know he's right, but there's no anger. What does this all mean?

As the room starts to spin, you turn your gaze to the flickering fluorescent bulbs over your head, trying to collect yourself. You start to realize that you're experiencing an extreme case of deja vu.

Except...it's not.

You slam your eyes shut and clench your fists.

*************************​

You open your eyes, and you're in a library. The books in front of you cover an array of topics, most notably the two books in front of you. One is opened to a page of the archangel Zadkiel. The other is buried under a mix of napkins and donut crumbs. It's a medical book, specifically covering injuries to the spinal column.

You re-read a section that you had highlighted in the first book.

Zadkiel is known as the angel of mercy. He helps people approach God for mercy when they've done something wrong, encouraging them that God cares and will be merciful to them when they confess and repent of their sins, and motivating them to pray.​

You lean back in your chair, remembering a dream from the night before. Everything from your brother choosing to be reborn, to his last match before the injury that has him laid up in a hospital bed. The doctor's say he may never walk again.

Your fingers roll the wheels of your own wheelchair back and forth, as if you were in a rocking chair.

You never blamed him for your injury, but he never let it go. It ate at him every day. If you could ask him now, he'd probably say he deserved what happened.

???: John? John Doe?

You hear a voice in the distance, but ignore it, and return to your thoughts.

???: John? Hello...? John?

It won't stop, so you turn to see who it is.

*************************​

You're lying flat on a locker room bench, Leon's face staring back at you. His eyes are wide, and his mouth is agape. There's a slight wheeze emanating from his throat, and you realize you're clutching his collar.

You immediately let go, rolling off the bench, and retreating to the corner of the room furthest from the light.

Leon: What the hell, John? I've been standing here trying to wake you up for your match.

Leon adjusts his tie and fixes his hair in the dirty, half-broken mirror that occupies the far wall.

John Doe: What do you want...Leon?

You're in the Lethal Lottery match. It's starting in just a little bit. I figured you'd like to be awake and ready. Sorry for trying to help.

My apologies.

Leon's face shows obvious befuddlement.

What's going on? You're suddenly, dare I say...nice.

I'm never...nice...Leon. I apologize for grabbing you. That is all. I've had a lot on my mind.

More dreams?

Dreams. Memories. Deja vu. Out-of-body experiences. They're all the same anymore.

Want to talk about it?

I don't...talk...about it...Leon.

Then...what's the plan? Sulk in here for all of eternity?

I don't need help from anyone here anymore. I'm doing my own research. I'm piecing it together on my own.

So...

You're leaving then?

Not nearly. That slip of paper that was in my mask said WZCW. There's a reason. I just need time.

And in the meantime?

In the meantime? Pain. Whoever crosses my path in that ring...they will feel the...pain...of every...memory.

John nearly chokes on the last word. His eyes seemingly disappear, leaving 2 black voids in the face of the mask.

I don't know who...Michael...is. I will. I will.

The deafening silence that follows John fills the room. Leon tries to turn the water on, but there's hardly a drip of rusty water.

You know, John...You can always join the rest of the guys in the main locker room, or at least request your own. You always arrive at these buildings, and choose the dirtiest darkest corner you can find.

If you don't like it...Leon, I suggest you leave.

Leon sighs, and leaves, allowing John to be alone with his thoughts.

*************************​

Your eyes aren't shut more than a few seconds, and you're sitting on a roundabout. The cigarette smoke dances in the humidity. The fog is so thick you feel like you're inhaling the clouds themselves.

The sound of a low-flying helicopter catches your attention, and it disappears behind a sign..."Welcome To London".

A split-second involuntary blink, and the sign reads "New London, Iowa" with a population listed of 1,937. Behind the sign is a large brick and mortar structure that almost hurts your eyes to look at.

It's lack of distinguishing features forces it to stand out against the green of the trees and backdrop of small homes. It looks...familiar. You lean forward, squinting, trying to make out the lettering on the side of the building. You walk towards the building. The words start to become clear.

NEW LONDON MENTAL HEALTH​

Another involuntary blink and you're back to reality, standing behind the curtain at the arena.

Your music starts...Your fists clench...Your eyes go black...You smile.

 

[K Web V3]

***BACKSTAGE POST AS97***​

Logan McAllister walked backstage in angry silence. New Logan, same results. Loss after loss after loss. A normal man would've said "fuck it" and moved on to something else. Logan couldn't. Hayden would never let him just quit, and Logan couldn't afford to either.

Logan entered the locker room and noticed Hayden wasn't there. "Hmm, guess he's out getting autographs" Logan muttered to himself. Good. He didn't want his losses to stop his son from still enjoying his time with WZCW. Logan showered and got into regular clothes, blue jeans and a Sox jersey that read 'Jeter Drinks Wine Coolers' He sat down and decided to rewatch his match vs Vee.

The crowd pops as Logan kicks out right after the count. Vee grabs his head in excitement as the bell rings and his music plays. Logan is in disbelief as he kneels on one knee nearby.

Connor: He did it! Vee has broken his losing streak!


Anderson: Here is your winner by pinfall, Vee A.D.Z.!

The crowd cheers as Vee climbs a turnbuckle to work the crowd. Meanwhile, a sour Logan is rising to his feet. He looks furious as he runs over and ambushes Vee! The crowd boos as Vee’s music stops. Logan drags Vee off the turnbuckle and punches him several times. Logan then throws Vee over the top rope to the outside ground (which happens to be near the exposed concrete from earlier). Logan exits the ring and wastes no time. He lifts Vee up on his shoulders and nails The Provider on the concrete nearby!

Seeing the result made the anger rise again in Logan. He stood up, ripped the tv from the wall and chucked it at the wall. "FUCK!" Logan's loud expletive could probably be heard throughout the backstage arena, but if anybody noticed, they sure didn't show it. Logan snatched his and Hayden's bags and stormed out of the room. As he walked the hallways looking for Hayden, he finally finds him talking to none other than WZCW legend Titus.

"Hayden!! Let's go. We're leaving." Logan shouted. "Hold on Dad! I'm gonna get Titus to sign my shirt!" Logan walked over, grabbed Hayden's arm and pulled him towards the exit. Without even a look behind, and before Hayden could argue, Logan simply said "Fuck Titus"

***Back At The Hotel***​

Hayden burst through the door, visibly upset he didn't get Titus's autograph. He went and changed into his pajamas and quietly just went to bed. He was asleep in a matter of minutes. Logan sat on the couch and took a deep breath. He didn't want to admit it, but he was lost. Nothing he did translated into success. He may have had WZCW's attention when he debuted versus Stormrage, but doubtful they still cared. While in thought, Logan's phone went off. It was his father, Thomas McAllister.

"Hey Logan! How's Ireland treating ya?" Thomas sounded happy to talk to his son, but Logan wasn't nearly as happy. "Ireland is great, but fuck dad....I just can't do shit right here in WZCW. I'm here, lost and confused. Nothing I do works. I keep spinning my wheels looking for some traction, and all I receive in return is defeat." Logan was pacing now as he spoke, but his dad was quick to respond. "Relax Logan. I think the fact you started as this company was in the midst of a world tour has hindered you. You haven't been home in years, let alone stateside in months. Now i know things between us aren't completely fixed, but why don't you come home son? Return to Boston and clear your head."
Logan hesitated for a few seconds before deciding it may be a good idea. "Okay dad. You might be right. Sure can't hurt to try. I'll fly out in the A.M." "Awesome. Oh by the way, someone from your past came looking for you recently. I passed along your number, so they may contact you. Call me when you arrive at the airport."

With that, Thomas McAllister hung up. Logan stood looking at the phone for a quick second. Who came looking for him?? And why the hell would his dad pass on his number so freely? Logan was puzzled and sat back down. He was returning to Boston. It had been over five years since Logan was in Boston. Too many bad memories had made him leave. He even hid his accent to the point where it was practically non existent. *DING!* Logan looked at his phone and saw he had a text message. From a Boston area code....

Remember me??

Can't wait to see you again Logan.

Logan stared at the pic in silence. How could he forget her? Brittany O'Shea had been a major part of his life since childhood. They met at age eight, and were practically inseparable everyday after. Most people in South Boston would tell you that they expected the two to get married and have a big family. Yet that wasn't what happened. Near the end of high school, Brittany began using cocaine. This led to many fights between the two, as Logan had a zero tolerance for drugs based on his two parents having issues with them. Eventually Logan would distance himself from her, going on to have his son Hayden. As a matter of fact, his last night in Boston was the last time he had seen Brittany.

Spoiler

It was a stormy night in Boston. There was a loud knock on the door. Logan got up and opened the door. Outside he found a rain soaked and pathetic looking Brittany. "What do you want?" Logan's tone had been cold. He had zero sympathy for this woman. This wasnt' the Brittany O'Shea he knew. Brittany looked up and spoke in between sobs "I...I need help Logan. I've lost everything. My family disowned me, I have no friends. And I owe some very bad people alot of fucking money. I didn't know where else to go.....help me Logan." "So you want money? God you've changed Britt. You want my help? Fine. I'll take you to rehab. Wait here" Brittany didn't argue, she just sat there on the doorstep knees tucked to her chin and waited.

Logan loaded Hayden into the car and they drove in silence to the nearest rehab center. They pulled up and Logan coldly spoke. "Get out Brittany. After tonight I want nothing to do with you. You're nothing but a pathetic drug addict ****e. The Brittany O'Shea I knew died long ago." She got out of the car, and before she could even say thanks, Logan sped away. Not just from Brittany, but from Boston itself.

Logan sighed. He was nervous yet excited to see Brittany. There was no denying she held a large part of his heart. Logan went and laid down, trying to get some sleep.

***LOGAN INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT***​

Logan and Hayden arrived in Boston late in the afternoon. Logan looked around for his dad, when he noticed a McAllister sign. As he approached the sign, he noticed that it was Brittany.
"Logan McAllistah!! How the fuck are you?!?" She dropped the sign and gave Logan a big hug. Logan just casually patted her back, unsure what to make of this at the moment. Before Logan could answer, she had turned her attention to Hayden. "Hey there! You dont remembah me but I've known you since you were a tiny baby McAllistah." Hayden blushed a little bit before answering. "Umm hi." Brittany smiled at Hayden and then Logan before leading them towards her car. "I told your dad I'd pick you two up. He was gonna make you take a taxi haha" "Not surprised in the least bit"

The trio arrived at Thomas McAllister's home after a relatively quiet ride from the airport. Logan could tell there was more on Brittany's mind, but she was yet to act on it. "Logan! I see you found your ride from the airport ok? Come here Hayden, give grandpa a hug!" Hayden rushed over and hugged his grandpa. They all moved inside where Thomas showed Logan his room. "Still like you left it Logan. Make yourself comfortable son. You're home."
Logan got changed and came out to the living room. Hayden was with his grandpa, the two going through all the old WZCW dvds. Brittany was just sitting quietly watching Logan watch his family. "I wanna watch a Titus match! Ooh! or Theron Daggershield!!! Or or Mikey Stormrage!" Hearing his son mention those three names irritated him. In Logan's eyes, those were three of the biggest fakes in WZCW. Kids loved those three. A washed up Hollywood actor, back to take a roster spot from a young deserving person. A fat man, who eats Taco Bell and plays video games. And lastly, a man who believes he is a damn fantasy character. These were who children worshipped, and they provided a false sense of reality. Logan decided to make eliminating these "false idols" an objective of his.
Logan snapped out of his train of thought as Brittany approached him. Placing a hand on Logan's wrist, Brittany spoke "I hope you don't mind, but I kinda asked if your dad would watch Hayden so we could go talk...." "Brittany O'Shea...are you asking me out tonight? Haha I'm kidding. Let's go." Logan wasn't quite sure what was gonna happen next, but he didn't care. He was already feeling less stressed and wasn't going to try and change that.

***DUNKIN DONUTS 4 YAWKEY WAY***​

The two former inseparable friends sat down with their coffees and a couple of donuts. One thing Logan definitely could say he missed was Dunkin Donuts. Logan took a bite and after finishing chewing he decided to speak. "You look amazing Brittany. I shoulda said that sooner, but wow..." Brittany couldn't help but blush. "Thanks Logan. You like pretty good yourself."[/B] Logan stared into Brittany's eyes and took a deep breath. "Britt, I just wanna say I'm sorry for the way I spoke to you the last time we were together. I didn-" Logan was cutoff as Brittany placed a finger across his lips. "Shhh Logan. Don't be sorry. I wasn't myself. I deserved your words. I NEEDED your words. They hit me hahd Logan. When you, my best friend, the only person I could trust told me I was a skeezah, I realized had hit the bottom. Since that night, I've been clean and sobah. It's because of you Logan, that my life is back on track. And I think i can maybe help you get on track in WZCW Logan."

Logan tried to not show emotion, but he couldn't resist. Tears began to form as Logan spoke. "Still. I'm sorry i turned my back on you Brittany. I sho-" Again he was interrupted. "Stop. That's the past. It's behind us. Now as to your WZCW careah.....Who the fuck is that on TV? Because that's sure as hell not the Logan McAllistah I grew up with. And sadistic? You are not a sadistic man Logan. You are just a single fathah, who has a short fuse and will do what's necessary for his child. That doesn't make you sadistic Logan. It just makes you a good dad with a bad tempah. Haha as mattah of a fact, if that qualifies as "sadistic" then Boston is ovahflowin with sadistic people!"

Logan started to get angry, but before he could speak, Brittany continued. "You look like you're trying to be what you think WZCW wants. Fuck WZCW. Be who you really are Logan. If WZCW can't see what they have on their hands, then fuck em. You should be by fah, the most relatable superstar they have. There's more single fathahs in the audience then there are escaped mental patients, or fitness gurus, or models. Yet they boo you cuz of your actions. Be yourself Logan." Brittany let out a chuckle "You know, I nevah saw you wear shorts in public till you debuted for WZCW. It looks.....weird. You should just go out in your jeans and Boston shirt. And stop hiding your accent!! Let it out! Don't be ashamed of where you came from Mistah McAllistah."

Logan took a drink of coffee before replying. "So let me get this straight. I can get on track if i just change my gear? No offense Britt, but I'm pretty sure it doesn't work that way." He appreciated her trying to help, but he didn't need fashion advice.
"No no no silly. But you gotta look right first! You aren't focused in the ring. You've lost half your matches due to a quick rollup. That screams lack of focus Logan. Most of your losses, had you in control, and then you lost focus and lost the match. Don't worry about the fans. You gotta focus on your opponent 100% of the time. ESPECIALLY in the Lethal Lottery. Do you remembah when we were togethah Logan? You were able to focus and also contain your angah. I was there to make sure you didn't pounce on every losah that decided to look at me. You have to FOCUS Logan!" Immediately after finishing the sentence, she reached over and slapped Logan. She watched as the anger filled Logan. "You probably wanna hit me huh Logan? Don't. You gotta be able to think clearly even while angahd. Otherwise you'll nevah last in the Lottery."

Logan rubbed his cheek and stared at Brittany. She was right. Every last word. He did need to focus and stop trying to showboat to the crowd. The Lethal Lottery was a chance to erase his winless start in WZCW. As the two stood up to return home, Logan felt relaxed. This felt right.

They pulled up to Thomas McAllister's home and Brittany was the first to speak. "Logan, I know you gotta go prepare to fly to London for the Lethal Lottery, but I just wanted to tell you thank you. Thank you for making me get clean. Thank you for seeing me while you were back here in Boston." "Come with me." The words came out abruptly, but Logan didn't shy away. "Seriously. Come with me Britt. You're right when you say I need to focus. And for whatever reason, when I'm with you, I'm focused. Not just focused, but focused and happy. I haven't felt 'right' in a long,long time. But today, with you.....it just felt right. Come with me to London Brittany. We leave in a few days."

There was a brief pause before she responded with a simple "Of course."

Logan just smiled as Brittany drove home. He walked inside and saw Hayden was still watching those "false idols" It angered Logan that his son was so obsessed with these frauds, but maybe it was because of his time with Brittany, Logan was able to keep cool and not ruin his son's night. Logan would deal with these people in due time.

***BACKSTAGE AT LETHAL LOTTERY***​

It was the night of the Lottery. Logan had just arrived, with both Brittany and Hayden trailing behind him. He didn't feel like the same man that had been wrestling these past few months. He was in his blue jeans, his Sox shirt and was also wearing a custom Sox jersey with MCALLISTER on the back. Hayden had the same, as did Brittany, though hers read OSHEA.
The three walked to the locker room and started to get comfortable. Hayden broke out his autograph book and ran off to try and add to his collection. This left Logan and Brittany alone.

After a long silence, Brittany grabbed Logan by the shoulders. "Logan, all it takes is two. #1 comes tonight when you shock the world and win the Lottery. #2 comes at Kingdom Come, when you will again shock the world and become the champion. Focus. It doesn't mattah if you entah #2 or #30. It doesnt mattah if Tastic, or Stormrage, or Howard, or even Ty Burna himself is in that ring. Tonight is YOUR night Logan! Tonight....."

Logan cut her off and simply replied.......

"Tonight.......I shock the world."

 

[Con T.]

Dorian Geigel could not help but toss and turn in his bed, still unable to fall asleep after settling down to bed two hours ago. He violently tossed, hoping to find some comfort in his bed. He felt none, as he could only recount the 12 hour day he just went through, at the hospital. He turned to the alarm clock, to stare at the blinking 3:17 AM provided by the alarm clock. At this hour, Dorian could only loathe the blinking clock, for taunting his inability to fall asleep. Next to him, his wife Ellie lay, but did not sleep. She kept her eyes closed, though, to feign sleeping; she knew Dorian to be a guilty soul, and didn't want him to know he caused her inability to sleep. Beside that, Dorian always kicked the sheets from her feet, which caused her to freeze. Not even the soothing sounds of the thunderstorm outside could help Ellie sleep, as the sound of Dorian contorting and twisting in bed kept her awake. Dorian twisted one more time, before sitting up on the edge of the bed. Dorian sat there for some time, completely exhausted, and yet completely unable to sleep. He sat at the edge of the bed for what felt like an eternity, silent as possible, as he turned back to look at his beautiful bride. He heaved a giant sigh, as he got out of bed, and put on his robe. He tiptoed towards the restroom, hoping Ellie wouldn't awake and see him like this. He made it to the bathroom, and turned on the light, rushing in to make sure the light didn't wake his wife.

Dorian turned on the faucet, and just looked at himself in the mirror for a very long time. His beard, quite unkempt, indicated a man who was taking less care of himself. Indeed, even a cursory look of Dorian's face saw a man with heavy bags under his eyes, and an overall look of malaise in his eyes. He cupped his hands under the faucet, hoping to wash his face, but could only stare at himself in the mirror.

Why?, Dorian thought to himself, as he looked into his own eyes. What's the point of all of this? He noticed that his eyes were still a little bloodshot, and that his shoulders were hunched. It didn't always use to be this hard...did it? He poured water over his face, as he tried to gather himself. He pondered this question for some time now. It wasn't nearly as prevalent as it had been for the past few days. But now, the thought was consuming him. Every second at work, he thought this, though kept it to himself. Tonight, Dorian knew there was no way he could escape this thought. He looked at himself in the mirror again, and sighed heavily. He turned off the faucet, and turned off the lights in the bathroom. He opened the door, and walked towards the bedroom door, again trying to avoid the creaking sound of the floor. He tiptoed towards the door, groggily opening the door and gently closing it as he walked towards his study. Once then, he turned on the lights, and plopped down in his easy chair, massaging the temples of his fore head with a pained look on his face. He rummaged through his old files of patients, as he breathed heavily. He tried to make sense of the old files, looking through old patients. After two or three minutes of silently studying, he threw the files onto the floor, and cradled his head into his hands. He stayed there for some time, only lifting up his head to see Ellie staring at him, with a concerned look in her eye.

"Go back to bed, dear." He looked at her with a pleading eye, though the tone was too tired to be considered begging.

"We both know I won't get to sleep until you tell me what's wrong."

Another heavy sigh, as Dorian looked up again. He slunk into his eas chair, and folded his hands in his lap. "That's just it, Ellie. I don't know what's wrong."

Ellie allowed for a pause, and then walked over to her husband. "Then, let's talk through how you're feeling together."

Dorian faked a smile, and looked his wife. "Hey now, that's my job."

"Doctors need help, too, sometimes."

He snickered to himself, before going back to his files.

"Rough day at work?"

"Ellie...I don't even know if I'm really helping these people."

Ellie seemed legitimately taken aback by this, as she gathered her thoughts. "Of course you are, sweetie. Why...why would you ever think that?"

Dorian again sighed heavily, while looking at the file of a patient with schizophrenia; a case that resulted in the suicide of his patient. "Ellie...so many of my patients die. No matter how hard I try...I can't save them all."

As quickly as possible, Ellie shot back, "No one's asking you to, dear."

"Shouldn't they, though? I'm a doctor, dear...my job is to save lives." He paused for a second, before picking up another file. "Have I ever told you why I keep these files, dear?"

Ellie shook her head, anxious to her husband's concerns. He looked down, as tears started to well.

"They're all patients who died under my watch, Ellie. Every night, I look at these files. And I try to find some hidden bit about them, something that I missed. Something that could...I don't know, bring them back."

Ellie paused, as the room was silent for some time. "Sweetie," she began, with a soothing tone to her voice. "Sweetie, you can't bring someone back from the dead."

"And why not?". Dorian realized that he had shouted at his wife, as she cowered away from her husband. He realized now he was standing. He sat back down, and lowered his voice."I know I can't bring them back...but I'm sure their families would give anything to bring them back. I mean...what would you do, if I died?"

Ellie had no response to this, and couldn't form a response. She stammered for a few seconds, before confessing, "I'd do everything I could to bring you back." They sat in silence, for some time. Dorian read through the files of his patients, as Ellie searched for what to say next. "Dorian, every doctor loses patients. It doesn't make you a bad doctor to lose patients."

"It's just... what's the point, Ellie? All my life, I was told to value life, and treasure it. But when I see so much death happening in front of my eyes...What's the point in trying to save people that are going to die, anyway? I never think my patients are getting better...every day, I hear them tell me things they think I want to hear. And then, one week later, nothing's changed. They're still sick...I haven't made them any better. I haven't saved anyone..."

There was a silence, as Ellie absorbed this information. Dorian put his head in his hands again, and silently wept for the lives lost. Ellie put a hand on her shoulder, being sure to give Dorian his time. She walked over to the iPod player, and she chose a certain song. The very song that Dorian insisted on having for their first dance, at their wedding:

[YOUTUBE]cvuNo02q0mY[/YOUTUBE]​

The opening chords caused Dorian to bawl, as he thought of the lives lost. Ellie walked to her husband, and picked him up from the chair. She hugged him, as he clasped his arms around her waist, and cried in her shoulder. As the music continued to play, Ellie began to sway from side to side. She tried to move Dorian's hips, in an attempt to get him to dance with her. He shuffled his feet, as he clung tightly to his wife. You saved me," she whispered gently into his ear, as he buried his face into her neck. "And you are an amazing doctor...the world needs your talents, Dorian. And I need...God knows what I'd do without you."

Dorian's eyes began to dry, as he looked at his wife with a deep admiration.

"And as long as I'm here... You can not quit, do you understand me? I won't let you give up on something you really care about. I will not let you give up saving people. As long as I'm here, you keep saving people, you hear me?"

Dorian slowly nodded, as he looked into the eyes of his wife.

"This world needs you, Dorian. You and I know it. And if this world were going to Hell, I'd want you standing right next to me. No matter what, Dorian."

They kissed, as Ellie looked to her husband.

"No matter what. Now promise me, you will never give up, Dorian."

Dorian looked to his stack of patients, the lives of which he tried so hard to save. "No matter what." He dried his eyes, and Ellie took him by the hand, to go back to bed.

"Doctor! Doctor, I found him! I found-"

Chastity rushed into the Doctor's office, as Dr. Zeus sat, burning manila folders in a trash can. The flames leaped higher, as Dr. Zeus stared into the engulfing flames. He sat with a somber expression on his face.

"Doctor? Doctor, what are you doing? Doctor...What, what is this?"

"The files of every demon that we have faced.
All of their data, all of the icons we've defaced."

Chastity looked to the doctor with a puzzled puzzled expression, as Dorian lit another folder on fire. She went to his desk, and looked into the folders. "Alright...and you're setting them on fire...for what reason?

"Chastity, there's no longer a will to fight.
There's no possible way we can handle the devil's might!
Can't you see? Without the help of God,
Our attempt to save the world is inherently flawed!"

Chastity's eyes enlargened, as she saw Dr. Zeus light more files. "Doctor! Doctor, that's insane! Doctor, why?!"

Dr. Zeus continued to light the folders, as he ignored Chastity's plea. Doctor?! Doctor, why?!" Again, silence from Dr. Zeus, as he continued to light the folders on fire. "Don't you dare ignore me! You asked me to come back, you said you needed me! You said that you couldn't do this without me. I deserve to know why, Doctor!"

Doctor finally set down his files, as he pondered for a moment. Quietly, he began to speak;

"Do you really want to know what's insane?
Thinking that saving the world is something humane.
Thinking that these people are worth being saved,
a world that's allowed itself to become enslaved.
A people that worship false idols as Gods,
A people that bows at the knees of frauds!"

Dr. Zeus pointed to the wall, which had a projector playing. On it, Chastity could see Dr. Zeus fighting Titus. Titus had just landed a superkick on Dr. Zeus, and Chastity witnessed the crowd come unglued. After a hard fought battle, Titus landed on top of Dr. Zeus, and the people gave an ovation to Titus, as his hand was raised.

"Look at these people, how sick can they be?!
Look at them surrender their truth and dignity!
Bowing before a person who is merely a man,
Unaware that their doom lies very close at hand!
Unwilling to repent for all of their sins,
And cheering on heretics as they gather their wins!"

"Then embarrass those heretics, prove them to be false idols, and destroy these men! You have the chance to do just that, in the Lethal Lottery. You get the chance to destroy every person in front of you, and march on the path of righteousness towards Kingdom Come!"

Oh, how easy, I'm sure it must be!
With God's power, I could barely top Kurtesy!
Do you remember last year, as my Pale Riders aligned!
And yet Ty Burna broke my spirit, and had me confined!"

"And yet Ty Burna's gone, and you're still here!" Chastity got into the face of Dr. Zeus, incensed at the Doctor's resignation. Dr. Zeus could not even look Chastity in the eye. " I remember last year, Doctor, too...I had lost hope, too. But then you came back! You called for my help! You showed me that even through the darkest times, that is those with virtue that will ultimately thrive!"

Doctor Zeus took time to consider this, as Chastity slapped Zeus in the face. Zeus menaced over Chastity, but thought better of his actions.

"You can't save them all, Dorian! But you can save the Earth! You can save all the people that deserve to be saved! Doesn't that matter to you, Doctor!"

Doctor Zeus slunk back in his chair, and looked at the remaining folders. The Good Doctor looked to his studies, and sighed heavily.

"Is it really worth saving these swine!
If they can't see the need for a voice so divine!
Then perhaps they should be sent to the fiery pit!
Why should I care about these people one tiny bit!"

Chastity looked angered, but looked away from Dr. Zeus. Again, she slapped Dr. Zeus, as tears welled up in her eyes. "Because if you don't, I die, too! Any the souls of anyone you have ever known and loved will be confined to the bowels of hell! Everyone, Doctor! We need you... God damn it, I need you!"

Dr. Zeus looked up at Chastity...And a music played in his mind.

[YOUTUBE]cvuNo02q0mY[/YOUTUBE]​

As he looked around, he could see the Doctor's Office slowly fading to black. In its place, the study which he remembered so fondly appeared. Dr. Zeus walked through, and silently observed as a younger, happier version of himself danced with a beautiful enchantress. His feet silently shuffling, he saw as light filled the darkness. He watched carefully, and for the first time in weeks, smiled. He could see the lips moving of the dancers, but could not make out the words. He did not need to; he knew exactly what these two were saying to one another. He was finally able to see the eyes of his beautiful wife, and could see her mouth the words that always haunted him.

"No matter what. Now promise me, you will never give up, Dorian."​

Doctor Zeus fell to his knees, and wept. He wept, and he wept, as the two figments of his imagination danced before him. For he realized allowing for the demons to win would send Ellie's soul to Hell! He could not ever allow for her soul to be in agony...He would never fail her again.

No matter what.​

The music faded away, and Doctor Zeus again was left with Chastity, who had hugged the Doctor. She wrapped her arms around him, bent before him on one knee. They looked at each other, and Chastity was crying, too. Dr. Zeus cleared his eyes, as he made it to his feet again.

"We will never quit, I will save us all.
I will save us, and answer God's call!
I will win destroy all demons that come to my sight!
I will be the shining beacon of the hopeless night!
And as I vanquish my final foe,
Across the world, the people shall know.
Their salvation lies within my hands,
And I will bring them to God's promised lands!"

Dr. Zeus had worked himself up to a fiery rage, as Chastity smiled with pure glee.

"And as I send the demons back to a Hell permanently shut.
I shall show God that we are worth saving...No matter what."

He looked to Chastity, as she handed him the blowtorch he so fondly held before.

"And we shall ascend to God's throne.
Even if you and I do it alone..."

"Um....that's just it, Dorian. You see...we aren't exactly alone..."

Doctor Zeus' eyes perked up, as he considered what Chastity had said.

"So you and I are not alone in the trench?
I urge you, speak know, of gracious wench!
Could it be you've heard from God above!
He has graced us with tidings of love!"

"Not exactly." Doctor Zeus looked puzzled, as Chastity walked towards the door. "But we're not alone, either. One of God's weapons...has been discovered. We...I...have found a soldier in the name of the Lord..."

"Then bring him to me, bring him to me now!
So that this soldier will avow!"

Chastity went to the door, and brought forth someone of Dr. Zeus' past. A weapon of sainthood, and someone that would fight along Dr. Zeus. Zeus looked on with glee, at the monster that stood before him. He kneeled before the soldier, and bowed before what would be his greatest weapon, in the battle against the unholy army of the Lethal Lottery.

 

[FunKay the Inevitable]

In darkness, a Crimson lady sat, alone, casting a shadow of real frustration. Hours ago, Celeste Crimson, her partner, Steven Holmes and his latest ‘project’, Abel Hunnicutt, all sat for what was to be an introductory dinner. It didn’t go the way Celeste had planned. While she knew the inside working of Holmes’ mind, she was only revealed the interior of Hunnicutt’s at the conclusion of a dinner she had not exactly found appetising. Now she remains silent, still dressed for the occasion, the flames of Holmes Manor’s central fireplace having died down and her food now stone cold. Her life is not as it should be. Order must be restored, she must take her man back from the tyrannical addiction that WZCW and the world of professional wrestling has on him, she must--

???: Celeste?

Quick as a fox, the fatal female turns to source of the sound. There, stood in his evening wear, is Steven Holmes. His cane draped over his arm, he fastens his gown.

Holmes: Darling, its well into the evening, and our bed grows cold with your absence. What could be so captivating about this dinner that you haven’t even dared to eat?

She ponders the question. Is it a loaded one, is he a step ahead of her? Mind games were always one of his most fearsome weapons, and he had played them even on her, hell, in pursuit of her. There was no prolonged eye contact either. There was something devious in the depths of his mind.

Holmes: I know it’s a fine mahogany finish but that doesn’t exactly explain your sudden obsession over it.

He marched with the slightest of limps, the floorboards creaking lightly in response. His movement took him around the table as he rummaged into his gown’s pocket, fetching something. Putting it to his mouth, she deduced it must be his pipe.

Holmes: Come, Ms. Silver, what’s on your mind. Mr. Gold would like to know.

Bringing up those names from long ago; seduction or explanation? Whatever the case, this was blatant manipulation. He stopped, back to Celeste, resting by the fireplace. Then came the flame, a match igniting, defiant light creeping into the vast blackness of the room. Holmes’ face was partially lit, cruel darkness interrupting the bright portions exposed by the match. Celeste studied those features, the ones she had longed for, for so, so long.

Celeste: There’s a monster in the house and I want it out.

Holmes: But my dear…

His pipe lit, Holmes casts the remnants of the flame and match into the cauldron, the fireplace igniting as if this were hell itself.

Holmes: There has always been a monster in this house!

In all his bravado, Holmes turned; arms stretched wide, cane in one hand, pipe in the other. A grotesque dark figure loomed over the now lit walls, expressionistic shadows cast all across it like jagged figures on a gothic cathedral. Then, after a moment, he lowered his arms, returning the pipe to his mouth, puffing away.

Holmes: And now there are but many.

Celeste: And what exactly does that mean? Am I supposed to assume you are referring to the both of us as beasts like that creature you drug back from your excursion to God knows where?

Holmes: You could view it that way, I suppose, though I’d rather point this out: we have both talked at length about wanting to burn WZCW to the ground, revolutionise, reinvent it, sculpt it in our glorious visage and start anew. I thought that opportunity was past with our retirement into parenthood, but there has always been this festering pile of mass sitting in my gut. That’s why I went back. That’s why I took the blows and dished out all the more en-route to Kingdom Come in Tokyo last year.

I was going to make it a grand spectacle fitting my moniker of ‘Elite’ and then Chris K.O. ruined that. But not just K.O., no, there was Ty Burna, and Dorian Slaughter and David Cougar, and John Constantine. All stealing my name, just as K.O. had damaged my body, they had wounded my pride. Stole my name and drug it through the mud to satisfy their needs. I had my revenge against Cougar and his like has not been seen since, and Slaughter has gone AWOL after his most glorious prize. Karma, she truly is a fine lady.

WZCW owes me my career, my passion; it owes me a therapy for that unstoppable thirst for blood that lurks inside me. That is what Abel seeks as well, something to quench that thirst. What we’ve done so far is but a taster, the Lethal Lottery will present itself as the most prime opportunity. Abel will unleash the hell that dwells within him and I and he will take the glory and the grandeur on the greatest and grandest stage WZCW can afford, Kingdom Come.

And don’t think you’re exempt my dear. There is a beast inside you, as you say, but you’ve trained it, conditioned it. You had left and come back from the ring time after time before we found each other. The monster inside you is prepared to don high heels and slim line dresses but don’t pretend it doesn’t lust for combat; it doesn’t wish to tear the limbs of those who oppose her and doesn’t wish to feast on the flesh of her foes. I know, I’ve seen it, and just as a phoenix rises from the fire, I know you Celeste, my beautiful darling, will rise from the Crimson and cast your brand of violence on your foes once more. It is destined.

Holmes, as is his custom, has begun frothing from the mouth, lost in his own grandiose ramblings of power’s that may come. Celeste offers him a steely gaze, and there is a tense moment as they intensely stare one another down, but Holmes breaks the battle of wits first and smirks. She can’t help but follow moments later. Then he offers her his hand and she takes it, rising from the chair for the first time in hours. He pulls her closer for an intimate embrace. She briefly interrupts it.

Celeste: I’m retired Steven, I don’t intend on making any grand returns anytime soon, but if you rant like that again, don’t think I won’t be making you my first victim.

There is another false beat of intensity, but he breaks it, letting out a hearty chuckle.

Holmes: I have missed you my darling. Come, the service deal with this. You and I have more important matters to attend to.

They return to their embrace as the flames flicker on in the fireplace and the night lingers on for the hours to come.

_______________________________________​

We find ourselves in an abandoned industrial warehouse. In direct contrast to the opulent home of the Holmes/Crimson family, this is a place of desolation, diseased in appearance, old and rotting like a wound torn asunder. Water drips in via a leaking, rusting roof. Damp infected walls appear a gloomy, vile colour. Light can barely pierce through the mold covered windows. The only life that in fact exists here is that of the rats who live in a constant state of battle. They scurry around seeking any morsel of food they can scavenge but face fierce competition from their fellow rodents. Such an encounter is taking place now.

A large brown rat has discovered a small piece of bread. It is wet through, falling apart and glowing a sickening shade of green. He does not care though. It is his. No one can take this from him. He has found it and in this realm, that gives him ownership. However, a new being enters, it too claiming rights to this valuable life supply; an albino rat. It’s blood red eyes locking onto its brown counterpart, it tilts its head to the left and lets out a tiny squeak. It appears innocent enough, but something dark hides behind those red eyes. The brown rat sees that and refuses, making a break for it with the bread; the albino follows, in pursuit.

Albino squeaks loudly, much more violently than before. It is hunting, desperate, dying for something to eat. It needs to feast. Brown however refuses to comply. He too needs to eat and live and survive, even if all that comes from such a lowly piece of food. Suddenly the squeaking becomes even more rapid and intense from the albino. It is closing in. The brown rat’s size and need to hold the food slows it considerably. With a great leap, the albino latches itself onto its brethren, sinking its buck teeth firmly into brown’s neck. A terrible, blood curdling sound erupts from brown’s mouth. It sees the end of all things and knows it has fallen prey to albino. With violent precision, albino forces brown’s neck around, twisting it until snapping. The light in brown’s eyes die.

Silence falls. After a moment, albino casually moves towards the tiny buffet. Teeth still coated in brown’s blood, begins to feast. Brown’s corpse lies cold, motionless behind. Albino does not care, it needs to survive. Then, an interruption. Heavy footsteps click and clack off of the stone floor, splashing there way through puddles of diseased water that have accumulated through the years of emptiness. Fear grips the blood thirsty albino. The darkness that hid behind those red eyes, has become a rouge of a terror. The footsteps cease and a paw like hand grabs the rodent. It squeaks, not innocently, not with violent malice or intent, but with pure, unadulterated dread. Held up, it faces the face of a man, a beast, a creature of biblical proportions: Abel Hunnicutt.

Abel: They say life’s not fair.

Loosening his grip, Abel allows the albino rat to squirm a little more, and wriggle itself free. Realising it’s a long drop the rat clings to Abel’s hand for the time being.

Abel: I don’t agree.

Albino panics and begins to run. Hunnicutt moves his hand, twisting and turning it, trapping the rat in a cyclical series.

Abel: It ain’t fair that you get held down, that you starve and don’t know when or where your next pay check’s comin’ from, but it ain’t fair for a lot of people. Some folks live their whole lives hunitn’, killin’ to survive. They don’t want to, but they have to. Then there are some folks who get a choice. They choose to ignore the necessities of life. They can sit on high horses and claim to be above all that. Then there’s that last kind.

Abel snaps his fist closed catching albino, but not hurting him, merely stunning him, absorbing him in fear once more.

Abel: Those who, given the choice, decide to hunt, to maim, to kill, to look into the abyss and allow it to look back into them. Steven Holmes, he’s one of those guys. Says it makes him a man of ideals, understanding the world on a base, monstrous level, unleashin’ his true self I guess. Me? I don’t know. There’s somethin’ lurking in the depths of me, of mah soul, if such a thing exists. It’s buried deep and I can feel it wrigglin’ and writhin’. It’s burrowed itself in, for life. My daddy planted it in me when he sowed the seed of my birth. It’s been naggin’, and nawin’ at me, devouring me since I became conscious of who I was born from and what I was born into. I could say that’s not fair. But that’s the nature of the beast.

When I feel the water’s risin’, when the dam feels like it’s ‘bout to burst, when the flood approaches, when the angry river rises, I dig deep and I block and bury it. The angry river dies. But each time, it takes a piece of me with it. Slowly its chippin’ bits off me, eroded me down to a beast, a monster.
If I continued to suppress it, eventually the pressure would gobble me up whole, eat me alive. Again, that’s not fair, but it’s what life throws mah way and I deal with it. An old sayin’ goes: ‘when one door closes, another opens’ and that’s what happened to me.

Now the rat is dangling from its tail, trapped between Abel’s index finger and thumb.

Abel: Deadhorse, Alaska was mah kind of town. I could bury myself in its snowy lands and dull my senses with its oil enthused economy. It was like a drug pumpin’ out into mah very self. It helped me become the beast, slowin’ it to a crawl so I could barely notice the transformation. Then Holmes rode into town an’ he found me. He taught me, he took me, he told me –‘ let the angry river loose’. If you want to remain human, let it pour through you, let it overcome you and let it devour you. Take that great weakness that fear that horror that you know it is and turn it into the greatest of your strengths.

Sure, the beast will never die. It will forever lurk in the pit of your stomach and dig itself in clawing itself free, risin’ out when the anger is turned loose, but let it, it’s part of your essence. Then you can become the real you. That’s what I’ve done and look what I’ve done. Some might say what I did to Backstage Bob and Everest ain’t fair. One’s not a wrestler, the other’s retired, but I got your attention, I helped channel my vengeance. Max Steele might say what I did to him weren’t fair, but he learned that even in Holmes’ absence, Aristocracy Reigns. Theron Daggershield could say that what I did to him ain’t fair, but he knows what it’s like to be at the World’s End now. And it’s only the beginning.

Ya’ll want to win the big one. Ya’ll want to be heavyweight champion of this world. But ya’ll need to understand what the world really is and what really lurks in it. I lurk in it. Ty Burna don’t know that. He talks about darkness and magic and the evil that it beholds, but he’s never truly felt it like I do every wakin’ moment. But he will. Titus has never known it. He says he wants to be your hero, wants to save you all, but he will come to understan’ he can’t even save himself. Dr. Zeus thinks he’s more monster than man, schemin’ deeds most foul, but he will wake up and taste the bitter taste of ash and despair, realisin’ there is only one monster in WZCW.

S.H.I.T., Stormrage, Howard, Kagura, Doe, Black, Scumm, all will ride in like false prophets promisin’ change and victory, all with a fair shot, but all fallin’ into the jaws of a beast and realisin’ the world is one great big cess pool an’ I’m king here. And when it’s all over? When the last man, woman, child, hell even monster, is cast over the top and left broken, motionless, then I will set my sights, set my coordinates to mah Kingdom Come and take the title, the crown, and seal the deal. I will become this world’s heavyweight champion and ya’ll will know I am the one, the only and the true lord of the realm. And that, that’s as fair as it gets.

Having ranted like his mentor, Abel notices he has been shaking uncontrollably. The monster beginning to creep out even now in this dim local. The albino rat is dead, shaken to death by Abel’s great strength, untapped as of yet in its potential. He drops the corpse of the fallen rodent and snickers and snorts, turning and leaving the warehouse as he had found it, filled with the cold harsh realities of death and decay in the world.

 

[Lee]

Titus: This sometimes gets laborious.

The whisper of WZCW hall of famer is heard as the camera sees him arriving at a restaurant. Outside are a group of paparazzi and fans. He sighs and puts on a smiley face.

He signs autographs, poses for photos and answers questions.

Man in Crowd: Hey Titus, are you happy to be back in WZCW?

Titus: I suppose.

MIC: What's your next plan?

Titus: Hopefully get to this meeting I'm now 20 minutes late for.

MIC: Can you sign these for me?

A man steps through the crowd, he's rather rotund, has glasses and a neck beard and a handful of Titus merchandise.

Titus: I'm sorry, I don't have time to sign this. See I've got a meeting that I'm already late to and as much as I'd love to I just can't.

Titus turns around to head into the restaurant as he hears the man in the crowd mutter under his breath.

MIC: What an asshole. He'd be nothing without people like me. I just wanted to sell some things on eBay, make some money.

Titus stops at the restaurant door sighs and pretends he didn't hear the guy. He makes an 180o turn and heads back to him.

Titus: I am sorry, I do have a meeting but if you meet me at this venue this evening at 8pm I'll be happy to sign your things. In fact, you seem the sort to have a blog. How would you like to interview me?

The man laughs and has a smile as big as the Cheshire cat.

MIC: I sure would sir. Which location did you say?

Titus hands him a card with an address on.

Titus: What's your name?

MIC: Mick.

Titus: Great, catch you later.

Titus shakes Mick's hand then goes back to the restaurant.

The scene cuts to the outside exterior of a large house. Inside we see a grand room decorated with awards. Two replica WZCW world heavyweight belts. A replica Elite X championship. Five Oscars. 3 Baftas. Sat is Titus Avison. The clock dongs for eight. Titus' assistant brings in Mick and leaves again. It's now just both men.

Titus: Please take a seat.

The calm tone of Titus cuts through the room making Mick shuffle rather uncomfortably to sit down.

Mick: Thanks, sir. What would you do first? The signing or the interview?

Titus: Please. Call me Titus.

Mick relaxes a bit in the chair and sighs a sigh of relief.

Mick: Okay Titus, I shall.

Titus: Or you can call me asshole.

Mick panics and starts shuffling about.

Titus: Now now, I don't want you getting uncomfortable. After all I'd be nothing without people like you.

Mick panics and starts shuffling about.

Titus: Before you ask me a question. I've one for you. Why should I sign your knock off merchandise and photographs printed from the internet for you to sell for $30 profit?

Mick: Erm, well...

Titus: Why should I? I've worked my ass off my entire life to get where I am, so why should I help you?

Mick: I suppose I shouldn't really.

Titus claps his hands rather sarcastically.

Titus: He gets it. Look I'm going to tell you a story that got me where I am today. If, and a big if mind you Mick, you turn up at any point in this story I'll sign everything you want and you can have my hall of fame ring.

Mick: Oh right, swell.

The fact Mick is nervous is obvious as the former Lethal Lottery winner has really taken a dislike to him.

Titus: So let me take you to when I was 14 years of age and to my home. You know where my home is, yes?

Mick: Keystone City, Kansas.

Mick smiles believing he has achieved something huge in his meagre life.

Titus: You're wrong. I was born in Newcastle, England. When I was 14 I was on a show called Byker Grove. There I loved the acting side and was offered a role in a teen horror flick. So at the age of 15 I left my family behind and moved to Hollywood. Do you know what Hollywood is like?

Mick shakes his head as if to say no.

Titus: Of course you don't. You've never even been out of Kansas, I very much doubt you've gone any further than Central City. You run an online wrestling blog, earn money from others hard work. You won't know what Hollywood is like.

Titus chuckles.

Titus: It's cut throat. Every single thing about it is survival of the fittest. In Hollywood it's Titus Avison who makes Titus Avison. Not Mick who lives at home. Do you think I won five Oscars by being a pushover? By doing what everyone wanted me to do? No! I did it because it's what's best for me. That's why I've got an American accent, because that gets Titus the roles.

Titus stands up and walks to his award collection.

Titus: Four of these were before I started wrestling. By the age of 24 I had four Oscars. Do you know how many other people can say that?

Mick: No one.

Titus nods.

Titus: You're learning. Did I need your help on any of these Oscar victories?

Mick: No.

Titus nods again.

Titus: BINGO!

Titus laughs rather manically.

Titus: Of course I didn't. Do you know why I joined WZCW? It wasn't to do with fame, fortune or anything else. It was simply because I wanted to prove I could.

Mick: Oh yeah you were great when you started in WZCW.

Titus: I got there by myself. I was overlooked by the guys in the back because I was an actor but I bloody showed them. Hasheem it was who I took down. Then something else came on the horizon.

Mick: What. What was that?

He stumbles his words as the room suddenly goes black. You can hear Mick struggle and when the lights come on he's tied to a chair. Titus is not visible.

Mick: What the hell, you're crazy!

Titus steps forth from the shadow dressed in the costume of Keystone City's vigilante Red Mask.

Titus: I wanted to be a superhero. So I did. I didn't do it because I needed to protect them. I did it because they needed me to protect them. Do you know how many people have been in your position? More than I could possibly count. Were you involved in this process?

Mick: I was not.

Titus takes the mask off and unties Mick.

Titus: Naturally you want to flee from this asshole. Yet there's a part of you wants to know why I came back. What is it?

Mick: I'll stay.

Titus smiles a psychotic smile we've never seen from him.

Titus: Coming back as Red Mask I wanted to cement the fact that I could do it without history. Unmasking and then going on my run was because I wanted gold. Elite X, World title. There wasn't even a HOF then, but I achieved it. Then I went and now I'm back.

Titus pauses.

Titus: For years I've made it myself but for years I've dropped it all for fans. For people like you making a fast buck. For families who interrupted my time with my friends. For young females disrupting goodness knows how many dates. For crowds waning to paint me as some sort of hero. For mobs making me 20 minutes late for a meeting costing me a $1million commercial. I've had enough with the lot. So Mick I want you to take this away for your blog. Titus has changed. He's not your happy go lucky guy any more, he won't stop for the fans. He's self made and now he doesn't give a crap what you people think. I want to do things my way and have some peace for once.

Mick: I should probably leave.

Titus chuckles again.

Titus: You probably should.

Fade to black.

 

[red ass skull muhfukkah]

Alhazred walks through the curtain after his loss to Kendrick Xavier. Beaten and embarrassed, he throws his bag of Wendy's in the trash. He wipes his salty hands on his pants and heads to his locker room. He walks past various wrestlers and employees, not a single one says a word or looks at him. Even after all these years in the company; not a single friendly face. For a long time he thought it was fear that kept him from friendship with the other men and women in the locker room. He was dangerous, a wild card, a deviant, completely insane. The only thing he ever connected with was a cardboard robot. Lately he'd been noticing the looks on people's faces as he walks by, it wasn't fear that covered their faces but disgust. He was too weird for a locker room full of weirdos. For a man who stands out so much, he wondered how so often he would fade into the background. Fade back into the obscurity that has forever driven his life. How many times has he left and returned to great praise and applause from the audience? How many times has he failed at the moments that followed?

He walks by the locker room of Cerberus and stops. Even with his greatest friend and ally at his side, full of determination and hatred, bent on destruction of all those before them, eventually he faded into mediocrity. From stunning the world at Kingdom Come and becoming a World Tag Team Champion, to constantly losing to the very men he and his friend conquered. From one of his greatest moments to one of his most crushing defeats and back into nothingness in the span of a few months. This was his story. This is what he did. Constantly.

He flips off the door and keeps walking. His cycle has begun early this time. A great return and win over Cassanova, to losing a close match the next. Xavier is good, very good but he's still new and should have been crushed. But he wasn't, he kicked out of the Level 5. He kicked out of his best shot. How can he possibly defeat the best of WZCW in the Lethal Lottery when his best shot wasn't enough? He needs the Power Glove, his strength is weakened, his punches have more anger but less power. He's not the biggest or the fastest but with the Power Glove he could hit the hardest. He needs it back. The one person he trusted betrayed him and helped steal it. The one has been by his side since he was doing the bidding of a crazed Grandmother in the name of ancient gods. She'd stuck by him through hell and back, fought by his side against beasts from beyond the realm of man and men who held themselves in the same regard. So why did she betray him now? Why out of the blue would she steal the one thing that he coveted the most? Unlike most of his friends he had never harmed her or treated her wrong. He had been a friend and helped her as much as she helped him. He hadn't water boarded her like Fats, he hadn't swooned her family member like he did with Mister, he hadn't fought bloody battles with her like he had with SHIT and James King. So why did she do it? Why?

He stops at his locker room and opens the door, as soon as he does Waldo Williams runs up to him with a back pack and a notepad.

Waldo: I know where they are, they're in Japan, they went back to their home town. Super Boss Nova was an underground crime boss before coming here, they stole the Power Glove and are taking back his streets. Let's kill em.

Alhazred: I don't know. Maybe I should wait until after the Lottery. Can we go to Japan, stop them, reclaim the Power Glove and get to London in time for the match?

Waldo: Fuck yes we will. The biggest problem is getting back, stopping them will be easy.

Alhazred: Why do you say that? If he's the leader of a crime syndicate, surely he'll have a buttload of people protecting him?

Waldo: Of course he will. But I found someone you were locking away in your basement and was let loose. Someone who loves to crush faces...


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

Super Boss Nova sits in a chair in front of several dozen video screens. Each one shows a different angle of the city. He's watching his world. He picks a piece of lint off his red leather coat and wipes his sunglasses with a cloth. He puts a cigar and his mouth and lights it with his Power Glove hand. He holds it up and smiles, then releases a cloud of smoke.

Super Boss Nova: Nothing can stop me now.

Suddenly a loud thud is heard and one of the video screens goes out. SBN jumps in his chair. Another one goes out after a loud crash. Suddenly a large Japanese man in a black suit bursts through his door.

Large man: Boss, we have trouble.

Super Boss Nova: So deal with it. I have more important things to do than help every little problem you run into.

Large man: But this is a really, really, really, super, duper, big ass problem that is running into us.

The screams of a handful of men pierce through the room from afar, then the fire alarm goes off and the sprinklers turn on. SBN turns to the screen and sees lifeless bodies and fires in every single room. Furniture and debris are smashed everywhere. He takes off his sunglasses and turns to his subordinate in fear.

Super Boss Nova: It's not who I think it is, is it? Why did my sister insist on setting him free?! I wanted to burn him with the rest of that dump!

As soon as he finishes his sentence a body is thrown through the wall to the left of them. The debris from the wall covers the room with a fog, a large shadow forms in the opening. A loud laugh begins behind it.

Alhazred: Is that all you got Nova?!

Facecrush McSpinesmasher stomps through the hole and Alhazred is standing behind him. He puts his arm on his shoulder and leans against him.

Alhazred: So uh, you wanna give me that Power Glove-a-roony there Pooper Boss Nova?

Nova slams his Power Glove wrapped fist onto his desk and stands up in defiance.

Super Boss Nova: You think destroying this facility and all the men inside will make me bend to your will? You think that this is all that encompasses my empire? A man of your stature doesn't deserve to wear the Power Glove! You once said you entered WZCW so you could show the world the true destructive power of your ultimate weapon; well you failed. You never achieved anything of worth on your own and diminished this great machine into a cheap prop for you to bumble around with, thrusting at every woman you see while it is covered in Cheetoh crumbs! You are nothing Alhazred, you have always been and will always be nothing! I've had the glove for a short time and I've conquered an entire city with it! You had it for years and achieved nothing! Even now you taunt me with the destruction of my fortress when you yourself did not cause it! You are hiding behind a greater man and leaching off of him. You will suck the life out of him and gain nothing from it! Just like you did with Mister, James King, Fats, SHIT, the Apostles of Chaos, and my sister. Where they all now Raziel? Far from you, just like this Power Glove deserves to be. It called to me and begged me to pull it out of it's hellish existence and bring it the glory it deserves. I alone can wield it's power and now you shall feel what an attack from it should truly feel like!

He leaps across the room and punches Alhazred in the face and knocks him to the ground. Before Facecrush can react, Machiko comes through the ceiling onto his shoulders. She wraps her legs around his neck and squeezes him until he falls to his knees and then to the floor. Waldo swings at Nova but he ducks under and Level 5's him. Alhazred tries to pull himself up but is barely conscious. Machiko and Super Boss Nova stand over him and laugh.

Machiko: The one thing you always taught me Raziel is to never trust anyone.

Alhazred reaches his right hand out to her but Nova slaps it away.

Super Boss Nova: Game over.

Nova drops a fist onto Alhazred, as he slowly succumbs to the blows and fades away he sees a blurry shadow of an old familiar woman, whose laugh echoes through his mind as he fades to black.

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


Alhazred opens his eyes and finds himself lying on a park bench. He doesn't get up or move, he just lies still, staring at the grey sky above him.

Alhazred: Why do I even try? Nothing ever works. I have no friends, no family, no Power Glove and nobody cares. I've talked and talked about my greatness and how I'm on this grand path to glory but I fuck it all up in the end. Every single time. The cycle of failure continues, only this time I'm left lower than I have ever been. I'm not even gonna show up for the Lottery or to WZCW ever again. I'm gonna lay on this bench forever I think. So much destruction I've caused, who knows where Waldo and Facecrush are now. Probably somewhere better now that they're away from me. A big plan to get back the one thing that makes me feel useful in my pitiful life and I failed. I had a giant monster who can destroy anyone and a hulking bully driven to hurt as many as possible at my side and I failed. I failed again like I always do.

Super Boss Nova deserves my glove, he deserves it. He will achieve great things with it and his sister will be at his side and an will finally know what it's like to be in the presence of a man of worth. For some reason I thought I was going to save her, that she didn't betray me. She was kidnapped and needed my help, she needed me. But she didn't need me and she never did. She believed in me once, believed in all of the rhetoric that I spewed constantly. But I failed her too, she no longer believed in me and she was right not to. I failed my one glimmer of happiness with another person.

How could I expect to defeat Matt Tastic or Chris K.O.? How can I stand and fight against the best of WZCW and expect to do anything but fail miserably like I always do? I am not worthy of sharing the ring with the great Titus or Zeus. They all look at each other with respect, they know every man in that match will put up the fight of their lives to achieve the glory at Kingdom Come. But not me, they don't respect me. Why should they? I'll walk down the ramp and climb into the ring and everyone in the match and in the arena will give me the same look of disgust and disappointment that I get when I walk through the halls of the locker room. Those looks that have followed me my whole life, in school, at every job, every store I go to. They all think the same thing; why are you here? Just like they will at the Lottery. No more glory or trying to destroy my foes. I'm done. I'm ….done.

Suddenly a boy in an Alhazred shirt runs up to him holding a pen and paper and taps him on the shoulder.

In a British accent he says: It is you, it's Alhazred! You are my favorite wrestler in the world. I can't wait to see you beat up everyone and win the Lottery tonight! Can I have your autograph?

Alhazred sits up and grabs the piece of paper and pen and signs it. He hands it to the boy and pats him on the head.

Little Boy: Throw someone over the top rope for me okay?

Alhazred nods and the boy runs way to his mother with a smile covering his face.

Alhazred leans back into the bench and stares at the sun slowly peeking out from behind the clouds and he smiles.

Alhazred: I guess I could just throw one person over for him.

Scene fades to black.

 

[Thriller Ant]

The scene opens backstage at a WZCW event. There are wrestlers, officials, and attendants moving in every which way, coming and going in and out of view. There is one wrestler that the camera decides to follow. They follow him down a couple different hallways, until he sits in a chair in a dimly lit corner of the arena, setting a bottle of water on the floor next to where he sits.. Between the bustle backstage and the roaring of the crowd, this is quite easily the quietest place in the building. It is here that elegANT begins to speak to no one in particular.

"That was quite fun, wasn’t it?"

He pauses for an answer that won’t come.

"Indeed it was."

He takes a quick drink of water.

"He hasn’t always be the most upstanding man on the roster, but I believe that Chris K.O. is a good man and I had an amazing time in the ring tonight."

elegANT turns and acknowledges the camera for the first time.

"Oh, hello! I apologize for not noticing you sooner. This is a bit of a ritual I have after matches. I find the most secluded spot in the building and reflect on how lucky I am to do this. If I am to be frank with you, Eve Taylor has made that rather trying as of late. Losing doesn’t bother me too much. In fact, as you probably heard me say, I had a wonderful time tonight against Chris K.O. even though I lost. It was the denigrations and deceit that really got to me."

He pauses for a moment, shaking his head just before he speaks again.

"That is the past, however. It’s finally time for what may be the most anticipated match in WZCW every single year: the Lethal Lottery. That match will always have an extra special place in my heart, as it was where I made my debut in this company last year. In that time, I became the first insect to ever hold the Elite X Championship. I defeated the man who may be the greatest WZCW Champion ever, Ty Burna. And now, with a year of experience under my exoskeleton, I’m ready to have the most fun I’ve ever had in a WZCW ring by winning the Lethal Lottery."

elegANT takes another drink, this time splash a little water into his face.

"In an ant colony, there is always one head ant that is the leader. That ant is known as the queen, since in most colonies it is a female ant. That isn’t always the case, however. For example, I would be considered the queen of the colony of ants at my home. WZCW is very much the same. Here, the queen is the WZCW World Champion. That title may be defended many times every year, but there’s only one way to get a chance to become the leader of the WZCW colony at the biggest show of the year, Kingdom Come: win the Lethal Lottery. I know that no one is thinking of me as a favorite for this match. I’m just a lowly ant going up against the entire roster plus whatever surprises show up in an over-the-top battle royal where there’s only one winner."

"I know I’m going to have fun at the Lethal Lottery no matter what. And who knows, maybe it’ll be this underdog’s time to get a chance to lead the colony. Don’t forget, I am the only one in WZCW who has experience as the queen of the colony."

The scene fades to black.

 

[Find'er Woo'er Ryder]

Armando awakens a few hours after his kidnapping took place. He is tied to a chair and cannot move. There is a black bag over his head and he cannot see anything. Armando starts to scream for help. He scream at the top of his lungs for what seems like hours. Suddenly he stops as he hears a door open and he hears footsteps heading his way. He is scared from the unknown. Suddenly the bag over his head is ripped off with a force that pulls his hair. In front of him is a very Harmosa Senorita wearing a dress suit. Leaning up against a wall, is a big intimidating black male that Armando tries not to look at.

Woman-Armando, My name is Agent Titties....

Armando chuckles, causing the woman to stop talking and glare at Armando.

Agent Titties-As I was saying, My name is Agent Titties...

Armando chuckles again this time a little louder. Agent Titties glances over at the other man in the room. He cracks his knuckles and Armando stops laughing.

Agent Titties-My name is Agent Titties.......(Waits for Armando to laugh)....I'm a secret Agent of a secret organization that does secret things.

Armando-That's all great Tits, but why am I strapped to a chair like I'm on Roofies?

Agent Titties-My name is not "Tits". It's Agent Titties and I have been a member of FBI for quite some time now.

Armando's laughter is now uncontrollable. Agent Titties looks pissed and glances over at the man again, this times nods her head. The man walks over to Armando and smacks him right in the face. Armando Shrugs off the pain but his smile is now gone and he looks pretty pissed off.

Armando-What was that for?

Man-Armando, I am here to help Agent Titties train you. I will use force if you do not cooperate. My name is Agent Tinnydik.

Armando Chuckles a bit.

Agent Tinnydik-Armando what is so God damn funny. Do you find my name humorous?

Armando ponders for a moment before shrugging and nodding his head.

Agent Titties-Armando, let's get down to business. There is something fishy going on in WZCW, and we need you to figure out what is going on.

Armando-Wait a flying minute. Your telling me that your recruiting me to be a secret agent? My wildest fantasies are coming true!

Agent Tinnydik-We're as happy as you are.

Armando-Pshhhh, sacrasm much brah? Anyways, can you untie me? I gotta scratch the marbles or Agent Tits, can you do it for me?

He starts winking at her. He looks at him in disgust and starts to untie him.

Agent Titties-Armando, your training starts at 0400.

Armando-AM or PM?

Agent Titties looks baffled as Agent Tinnydik cannot take any more stupid comments and goes back to leaning against the wall.

Agent Titties-AM Armando. See you in the morning.

She walks out the door of the room and Agent Tinydik follows. Armando is left the wondering what the heck is going on in WZCW that the FBI is needing him? There's not that many Female body Inspections going on. He shrugs it off and heads out the door.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Now presenting Armando Paradyse in
The Magic Number​

Armando is standing at attention a few days later. The camera is spinning around him until it falls. Armando smiles as the camera guy fell over because he got too dizzy. He straightens back up Agent Titties and Agent Tinydik make their way over to him.

Agent Titties-Armando, you are ready for the Lottery. You need to find out which one of them is working for working for the AEA...

Armando chuckles again.

Armando-Ass Eaters Anonymous? Gotta eat that booty like a grocery store!

Agent Titties-You are just a disgusting, perverted, asshole, immature, man! AEA is the enemy. They are a horrible organization.

Agent Tinydik-Armando. You heard of James Bond right? Well, he is a high up agent that works for us. You are 0069.

Armando-And that is a magic number!

Armando laughs as the other two agents shake their head.

Agent Titties-Armando! This is serious business. You finally have a chance to not job out to everyone if you pay attention! Plus, you never asked what was in for you.

Armando brushes what she said off but his eyes get big as Agent Tinydik holds a full sized replica Mayhem Title in his hands. Armando claps his hands and jumps up and down cheerfully.

Armando-OOOOOOOOO gimmee gimmee gimmee.

Agent Tinydik holds the Mayhem Championship away from him so Armando can't get it.

Armando-What's the deal! I'll be your agent.

Agent Titties nods at Agent TinyDik, so he gives Armando the titles. Armando holds it in the air.

Armando-I feel like Zelda from Legend of Zelda! That little green guy always gets me laughing!

Agent Tinydik-Link is green guy...

Armando-Then who the fuck is Zelda?

Agent Tinydik-The princess...

Agent Titties-Armando, You need to find out who in WZCW is working for AEA! Go and begin your journey!

Armando smiles and runs toward the door and runs straight into it....

Armando-I thought that door was automated....

He opens the door and runs out of it now....

Will Armando find out who is working for the AEA? Will he get an upset victory at the Lottery? Why is Agent Tinydik's name spelled so funny? Tune in Next week to find out more!

 

[Bernkastel]

A light bulb illuminated the dark room just enough for the eye to catch the color of the faded paint on the walls. The room was plain, white, and musty. Like a purgatory for lost souls to travel to before moving on to their next destination. An overhead light bulb flickered. A figure appeared in the doorway. Cloak in shadows the figure tapped the switch and the bulb dimmed and faded.

“To move forward into the future, we must first start from the beginning…”

The voice carried an eerie undertone, not necessarily evil, but hostile nonetheless.

“…here…”

We see elegANT in the ring as he is talking to a medical personnel inside the ring. He is informing him about Kagura’s cut. He is making sure that she gets medical attention. Gozaburo is already in the ring checking on Kagura. ANT stands up from the scene with Kagura and turns to the referee presenting him with the Elite X Championship.

Harrys: Ladies and gentlemen, here is your winner, and NEW Elite X Champion, elegANT!

The crowd pops as ANT gushes over the belt in his hands. His music begins to play as he kisses the belt and then slides out of the ring. He starts giving fans high fives and celebrates with him. He finally makes his way over to a group of middle schoolers. He gives them hugs and climbs over the barricade to celebrate with them and the rest of the crowd.

“This loss did Kagura no favors. She had worked so hard to be a fighting champion, but very chance she had to prove herself she failed.”

The light bulb flickered on once again. The figure is now standing in front of a television, as the match between ElegANT and Kagura for the Elite X championship flashes onto the screen.

“But what we don’t see is the internal struggle. That girl was still struggling to find her identity, and being thrust into a position of success was simply too much for her to take… at that moment.”

The figure smiled and snapped a finger. The scenery changed. The figure is standing in a totally different room. This one was well lit and seemed transparent, as if the floor, walls, and even the ceiling were screens themselves.

I thought I knew what it took to be a champion. I really did. A week ago I would have explained that in order to be a champion you had to have a certain look, while projecting your image with a certain aura of pride and honor.

“You weren’t wrong, Kagura. But you were naïve. The image you’ve portrayed up to this point has been saturated in weakness. The pride and honor that you fought so hard to uphold was nothing but a façade. In the end the only thing that really matters is willpower.”

The figure watched the past version of Kagura as her memories appeared on the screens, filling the room with scenes that only the figure could see.

Even though I had lost some matches recently I was still a proud champion.

“The question was how genuine that pride must have really been.”

I was going to walk into Gold Rush with my head held high and give it my all in my quest to keep the Elite X championship. But after a chance encounter I was not so sure I had what it took.

“You didn’t. Your will was weak, but mine is not. These eyes can see what Kagura could not at the time…”

And as I stared into the sea of people as I walked down the ramp with the title in my hands I wondered if I really was the champion this title deserved.

The figure sneered, “How foolish you were, Kagura. My eyes do not deceive the past that I have seen, and you were nothing but a coward. Admit it!”

The scene flashed back to the previous room. From the way the light caught the figure’s silhouette against the shadows, anyone would have guessed the figure was a woman. She stopped and watched as another scene unfolded on the television screen.

After a bit of arguing Kagura drops exits the ring and Eve turns around right into a Coconut Strike! He hooks the leg for the cover as Kagura does nothing to break up the pin1...2…3!

Harrys: And here are your winners, Chris KO and Theron Daggershield!

Cohen: Kagura did nothing to try save her partner!

Copeland: Why would she after Eve tagged herself in?

Theron and Chris celebrate and shake hands out of a mutual sign of respect while a disappointed Kagura shakes her head at Eve and walks up the ramp leaving the former Eurasian champion once again frustrated and distraught in the ring.

The figure shook her head.

“Eve used Kagura the whole time. As a stepping stone, why were you content with this, Kagura? Of course you were. Eve Taylor betrayed you the very next week and you forgave her for it!”

The figure’s questions seemed to fall on deaf ears, as Kagura could not retort on this metaphysical plane. She flashed away and found herself in the room surrounded by screens looking at yet another memory.

Kagura smiled. She had Eve Taylor-san pegged all wrong. She had figured her to be a bossy, whiny, pampered, audacious woman that would have never had showed her any type of respect or acknowledgement. And the truth was Eve Taylor still felt that way, silently hoping that Kagura didn’t prove to be totally incompetent if teaming with her.

“And your suspicions were right, weren’t they Kagura? Eve Taylor had no real reason to treat you like an equal. You were inferior to her from the beginning. Why?”

The figure balled her fist and slammed it against the wall.

“I’ll tell you. It’s because you were too caught up in all this traditional bullshit about honor, respect, and pride to see the bigger picture. How long did it take for you to finally realize that you weren’t in Japan tending the shrine anymore?”

But since Kagura wasn’t a normal woman – meaning that she didn’t speak her language – and the fact that she knew Kagura to be quite skilled, Eve Taylor thought it would suit her interests if she simply “played nice.”

“And of course everyone around you has picked up on this since you debuted. For nearly a year you’ve hidden yourself behind the traditions and culture of your homeland. For nearly a year you’ve hidden yourself behind Sasuke. And you’ve hidden behind the language barrier.”

The figure shook her head.

“It’s little wonder why the other wrestlers hardly take you seriously. It’s the reason why you’ve been stuck, losing match after match without ever being able to move forward with yourself.”

The figure flashed back to the room with the television. She started to watch yet another match where Kagura lost. Another match where her excuse would be to hide behind honor and pride, but the figure couldn’t take it anymore.

With a primal scream she tore the television off the wall and slammed it to the ground, the monitor bursting open with a stream of sparks as it died.

“I’m done watching this garbage! No more, no more!”

Amidst the figure’s rage the dimmed light illuminated her face for a brief moment. She stopped….

“I suppose there’s no longer a need to hide it any longer.”

…And turned.

“My identity should be obvious at this point. With the many questions I’m sure to receive about how Kagura got to this point, the answers are not as important. The only thing that is important is where she’s heading next.”

The figure laughed.

“But if you are that curious, maybe this metaphysical plane can provide some satisfactory answers.”

-----​

Kenneth Banks, the owner of WZCW, was about to give a statement on the London news. The attacks in Wales were now being treated like an act of domestic terrorism, even though Banks knew that wasn’t entirely true. The reality was that it was an attack on WZCW.

To makes matters worse, foreign investigators had now pinpointed WZCW has the target of a Japanese mafia conspiracy. There was allot of confusion, and Banks wanted to set the record straight.

“I just want to say that WZCW extends its sincerest condolences for the attacks in Wales last week,” said Banks.

“Investigators aren’t quite sure of the details, Mr. Banks, but what we do know is that the attackers were foreign, and that they were targeting one of your employees.”

The interviewer had prepared some tough questions, mostly designed to get to the bottom of the mess.

“That is true,” said Banks.

“They were targeting one of WZCW’s employees. But I want to be perfectly clear when I say that this employee has no gang ties. She merely got caught up in a conspiracy against her will.”

“Tell us how she came to be involved.”

Banks hesitated. He had to choose his words carefully, for legal reasons.

“This employee stumbled upon a book that had been dropped by a researcher. Logically she was just trying to return the book to its owner. She should be commended for her acts as a Samaritan.”

The interviewer nodded.

“Be that as it may, we understand that Japanese foreign investigators have broken the conspiracy with this book. Why then would WZCW protect that employee? If not then perhaps the attacks in Wales could have been avoided.”

Banks kept his composure, but on the inside he was debating his internal philosopher.

“We at WZCW felt it was the right thing to do. The employee was nearly kidnapped in Ireland, and investigators there were forced to drop the charges. I will go on record and say that the Yakuza as denied any involvement in these incidents.”

The interviewer raised an eyebrow.

“So the acts were premeditated by a rogue sect of the Japanese mafia?”

Banks nodded.

“Correct. WZCW has no desire to cause allegations of slander for either party. But WZCW made the decision to protect our employee and her interests at all costs.”

The interviewer checked his notes.

“We understand that another employee of yours was injured last week. Apparently he was gunned down during an incident with this rogue group.”

Banks nodded again.

“Unfortunately yes, but he was treated and has undergone emergency surgery which has saved his life. He has been transferred back to the United States where he is recovering.”

“What about the employee at the center of all the controversy, what is her status?”

Banks shook his head.

“I am not at liberty to expose the exact knowledge on her current whereabouts, but she has recovered and is doing fine.”

The truth was that, as much as Banks did not want to do so, he had no choice but to suspend Kagura for the remainder of the tour. He had no idea if the rogue mafia sect were going to send someone after her again or not. She had flown home to Japan the day after the incident. He had not seen her in several days.

He and the interviewer talked a little more about the legal litigations between WZCW and the Japanese mafia, or what Banks would discuss. Then they talked about foreign media sources linking the stories together and their credibility, before Banks concluded the interview.

This was actually one of several interviews that he’s had to do over this incident in the last few days. With the Lethal Lottery looming the last thing he needed was some conspiracy threatening his promotions second biggest pay per view. Because his and all of his employees livelihoods, including Kagura’s and Sasuke’s, depended on the Lottery’s success, which was why he’d do his best to save his company as much face as possible. It was his job as the boss after all.

“Take me back to the arena,” Banks said to his driver once he got into his car.

He still had quite a bit of paperwork to do, and all of this legal nonsense was giving him a headache.

-----​

It was mid afternoon by the time Kenneth Banks made it back to Wembly Stadium. His analyses were projecting a record gate for the Lottery this year, which made him quite happy. Maybe lining his pockets with some extra cash would allow him to forget all about this foreign legal crap that had suddenly filled his lap as of late. There was always a risk when employing foreign wrestlers, but he never thought he’d find himself in this sort of trouble.

Kagura was a good girl. She was just caught up in scenario that she couldn’t control.

‘Perhaps this was something that was destined to happen to her,’ he mused.

But he quickly pushed those thoughts out of his head. He greeted his secretary, but found it strange when she wasn’t there to greet him back.

‘She must have stepped out for coffee,’ he dismissively thought.

He grabbed the handle of his office, turned it, and stepped inside. He flipped the switch near the door to turn on the lights when a voice greeted him.

“I like this office better than your last one. It’s bigger.”

Banks jumped.

“Who are you, how did you get in here?”

His chair turned. His eyes widened.

“No way…” he pointed at the figure in his chair.

“You shouldn’t be here...”

The figure laughed. It was a hollow laugh that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

“…Kagura.”

The shrine maiden put her feet up on his desk in an arrogant, mocking fashion.

“The one and only,” she smiled.

“I’m here to discuss some business, more specifically, about my suspension.”

Banks shook his head, “Your suspension that requires you to be about 6,000 miles east of here until this whole mess with the Yakuza is dealt with?”

“Yeah, there’s nothing to discuss.”

Kagura chuckled, “Except the manner has already been dealt with. Or did you not catch the national news this morning?”

Banks folded his arms, “No, I did not. I was at a press conference on the London news where I was busy trying to clean up your mess.”

And then he stopped. And then he starred at the girl in front of him. She stared back, giving him a smug grin in process. He blinked…

“Are you speaking English, Kagura? Fluent English?”

She shot him a deadpan look.

“Well we certainly aren’t having this conversation in Japanese, since you can’t speak it.”

“And you can’t speak English, so why…”

He sunk into the guest chair, before his mind quickly recovered.

“Why am I sitting here? That’s my chair. Get up off of it, dammit!”

Banks motioned for Kagura to move, which she happily obliged. She moved around and plopped down into the guest chair.

“I’ve been through some changes. And speaking English was something that Kagura never learned how to do completely, so I rectified that. It was holding her back.”

When she said ‘changes,’ she wasn’t exaggerating. Instead of her normal shrine maiden attire like she would have normally worn, she was dressed in casual clothes. Shorts, a dress shirt, a stylish jacket, and high heels… it’s like she had stolen an outfit out of Eve Taylor’s modeling catalog. Even her hair was styled a little differently.

“How…”

That’s all he could really say, until she pulled something out of her jacket pocket. She held it up in front of him so that he could see what it was, before she dropped it down on the desk.

“Is that?”

She nodded, “Correct. It’s the book those mafia bastards stole from me.”

He leaned back into his chair, “Don’t tell me that this nonsense isn’t over, if they come after you again…”

Kagura held up her hand, “That won’t be happening. Like I said, it’s over. I could sit here and bore you with the details, like how I dueled the bitch that stole my clairvoyance, and vanquished her over ownership of the book here. Apparently I was this things master since St. Louis. Imagine that.”

Banks shook his head, “I’m lost actually…”

His phone rang. He stared at it, and Kagura stared at him staring at it.

“You should probably take that,” she said.

Banks picked it up and answered it, “Hello?”

His jaw dropped a little when the voice on the other side starting chatting away, verifying a story that he had just heard seconds before.

“They did, did they? So we can be sure that all this Yakuza mess is over right? Thank goodness…”

Kagura watched him do a double take, “How did I hear about it? Kagura told me... listen I’ll call you back; I’m with someone discussing some business.”

Banks hung up the phone, and the room suddenly got a little quiet.

“So,” he asked.

“Are you going to explain to me exactly what the hell happened in Japan this past week?”

Kagura smiled gleefully, “Certainly…”

“Long story short when the news about the museum conspiracy broke, it caused a power shift within the Yakuza that caused the sect that had been giving Kagura and WZCW so much grief to be ousted. I’m sure your legal team has received cease and desist letters from the Yakuza, with them denying all involvement. With the scandal the Tokyo museum lost their claim to exhibit the book…”

She gestured to the artifact on the desk.

“… So that means that the Yakuza is on our side now; at least legally. The group that attacked Kagura won’t be able to act anymore. And the Tokyo museum can no longer claim ownership of the book, so she’s free to take it wherever.”

Banks sighed, “So all it took to stop this was an internal power struggle?”

“Basically, yes.”

“But there is something that I don’t understand, if the Yakuza wanted that book and were willing to go to such lengths to get it, why have they changed their minds?”

“That was my question too,” said Kagura.

“What was explained to me is that only that one group wanted the book, the larger sects made the decision that the book rightfully belongs the museum, but since they defaulted on their loans and can no longer afford the exhibit, the Ise Jingu shrine claimed ownership, which is why Kagura now owns the book physically, mentally, spiritually, and most importantly legally.”

Kagura placed her feet back on top of Banks desk, much to his annoyance.

“So now that our little problem has been taken care of, can we please get back to discussing the matter of my suspension?”

Banks relented, “Fine, you’ve got the floor. Since I agreed to reinstate you once the mess was sorted out, and I believe it has, remind me again why I should?”

“If reinstated early, what would Kagura bring to the table?”

She grinned, took her feet off the desk, leaned forward and stared Banks right in the eyes.

“I’ll bring with me a fierceness that no other competitor has. Do you want to see aggressiveness, Banks? How about a willingness to do whatever it takes to win? How about pride in the fact that when I throw everyone else over the top rope I’ll go on to face the world champion at Kingdom Come?”

Kagura stood.

“The other wrestlers have never seen this Kagura before. It’s impossible for them to even prepare for me. And it would be a sin for you to deprive my doomed competition and the rowdy fans who would love to see me kick some ass of that.”

He smiled, “I suppose it would. Alright, I’ll reinstate you. Your suspension is lifted.”

Kagura laughed, “Kagura would have said something lame like ‘You won’t regret this’ or ‘thank you for the opportunity,’ in the past, but I had already foreseen your answer since the beginning. That’s why I knew you wouldn’t throw me out of your office at first sight.”

She moved towards the door, “Now if you’ll excuse me. I have some training to do.”

-----​

We are back in the dark room, illuminated by that dim bulb. Kagura, the overseer, has allowed but the faintest of glimpses into her past.

“Does that slake your curiosity, Kagura?”

The woman asked.

“This is me talking to you from inside your psyche, reminding you that you were the one that chose this path. I am not a voice inside your head. I am not a figment of your imagination. I am simply Kagura. I am simply nothing more and nothing less.”

The woman smiled, “Now it’s time, for you to wake up…”

Her words echoed…

“Wake up…”

Like thunder in the distance…

“Wake up…”

Getting louder and louder until they rang like a cacophony…

“Wake up!”

………………..

A pair of hazel eyes snapped open, their vision blurred thanks to coming down off the trance of a vision. Gone is the room with the dimmed light bulb. But what remained was the eerie laughter. Slightly deranged was more like it.

“I’m awake.”

………………..

Kagura stood.

“The Lethal Lottery is upon me once again. Only this time I plan to show no one any mercy.”

Kagura stared down at the book in her hands.

“This artifact of great power has allowed me to realize my greatest potential. Gone are my weaknesses. Gone are my incompatibilities. Gone is my tradition. I have realized the perfect “me” that I was destined to become.”

Her maniacal laughter filled the hall.

“The only thing I seek is glory, but not through compassion, but through conquest…”

“…The aspects of all my mercy and pity have been sealed away forever and it created darker and more aggressive aspects in their place.”

Kagura placed the book down on a table as the pages moved to show where she had performed the ritual. And once that decision had been made, the only place left to go was forward, as her past was sealed away forever, crushing anyone unlucky enough to get in her way.

 

[Showtime]

Noah Ryder wakes up the morning of Lethal Lottery and does his usual morning routine of stretches and shadow boxing. He takes a shower and then leaves his bedroom and heads to the kitchen. Steven sits there reading the paper with a cup of coffee. Noah cracks two eggs in a pan and puts some bread in the toaster.

Ryder: Ah, what a glorious day to be debuting in WZCW. I can't wait.

Steven nods his head while continuing to read the paper. He spots a great sale on faberge eggs. He looks at Noah, who has his back turned to him, and grabs his chloroform. Like a ninja, he goes behind him and knocks Noah unconscious. Steven grabs the keys off the counter and heads out.

-----

Ah, what a glorious day to be debuting in WZCW. I can't wait.

Steven nods his head while continuing to read the paper. He spots a great sale on faberge eggs. He looks at Noah, who has his back turned to him, and grabs his chloroform, but the bottle is empty.

Steven: Dang!

What?

Nothing.

Steven looks around the room and spots a baseball bat. He walks over and picks it up slowly, studying it. He walks up behind Noah and clocks him in the back of the head, knocking him unconscious. Steven grabs the keys off the counter and heads out.

-----

Dang!

What?

Nothing.

Steven looks around the room and doesn't see any blunt objects. He heads over to the bathroom and finds a package of sleeping pills. He takes the remaining 6 pills and heads back to the kitchen. Without Noah looking, he drops all 6 into his orange juice. Noah sits down beside Steven and starts eating his food, taking sips of his juice here and there. A few minutes later, Noah falls over the counter asleep. Steven lowers his paper with a smile and helps himself to the remainder of Noah's breakfast.

-----

Steven looks around the room and doesn't see any blunt objects. He heads over to the bathroom and doesn't find any sleep aids. Steven leaves the bathroom, saddened, when an idea pops into his head.

Hey Leonard, can you show me how to apply a sleeper hold on someone.

Sure.

Noah plates his breakfast and stands behind Steven in the living room, and gives Steven the basic run down on how to apply a sleeper hold.

Sweet, can I try it on you?

Uh, sure. Why not.

Noah lets go for Steven turns his back to him. Steven slowly makes sure his arms are in place and then suddenly locks them in very tightly.

That's good... now... let go... Steven?

Steven doesn't and the two struggle to gain the upper hand. Noah tries to buck Steven off him, can't get him off his back. Slowly Noah begins to lose consciousness and drops down to the floor. Steven rolls over onto his back, equally exhausted, and he passes out.

-----

Noah lets go of Steven turns his back to him. Steven slowly makes sure his arms are in place and then suddenly locks them in very tightly.

That's good... now... let go... Steven?

Steven doesn't and the two struggle to gain the upper hand. Noah lowers himself down and surprises Steven by flipping him over onto the floor.

Fucker. You better not try that again.

Noah helps Steven up to his feet and heads over to eat his breakfast. Steven reaches back to rub his sore back and he feels something coming out of his back pocket. He reaches down and pulls out a gold pocket watch. Steven has a smile on his face and sits across from Noah in the kitchen.

Hey Leonard, look at this.

Noah looks up and Steven swings the pocket watch back and forth like a pendulum.

You're getting sleepy. You're getting very, very, sleepy. Sleepy. Sleepy.

Magically, Noah's eyes begin to close and his head slowly drops as he falls into a deep, deep sleep.

I can't believe that worked!

-----

Noah helps Steven up to his feet and heads over to eat his breakfast. Steven reaches back to rub his sore back and he feels something coming out of his back pocket. He reaches down and pulls out a gold pocket watch. Steven has a smile on his face as he opens of the pocket watch. A frown replaces the slime.

Crap. The sale is over already.

Steven goes and sits down beside Noah, who quickly scarfs down the rest of his breakfast.

Ahh, delicious. Ready to go make it happen?

I guess so.

Noah rubs Stevens head and goes to grab his bags. Steven grabs the keys and waits by the door. Noah meets him there and the two walk down the hall and wait for the elevator. The door opens and they both walk in and Steven presses the main floor button. The sound of cable snapping is heard and the elevator goes crashing down.

-----

Noah rubs Stevens head and goes to grab his bags. Steven grabs the keys and waits by the door. Noah meets him there and the two walk down the hall and wait for the elevator.

Let's take the stairs.

Noah jogs over towards the stairs. Steven sighs and follows his friend. Steven gets to the bottom of the stairs and sees Noah waiting outside for him. Steven opens up the doors and Noah is suddenly hit in the heat with a large air conditioner. A voice calls down to them.

Heads up.

Steven looks down at Noah unconscious.

That was random.

-----

Let's take the stairs.

Noah jogs over towards the stairs. Steven sighs and follows his friend. Steven gets to the bottom of the stairs and sees Noah waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs. The two open the doors to the outside and a large air conditioner crashes down in front of them.

Heads up.

That was close.

The two side step the air conditioner and head over to Steven's car.

New car?

Yeah, it's pretty sweet.

Noah puts his bag in the trunk and they both enter the car. Steven turns on the ignition. He backs the car up and goes to leave the parking lot, but 2 cars suddenly roll up and block his way out.

Uh oh.

4 men step out of the cars, 2 of them holding baseball bats. One man points at Steven.

There's that scumbag that stole my money. Get him.

The two men smash the windshield of Steven's new car. They pull Noah and Steven out of the vehicle and punch them in the face, knocking both of them out.

-----

The two side step the air conditioner and head over to Steven's car. Noah puts his bag in the trunk and they both enter the car. Steven turns on the ignition.

Hey, the check engine light is on.

I wonder what could be wrong.

Steven puts the car in drive and it suddenly explodes into a huge ball of fire.

-----

Noah puts his bag in the trunk and they both enter the car. Steven turns on the ignition.

Hey, the check engine light is on.

It's probably my brakes. I think they need to be replaced.

Steven puts the car in drive and heads out of the parking lot. He drives down the street and the light turns red in front of him. Steven hits the brakes, but the care doesn't slow down at all. Steven panics and steers around the car in front of him. They drive into the intersection, where a semi blows right into them.

-----

Hey, the check engine light is on.

I bet you it's a burned out turn light. Nothing to worry about.

Steven puts the car in drive and heads out of the parking lot. Steven is zig zagging through traffic, making good time, when suddenly a traffic cop puts on his siren and pulls them over. A burly looking cop approaches them.

Cop: Licence and registration

Steven hands the cop the information.

Do you know how fast you were going?

65?

63

Isn't the speed limit 65?.

Yes, it is.

The cop hands the license to his partner who runs it in the computer. He then shows the main cop it's findings.

Sir, I'm going to need you to step out of the vehicle.

Steven steps out of the vehicle.

You're under arrest for unpaid parking tickets.

Officer please, I'd be happy to pay you.

Are you trying to bribe me?

What? No.

Taser him.

The cops partner tasers him. Noah hops out of the vehicle.

Whoa, officer please. This is a big misunderstanding.

Boy, what the hell type of music is that?

It's The Kongos. From South Africa.

South African huh... Put your hands behind your head and down on the ground! Now!

The officers pull out their guns and Noah slowly goes down to the ground. The partner cuffs him as the main cop pulls out a big bag of mariijunia.

You're under arrest for possession.

This is bullshit.

And resisting arrest.

The cop punches Noah in the back of the head, knocking him out.

-----

Hey, the check engine light is on.

Maybe I should get that checked.

Steven puts the car in drive and heads out of the parking lot. He heads down the street and turns into the first auto shop he sees. A nice old man greets them and is able to take their vehicle in right away. Noah and Steven wait patiently in the lobby room when the mechanic returns.

Mechanic: Well, the good news is your car is all fixed and good to go. Some wires needed to replaced. They were short circuiting and causing significant damage to your starter, which I also replaced.

That's fantastic! What do I owe.

Let's see. With parts and labor that'll be $2000.

Steven laughs, but the man is dead serious.

Up yours old man, I don't have that money and I wouldn't pay that much anyway.

Steven goes to leave, but the door is locked. He looks back to see the mechanic holding a two barrel shotgun.

Oh you'll pay sonny, one way or another.

Noah and Steven both hold their arms up in shock.

Listen, you don't want to do it this way.

The mechanic clocks Noah in the face with the barrel of the gun, showing how serious he is. Noah falls to the floor unconscious.

-----

Hey, the check engine light is on.

It's probably nothing.

Steven puts the car in drive and heads out of the parking lot. Steven is zig zagging through traffic, making good time, when smoke suddenly starts to emit from the engine.

Crap. I should've listened to that mechanic.

Steven pulls over to the side of the road as the car suddenly dies. Both men step out of the car, Steven scratching his head.

What now man?

The front axel of the car breaks, causing the car to hit the ground. The sound startles Noah, who backs into oncoming traffic and is hit by a speeding car.

-----

Steven is zig zagging through traffic, making good time, when smoke suddenly starts to emit from the engine.

Crap. I should've listened to that mechanic.

Steven pulls over to the side of the road as the car suddenly dies. The front axel of the car breaks, causing the car to hit the ground. Both men exit the vehicle and stand on the side of the road to survey the situation.

What now man?

Not sure.

We could call a tow truck.

I don't have money for that.

Hitch hike?

Noah grabs his bags from the back and the two men try to catch a ride. A black van pulls up beside them. The doors open wide and 4 men jump out throwing bags over their heads and pulling them inside before speeding off.

Oh god, we've been kidnapped.

More like adultnapped.

Whatever, please don't kill us.

Shut up and give us all your money.

We don't have any.

Da fuck.

The robbery smashes Noah in the back of the head, rendering him unconscious.

-----

We could call a tow truck.

I don't have money for that.

Hitch hike?

Noah grabs his bags from the back and the two men try to catch a ride. A black van pulls up beside them. The doors open wide and 4 men jump out throwing bags over their heads and pulling them inside before speeding off.

Oh god, we've been kidnapped.

More like adultnapped.

Whatever, please don't kill us.

Shut up and give us all your money.

We don't have any.

Da fuck.

The van pulls over to a vacant lot and they throw both men out. 29 thugs step out of the van as Noah and Steven pull off their bags.

Quite the clown car you got there.

Quite the smashed up face you are about to have.

The thugs charge at Noah one at a time every 2 minutes, give or take. Noah uses lightening quick precision to punch and kick them and then throws them over fences or walls, at which point they throw their arms up and return to the van. The last one hits the ground and Noah raise his arms in victory as his music hits. Steven opens his eyes and can't believe it.

Way to go Leonard.

Steven gives Noah a congratulatory slap on the back of the head, which knocks him out.

Come on!

-----

Noah grabs his bags from the back and the two men try to catch a ride. An old looking pickup truck pulls up beside them. Inside the truck are Super Boss Nova, Donny J, Hollywood Jameson, DK Wilton, and Jack O-Lantern.

Um, we'll catch the next one.

Yea, let's skip this one.

-----

Noah grabs his bags from the back and the two men try to catch a ride. A pickup truck pulls up and an elderly looking man pokes his head out the window.

Old man: You boys need a lift. Hope in the back.

Both men hop into the back of the truck which quickly takes off. There's a large blanket coving up the trucks cargo. Noah lifts up the blanket revealing Joshua the Baptist and the headless body of Mr. Baller.

Oh god I'm going to be sick.

Noah does get sick and then immediately passes out.

-----

Noah grabs his bags from the back and the two men try to catch a ride. After several minutes of trying while walking they are unsuccessful.

Maybe we should call a cab.

Best idea I've heard this whole RP.

Before Noah can ask, Steven pulls out his cell and calls a cab.

Hey we need to speed this up. Lets see who can hold their breath the longest.

Okay?

Both men hold their breath, after about a minute and a half Noah passes out.

I was breathing through me nose.

-----

Steven pulls out his cell and calls a cab. Within minutes a cab pulls up beside them.

Cab Driver: Where to boys?

Nearest liquor store.

Steven?

Trust me.

The cab driver takes them 2 blocks to the nearest store. Steven steps out and returns with the strongest bottle of liquor he could.

Hey, hey. Now it's a party.

Here Noah, drink this quick.

Noah downs as much as he can of the bottle before passing out.

-----

Where to boys?

The second closest liquor store.

Steven?

Trust me.

The cab driver takes them 3 blocks to the second closest store. Steven steps out and returns with the strongest bottle of liquor he could.

Hey, hey. Now it's a party.

Here Noah, drink this quick.

Noah downs as much as he can of the bottle before passing out.

-----

Where to boys?

The third closest liquor store.

Steven?

Trust me.

The cab driver takes them 4 blocks to the third closest store. Steven steps out and returns with the strongest bottle of liquor he could.

Hey, hey. Now it's a party.

Here Noah, drink this quick.

Noah downs as much as he can of the bottle before passing out.

-----

Where to boys?

The fourth closest liquor store.

Steven?

Trust me.

The cab driver takes them 5 blocks to the fourth closest store. Steven steps out and returns with the strongest bottle of liquor he could.

Hey, hey. Now it's a party.

Here Noah, drink this quick.

Noah downs as much as he can of the bottle before passing out.

-----

Where to boys?

The fifth closest liquor store.

Steven?

Trust me.

The cab driver takes them 6 blocks to the fifth closest store. Steven steps out and returns with the strongest bottle of liquor he could.

Hey, hey. Now it's a party.

Here Noah, drink this quick.

Noah downs as much as he can of the bottle before passing out.

-----

Where to boys?

Wembley Stadium.

The cab driver turns on his meter and heads down the road. Steven whispers to Noah.

When we get close, open your door and tuck and roll.

What? No, just pay the man.

My car just broke down, lets just try and salvage some money today.

Noah nods his head and waits for Stevens cue. Steven opens his door and jumps and Noah does the same... straight off a bridge and into a river.

-----

The cab driver turns on his meter and heads down the road. In no time at all they arrive at Wembley Stadium. Noah pays the driver and steps out of the vehicle. Suddenly without warning, a lightning bolt strikes him down and unconscious.

What are the odds.

-----

The cab driver turns on his meter and heads down the road. In no time at all they arrive at Wembley Stadium. Noah pays the driver and steps out of the vehicle. Suddenly without warning, a lightning bolt strikes down mere feet in front on Noah.

Jesus Christ.

Whoa. Well the good thing about lightning is it doesn't strike the same place twice.

Noah nods his head and steps forward, a second bolt of lightning strikes down at the same spot, hitting Noah. He drops down to the ground.

Again, what are the odds.

----

Noah pays the driver and steps out of the vehicle. He looks ahead at the stadium and walks towards it. Steven pats Noah on the back and smiles.

We made it! Your long journey to WZCW and Lethal Lottery is over. I'm proud of you man, you're going to do great.

Thanks, I hope so.

They get to the performers entrance and sign in. Steven hands Noah his bag and hugs him.

Good luck tonight man. I'll see you later on. I have to see a man about a faberge egg.

Steven walks off before Noah can ask anything further. He takes his bag and heads to the locker room to get changed. Noah steps out of the locker room and is ready to compete. He takes a left down the hallway and bumps into Becky Serra.

Serra: Noah Ryder, I'm glad to see you.

I'm happy to be here too Becky.

You can address me as Ms. Serra.

Ms. Serra, sounds very professional. Someone's trying to get a promotion. I'm excited to finally step into the ring in WZCW and show everyone what I can do here.

Yes, everyone's first Lethal Lottery is quite exciting.

First Lethal Lottery. First match here. First opportunity face many WZCW wrestlers. And then first Kingdom Come.

Yes Wembley Stadium is quite exciting the first time. Listen Noah...

I'm sorry Ms. Serra, are we doing an interview now or is there anything you'd like to ask me.

What?

I mean, I know people have commented more on your looks than your mic skills or knowledge, but you've always been one of my favourite interviewers. I just want to make sure we got this right the first time so we both come off looking good. It's my first time, as you know.

Yes, we've covered that. No, I am not interviewing you at all. I just wanted to present you with your Lethal Lottery number.

Number picker, pretty suit job.

Becky hands Noah a ball containing a number. Noah cracks open the ball and looks at it with a smile.

Awesome. Thank you so much. I'm going to knock it out here tonight.

Noah walks by Becky, who shakes her head at him as he passes.

-----

Noah steps out of the locker room and is ready to compete. He takes a right down the hallway and bumps into Leon Kensworth.

Leon! It's nice to finally see you, I'm Noah Ryder.

Yes Noah, hi. Good to see you. Did you have rough time getting here?

You have no idea.

Something tells me you probably don't either.

Leon laughs while Noah remains blank faced.

Well Noah, I guess you found me wanting to do an interview with you.

Oh my god. Leon, yes. I'm so looking forward to this.

Ok in 3... 2... 1... Good evening ladies and gentlemen. Leon Kensworth here and to my right, we haven of WZCW's most exciting and entertaining wrestlers, Noah Ryder. Noah, how are you feeling today?

Leon first of all thank you so much for that warm welcome. I know many people don't know who Noah Ryder is, but after tonight I'm sure everyone is going to be talking about me. I'm very excited about getting the chance to compete here tonight, in front of all the wonderful fans, in one of the biggest and most important matches in WZCW, the Lethal Lottery.

Noah, what do you think are some of the advantages that you'll have tonight.

I think the number one advantage that I'll have is that a lot of people will be overlooking me. Not many people know who I am and what I can do inside the ring. I'm a very well rounded wrestler. I can brawl and strike with the best of them. I'm quick on my feet and I have the strength to put just about anyone over the top rope. A lot of people are going to be surprised by me and I will use that as much as I can to help me do well.

What is you biggest goal in this match?

To win, of course. Haha, look I know how good some of my opponents are, Holmes, Callahan, Rush, Smith, all great wrestlers and all very likely to win. Everyone here has a chance to win. Triple X was just like me, a very raw rookie and he had a good showing and the next week he received an Elite X title match. That's my biggest and most realistic goal. It's not to eliminate the most people, or last the longest, all great goals that I am also shooting for, but my biggest goal is to do well and show that I belong in WZCW. I think I can do it.

I think you already have. Noah thank you so much for this interview.

No Leon, thank you.

Noah hugs and unsuspecting Leon, who slowly returns the hug back.

-----

Noah steps out of the locker room and is ready to compete. He walks straight ahead and spots Stacey Madison down the hallway.

Hey Miss Madison.

Madison: Oh no, I'm not dealing with you.

Stacey books it down the hall in high heels, stumbling along the way.

Miss Madison! Stacey. Wait up.

Noah turns a corner to follow her, but can't see her anymore. Noah looks around and shrugs his shoulders.

Must've been something she swallowed.

Klamor: Mr. Ryder.

Noah turns around and sees Johnny Klamor.

Mr. Klamor. It's nice to finally meet.

It is nice indeed. Mr. Ryder, I wanted to ask you a few questions, if you don't mind.

Not at all.

Alright, first question, who the hell do you think you are?

I'm not sure how to answer that. My real name is Leonard Nolan, but I go by Noah Ryder in the ring.

I know that, but I mean, do you even know who you are.

I think I just told.

I mean, do you know the things that you have already done in WZCW?

Am I the first Minnesotan?

No, I mean that you have competed several times in WZCW already. How you've beaten Matt Tastic and Titus already? How you came within one pinball from becoming Elite-X Champion?

Hahaha, Johnny you're hilarious. I'm sorry for that, look those are all great accomplishments and I hope that I can do all that, in fact I know I can and tonight in the Lethal Lottery I have to opportunity to do that and more. Trust me, people are going to be talking about me soon enough. Thanks for the pep talk Mr. Klamor. I think after tonight you should go on a nice vacation. You... deserve it.

Noah walks away. Klamor tries to ask him more questions, but he instead bombs into a few other wrestlers walking down the hall towards him.

-----

Noah steps out of the locker room and is ready to compete. He hears the noise of the audience and walks towards it. The crowd is chanting and clapping as Noah stands behind the curtain waiting for his turn to enter the ring.

This is it. Your big moment. Don't blink, or you might miss it.

The buzzer sounds and Noah's music hits as he steps through the curtain.

 

[John McCass]

Cassanova had lost. Once again at Ascension 97. To whom he lost was none other than Kagura Ozhora. Since his debut in WZCW, he had suffered nothing but losses. Though, this wasn’t the first time he had lost things in his life but, this sure was something he would forever regret. Even defeating Kagura seemed to be an uphill task for him.

The next step in his wrestling career was the Lethal Lottery match. A match where he had 29 big hurdles to cross. This match meant allot for his career. This match ensured his one step closer to the ultimate destiny a wrestler seeks for. But, this wasn’t Cassanova’s destiny. He had something else in his mind for which he was fighting. He was fighting people that he had never dreamed of in his life.

-------------------​

Moments before Lethal Lottery 2015

The camera feed started in Cassanova’s locker. “Still worth fighting for” is playing in the background. Cassanova laid asleep on his bed.

“So hard to let go
And I still hear the sound
Of your voice singin’ in my head”

A scene flashes of Cassanova tapping out to Kagura Ohzora at Ascension 97.

“I can’t surrender
‘Cause the rope’s slowly coming apart
But hangin’ by a thread”

A cute little child is being reprimanded by parents.

“It’s gone on
For too long
And this is it”

The scene flashes all the defeats Cassanova had suffered at WZCW.

“So take a look into my eyes one last time
So we never forget
The way we were before
When we came alive at the moment we met
This is still worth fighting
Still worth fighting for”

Another scene comes up showing the third count Cassanova got on Prince.

“A glass that’s half empty
Won’t wash away the mistakes
It only makes a mess
It’s worth defending
A tiny glimpse of what it would take
To make us better yet”

A school child is fleeing away with teary eyes.

“It’s gone on
For too long
And this is it”

That same child is now being ordered to leave his home.

“So take a look into my eyes one last time
So we never forget
The way we were before
When we came alive at the moment we met
This is still worth fighting for
A love that wants to live
I’ll give you all I’ve got to give
So let’s try one last time
So we never forget
This is still worth fighting
Still worth fighting for”

Previous Lethal Lottery winners are seen beaming with pleasure.

“Now that we know just who we are
Now that we’ve finally come this far
I’m ready for one more battle scar
‘Cause this is still worth fighting for”

Lethal Lottery 2015 poster is seen featuring Numerous WZCW stars. Cassanova’s picture is blinking.

“So take a look into my eyes one last time
So we never forget the way we were before
When we came alive at the moment we met
This is still worth fighting for
A love that wants to live
I’ll give you all I’ve got to give
So let’s try one last time
So we never forget
This is still worth fighting for
(I’m ready for one more battle scar)
This is still worth fighting for
(I’m ready for one more battle scar)
This is still worth fighting
We’re still worth fighting for”

Cassanova is awake with his eyes brimming with confidence. He is ready for one more battle.

Fade to black.

Cassanova was skipping backstage as Leon Kensworth spotted him and thought to have some words prior to the Lethal Lottery match. Surprisingly, he didn’t have the book in his hand at that time.

Kensworth: May I know what’s up your mind, The Bookworm?

Cassanova: Sure, but why would you like to interview me, of all people.

Kensworth: I ain’t dismissive about you, Cass. I understand why you have been on a losing streak.

Cassanova: NO, you can’t feel how bad it feels when you lose every time you step in the ring. You are a backstage interviewer who can just provoke people.

Kensworth: I should have better not interviewed you.

Cassanova: I didn’t ask you to.

Kensworth stared at Cassanova. He reluctantly set up the camera.

Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome my guest at this time, ”The Bookworm” Cassanova.

The camera shows an arrogant Cassanova.

Kensworth: Cassanova, you had been on a losing streak lately and now you’re about to step in the Lethal Lottery match. What may we expect of you?

Cassanova: Streaks are meant to be broken, be it losing streak, be it winning streak.

Kensworth: What does Cassanova have in store for 29 of his opponents tonight?

Cassanova: Punches, kicks and finally they will be locked in the book.

“BOOK! Where’s the book?” wondered Kensworth.

Kensworth: Where’s your book, Cass?

Cassanova: Some things better remain mystery.

Cassanova ascended as Kensworth looked puzzled.

 

[Richard Blonoff]

Deep, deep (and I’m talking way deep) inside your mind there’s this ticking. Everyone goes through it you know? Ninety nine percent of the time it doesn’t even bother you, goes unnotice. But that other one percent? It could drive a man to the brink of insanity. It’s like a fucking grandfather clock constantly going. Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock.

I hate it. Like a lot. And sometimes you can’t figure out what would drive this to happen yet deep down if you look hard enough, the answer is clear as day. Mine is pretty simple really. I didn’t need to go on a cleanse, I didn’t need to find myself, it was just there. I really wanted a cheeseburger.

I’ll let that sink in for a minute.

I can see the look on your face and you clearly think I’m out of my mind. And I am, you know me by now. I did want a cheeseburger, but I’m just fucking with you right now. It was a damn good burger, let me tell you that Ace. Damn good. I wanted to lace ‘em up. This isn’t the first time it has happened since I stepped away. It comes and goes, but never this bad. I just can’t stop thinking about punching someone in the face. Maybe I’m just stressed cause we have another kid on the way. Oh in case you care, Emily and I are back together. It was a lot of work on my behalf, but she is an amazing person. Sorry, I’ll refrain from getting gushy, but that makeup sex though. Let me tell you.

*Due to the context of this paragraph, it has been removed. Incredibly inappropriate.*

Pretty cool eh? I also stopped drinking. You know, cause of the kid. If Em can’t get her glass of wine, neither can this guy. It’s tough. I try to sneak one it, but I swear she is always watching me. I feel like that guy that the internet wanted to play Batman that one time who is in that TV show where they have cameras all around. What’s his name? This is really gonna bother me man.

Anyways. I have her full consent on going back into the ring and I keep getting feelers from other organizations and the Indy market, but none feel right. Though I’d love to reunite with the Facial Faction, but they don’t seem to still be going. The Facial Faction you ask puzzling. It was my old Indy group with me, Mr. Mustache, Sammy Sideburns, Go Tee (he was Asian), and our manager “The Soul” Patch. Fun times. Like I was saying, I only want back if you guys want me back. I know we haven’t always seen eye to eye, but I’m a new man now. I’m ready to be what is best for business. I’m ready to have fun again. Sure I can be the big bad beard, but why can’t I do that and be that lovable bastard that I was back in the day. Now before you go and start booking me into these big time feuds with Mikey, Killjoy, Cerebus, Constantine, and what not. Jim Caviezel, that’s his name. Man I’m glad that is out of the way. Was that bothering you as much as it was me? I’m sure it was. If not, you should’ve fucking said something man.

This isn’t definite yet. I just want to punch some faces, butt some heads, and kick some ass. And what better way than Lethal Lottery to do that. I have the chance to hit pretty much anyone and everyone. My kind of throwdown. Obviously if I win I’m not gonna jiggity-jag you guys like I did last time. I’ll hang around. I’ll clang and bang and rough up the boys (and girls). Not in the way that sounds though. Let me rephrase I’ll kick boys asses and the girls sasses.

Beard sits back in his chair and flings his pen at his computer screen. He bites his lip as he bounces his head from side to side. A knock on his door releases him from his trance.

Babe, Claire is back from my mom’s.

A smile comes across Beard’s face, hearing his wife’s voice and knowing his little girl is home. She storms into the office, eyes beaming, face glowing as she jumps into his arms.

CLAIRE BEAR!!!

Beard screams at his little girl as she giggles and tugs at her dad’s beard. He leaps from his chair and spins her around before kissing her forehead and setting her down. She trails off back into the other room.

She’s a trip.

She must get that from you.

[Beard looks at his wife, questioning her remark before letting out a laugh.

Probably.

Definitely.

Beard plops back into his chair, before looking at his letter. Emily walks over and puts her arms around his neck.

Is that it?

Yup.

You sure you are ready for this?

Yeah.

That doesn’t sound very convincing. They will try to exploit you.

Last time they tried to exploit me, I walked off with their championship. We’ve turned a corner. I’m accepting of them as they are me. No unfinished business left behind. Just me turning a new leaf and starting fresh. I just wanna have fun.

Then go have fun. And remember, I love you.

I love you too.

Emily walks out as she kisses Beard on the cheek. He lifts his pen and goes back to his letter.

Come Lethal Lottery I will be back. Let the crowd see that I am the man they want me to be. Let them chant my name. Let them chant “Fear the Beard”. Through them it will put the wrestling world on notice that the Beard is back and he is bigger, badder, and more fun than ever. I look forward to hearing back from you soon. Let the Beard rock Wembley like the Beatles rocked America. Cya soon friends.

Love always,

-The Beard-

 

[Richard Blonoff]

“Those were the good ol’ days.....”

There sat Gino Galucci, Tony Galucci, and Marco Galucci around the round table, each brother sipping on a bottle of Corona. Tony, the oldest Galucci child, a rotund but husky man, pointed towards a picture on the wall. The picture is of a man, not too tall but not too short either, you just knew that he was a good man by the smile he wore on his face. Marco, the second oldest Galucci child, downed his newly opened bottle of Corona in almost just one gulp. Gino Galucci, the youngest Galucci child, sat there smiling at his brothers because he knew that this may be one of the last times he could spend time with his dear brothers.

“Dad was a hell of a man huh? I mean, he definitely was since he put up with the three of us. We were crazy back then. Mom was great too, she kept up with us AND dad.”

The Galucci brothers share a laugh. The memories of their parents are still present years after they have passed on. Mister and Missus Galucci definitely were great people but what was even greater was what they left their children: the entire pizzeria franchise. The pizzeria, “Galucci’s” has been a staple in Hell’s Kitchen, New York and continues to branch out in the United States. They were right in their hometown of Hell’s Kitchen where the first “Galucci’s” opened up. Every “Galucci’s” bore the logo, or well, the Galucci family symbol. Which in essence, was basically a really nice looking letter G with the rest of –alucci spelled in cursive and of course with a pizza on it.

“But hey, let’s address the elephant in the room shall we? This is it little brother. Your new journey is about to begin. You’re really leaving me with this goofball?”

Tony then crumples up a napkin and chucks it towards Marco after that statement. Gino thought this day would never come. He tried many things before finally deciding to sign with the biggest wrestling company this side of the United States, WZCW.

"You mean this goofball that keeps your sorry butt from trouble?"

"Yeah yeah, whatever."

“It’s not like I can’t ever visit you guys, you know. I just won’t be around as often. Plus, as much as I love pizza, and you guys know I do, it’s time to branch out. Time to share my love of pizza with the rest of the world. I mean, c’mon, pizza and wrestling? Is there a better combination than that?”

When he was young, Gino was a very active person. In high school, he was part of the basketball and baseball team while running for the track team as well. In college, he abandoned those sports and focused on wrestling. Not only that, but he furthered his skills and got into boxing because when grounding your opponent doesn’t work, might as well punch ‘em to knock them down right?

“It’s not like I’m worried about you Gino – but you were never the type to go for it as much as it pains me to say it. Yes, you were all over the place when it came to sports, but you never really went all the way. I’m not trying to put you down little brother, I’m just saying that WZCW is a whole new kind of beast. You have mad scientists, hall of famers, religious zealots, and whatever the hell else kind of characters that asylum houses.”

“You’re right Marco, but that’s exactly what attracts me to WZCW – the whole bunch of characters that places houses. It’s a challenge that I want, it’s a challenge that I need. I need this brothers. If any of you were me, you’d be chomping at the bits at this opportunity I have. It’s the type of things you’d do – it’s the type of thing that would’ve wanted me to do.”

The mention of their dad causes a bit of silence from the Galucci brothers. But nevertheless, they knew their little brother was right. They knew that once Gino put his mind to something and gave it his all, that it would work out for the best. Despite WZCW being the land of the unknown, well, that’s just the kind of calling Gino needed.

“Besides, I’m sure you guys wouldn’t want me laying around doing nothing right? Even if I am the best cook here.”

“One more time?”

The brotherly bickering begins.

“You heard what I said. It was me who made those pizzas that are in the oven right now waiting to be delivered to some party.”

“Honestly, me and Tony were just being lazy. Plus, it’s your last night here, so you might as well be doing something productive for once.”

Tony smirks and Gino follows this by folding his hands in the “whatever” position. However, little did they know, a million thoughts have been on Gino’s mind since he got the call from Mr. Banks that he is indeed going to be making his debut at one of WZCW’s biggest pay-per-views, the Lethal Lottery. Gino knew that it was going to be tough to debut but to debut at a spectacular event like Lethal Lottery, there’s just a million things that can and will go wrong. The past few days haven’t been easy for Gino as these thoughts nearly consumed him but you couldn’t tell by the way Gino acted as he was his own bubbly self – making pizzas, cracking jokes, just flashing a smile when deep down, he was nervous as hell for his debut.

DING!

Saved by the bell. Marco and Tony stood from their chairs but were halted by Gino. Instead of speaking, Gino made his way to the kitchen and began boxing the pizzas, getting them ready for delivery.

“Guys, I got this.”

---

DIIIIIINNNGGG DOOOONNNGGGGG!

Gino must’ve been ringing the bell for nearly five minutes but no one came to the door. But who could blame them? If Gino was in that house right now, he wouldn’t hear a thing with the music blaring through the speakers at this volume. Instead, Gino opened the door, which was unsurprisingly unlocked, which begs the question of why he didn’t just open the door earlier. The payment was made in advance anyway. Gino placed the boxes of pizza on a table and was making his way to the exit after having to shimmy away from people dancing everywhere. But a thought came to his head. He thought that this party is exactly what he needed to loosen before his WZCW career started.

As he was making his way through the party, he spotted a beautiful creature – eyes of blue, long, dark hair that seemed so soft, some tight holed-up jeans, with a crop top of, you guessed it, a WZCW superstar – Amber Warren no less! Gino made eye contact and so did she. He instantly felt a connection as she winked at him. Before making his way to her, a bunch of party boys with kegs blocked began making their way through the house, block his view from the girl. When they disappeared, so did she.

Feeling dejected, Gino seemed to have lost hope.

“Well, that’s what you get when there are 29 other people at this party.”

There obviously was more than 29 other people at the party but you know what I mean Seeing no point in pursuing the girl, Gino began partying just like everyone. With his dance moves that were out of style yet smooth, he began garnering the interest of many people at the party – women. Gino hadn’t really noticed since he was kind of oblivious to that because of his success rate with women being at a measly one percent – okay, let’s say two percent just to make him look good. After all the dancing, Gino went over to the bar and took whatever drink was put in front of him.

Just then, he crinkled his nose. Gino knew exactly what attracted those sensors in his nose – it’s gotta be the special cheese that “Galucci’s” puts in their pizzas. He followed the smell all through the dance floor and through a sea of people. He was so oblivious to the people surrounding him that he accidentally bumped a girl who then spilled her drink on another girl. However, it seems like Gino did no real damage as that girl who got a drink spilled on her had it coming anyway. Gino then looked up and there she was, the girl from earlier, who had a piece of the pepperoni pizza in one hand as she talked to her friend.

Second guessing himself, Gino started to walk away but then he thought about WZCW. He thought about how he needed to change himself. He needed to stop second guessing himself and just go for it. At that moment, that’s exactly what he did. The youngest Galucci began making his way up the stairs and the girl instantly noticed him. With a new found confidence, Gino climbed those stairs with ease and was finally in front of the beautiful woman. She had just finished her pizza when Gino did what he thought was only seen in movies. He took the girl by the waist, dropped her midway, and planted a big fat kiss right on her lips. This went on for about a good minute or so which totally shows over the bicep strength Gino possesses.

But just like in the movies, things went from bad to good to worse then good again, maybe – depending on what movie you’re watching of course. But nonetheless, Gino found himself laying flat on the ground next to empty pizza boxes that belonged to “Galucci’s.”

“You think you can kiss my girl?”

Oh crap. Gino didn’t even think of the girl having a boyfriend. The man who threw him to the floor had to be at least 6’7 and weigh about 260 pounds but let’s not talk about the specifics. Gino looked horrified at the giant of a man towering over him. But again, Gino thought of WZCW. This was the kind of competition he would expect. Not a second longer, Gino brought the fight to the man. He grabbed a pizza box that still had at least one slice left in it and grabbed it. You probably know what he did next. He made it to his feet and slapped the guy across the face with the pizza of course!

All hell breaks loose now.

The man backed Gino into a corner with his hands around Gino’s neck but Gino still had the pizza with him. He slapped the man across the face with the pizza yet again and like what was said earlier – all hell broke loose. Everything imaginable filled the air. People were slapping each other with pizzas, throwing furniture around, glass began to shatter – the whole nine yards. Gino spotted another piece of pizza and was adamant on “finishing” off the big guy. He run towards the big guy with a full head of steam – WHACK! The big guy was knocked out from a double pizza – double axe handle. Gino had done it. He was victorious. And again, like the movies, he knew what was coming next. He made his way to the entrance and there – the beautiful woman stood. With the chaos going on behind them, it seems as if time slowed down when Gino again dropped her midway and planted another kiss on her lips. But this one wasn’t as long as the last kiss. After a few seconds, Gino let her go. In astonishment, she stood there frozen as Gino made his way out of the house and drove off in his blue Prius. But as soon as she turned around, a pepperoni pizza smashed right on her face, knocking her out.

His windows were down blaring ‘A Thousand Miles by Vanessa Carlton’ from his radio. In what has been a long time, Gino felt great. He felt at home.

“WZCW – Lethal Lottery – HERE I COME!”

 

[Richard Blonoff]

Catharsis​

A glacial wind ran rampantly across the desolate, withered playing fields of times old, rustling the brown, diluted grassland and scattering the long-deceased leaves further into the terrain of the wild draught. What had once been a prime location of cherished memories and prosperous trades was now a frigid, unforgiving wilderness, hellbent on continuing its eradication of already impaired memories. Nothing had escaped the savage, yet restrained rampage of time, whether it be the once highly arable, but now beyond withered cornfields or the architecture of the vicinity, now in a state of the purest ruination.

Yet within this wasteland of despair, there was still a minute fraction of survival; survival in the form of a slender, nomadic silhouette, casting his bleak shadow down from the craggy mountains of the region. As he tediously analysed the barren landscape, a sudden tinge of nostalgic inspiration fizzled within his being. Despite all of the obstacles and elements thrown towards him, he had emerged as the sole remnant of his violent past. The prosperous future was in reaching distance.

But there was yet one last loose end to fasten.

A loose end that would determine whether the pilgrim would embrace eternal happiness or eternal damnation.

Turning his attention to the pertinent matter of emotional life or death, he persevered towards his deciding destination, unmoved by the chill of the ubiquitous atmosphere. The nomad's brown, fatigued duster fluttered moderately from the tenacity of the gust, revealing his sturdy, kevlar body suit and tattered combat attire. Donning a hood that obscured any and all facial features, he marched diligently through the plains at a steady pace, his ascent continuing as his goal reached ever nearer. The ground beneath the wanderer became steeper and more sedimentary, whilst the air currents reached their peak of gale force.

At the summit, the nomad hoisted himself forward to find both a metaphorical and literal graveyard, both devoid of life and a tribute to the deceased. He waded cautiously through the dead-lands, with two luminous, neon lights emerging from under his hood, casting his surveillance across the cenotaphs, in search for one of specific value. Only the clarification of a certain individual's mortality would give him peace of mind.

After a short search, the nomad came across what he had been seeking.

The weight of the situation exploded within the nomad. He dropped to one knee and continued to observe the tombstone, unsure whether to commemorate or desecrate the existence of this site. What was certain was the impact it had on upon him. Paralysed in stature, his mind raced at a terminal velocity, facts and opinions at war with one another, his conscience the battlefield.

He was dead...

...Or was he?

Yet with his highly divisive discovery, one thing remained evident: He was more lost than ever. Finality was now unattainable for the nomad, as a torrent of emotion began to flood his soul, and slowly but surely, his physicality. He began to gradually clench his fists and bring them toward his veiling hood, grasping firmly onto the thin, insipid fabric. As his grip fastened, so too did the tremors, causing every facet of his body to tremble. The loose cannon was ready to fire on command.

And that command came with a deafening strike of lightning upon the grave-site mere inches away from the nomad.

Screeching deeply at the top of his lungs, the nomad tore his hood apart with ease, revealing the monster within. A complex and advanced breathing apparatus housed his face, the mask providing illumination in the form of a crimson glare emitting from high-tech goggles fixated on the device. With his cloak annihilated, the nomad set his fury upon the scorched earth of the tomb, clawing frantically at fistfuls of dirt, determined to draw an immediate conclusion to his omnipresent need. A downpour of rain replied to his bellow of anguish, drenching him and liquefying the surrounding mud onto his apparel. Yet the nomad was undeterred and only had his hell-bent demeanour towards one objective: answers.

His excavation only increased in ferocity as thunderbolts and lightning rumbled across the arid landscape. The lack of fruition only angered him more and increased his work efforts. Soon, these efforts had constructed a deep, worthless chasm, and drew the nomad no closer to salvation. Defeated, the behemoth rolled into his own grave, enervated in every sense of the word, the rain layering the cavity he had constructed. With his strength depleted, the nomad did the only thing he could muster.

In the corner of his right eye, he shed a tear. It rolled slowly down his cheek, before it fell into the abyss of water beneath him. Much time had expired since the nomad had openly wept, the indication that he had no fight left, and a conspicuous sign that his emotions were extinct.

It was exactly the catalyst he needed.

The levels of flood within the tomb were enough to carry the nomad away and drag him gently away from the source of his empathy. The sky above him had dimmed a blood red, the water around him had diluted into a putrid viridian, and within his otherwise silent mind, a constant theme pounded in his brain.

[YOUTUBE]CU64-KeCncM[/YOUTUBE]​

The nomad could do nothing. He could feel nothing. He was nothing.

He let it be.

As he flowed across the cold stream though, a wooden raft pulled up beside him, piloted by a non-imposing, yet all the same sinister figure. He donned dark robes, and appeared to be slim, middle-aged and sporting a small beard. His face encompassed impartiality as he studied the nomad floating across, possessing neither pity nor hatred towards the newest occupant of his world.

"Welcome to Stygian" he declared ruthlessly without batting an eyelid. "I am Charon, eternal wayfarer of the River Styx." He then extended his hand towards the nomad, offering solitude from the harsh surge of the waterway. The nomad instinctively grasped his hand and climbed aboard the raft, creating a slight creak, but otherwise having no effect on the transport.

"Viktor Petrov" Charon uttered, studying his occupant in great detail, before continuing. "You are most certainly a unique individual, and a unique case. For you are not truly alive...but you are not truly dead either."

Viktor stared blankly at the wayfarer, unable to provide a response to the revelation. This caused Charon to elaborate.

"Physically, you are at an unforeseen pinnacle, an unstoppable force that cannot be reckoned with. Yet this means nothing if you don't have the reinforcement of willpower, which ceases to exist. It now belongs to me. You are little more than a lich, a vessel...a zombie."

Viktor continued to bear no reaction to these events. There existed within him a lack of spark nor spirit to counter these points.

"All is not lost for you in the realm of mortality, Viktor. For whilst Viktor Petrov is dead, another side of you is very much alive and kicking. What have you christened this personality, Viktor?"

Viktor bent his head down and began to concentrate. He knew of the side Charon was referring to, but did not hold the key to unlock it. Charon saw Viktor's efforts and provided him with necessary guidance.

"I cannot answer that question for you, Viktor." he whispered vehemently "But I know who can."

All of a sudden, Charon's face began to melt away like wax, and slither down into Stygian below him. Beneath Charon's own face was another more youthful, more familiar face, that turned to Viktor and smiled slowly. This chain of events triggered Viktor to voice his opinions for the very first time through this ordeal.

"You..." he murmured drearily. "You...I know you."

The man Charon had now become nodded solemnly.

"Indeed you do, hardened combatant.
Search within you, the answer is patent."

Viktor strained himself trying to remember the man, before an epiphany dawned upon him.

"The rhyming...the wisdom...the willpower." He rasped with great effort. "The...you...you are the good doctor. The one who saved me!"

The vision before him acknowledged Viktor's answer as correct.

"Yes, I am the good Doctor Zeus.
Now, our goal is to let you loose.
If indeed purpose is what you truly lust
Join me and together our cause shall be just"

Viktor peered at Zeus with confusion and queried him with the eternal question.

"But doctor...doctor...please." he stuttered. "Who am I?"

The apparition of Zeus smiled, and activated his weapon of mass destruction.

"If name is what is required to call out.
Rise, super soldier, for your name is FALLOUT."

***​

Disasterpiece immediately attempts to help Will, Reaper and Ricky, as all four men now get Manzo shoved up against the ropes. Gus motions for the Washoe Valley Crew to help out as well, as all Seven men how take part in slowly lifting Manzo. With one final heave and shove, the seven combined men finally eliminate Manzo up and over the ropes!!!! Each man falls to the ground, trying to catch their breath.

Fallout had perched himself onto a wooden stool in the empty doctor's office, his vision firmly attached to a television screen. He had witnessed Manzo's impressive showing at the very first Lethal Lottery. And yet, Fallout knew it was only a fraction of his own capabilities. He was very much aware of his defining attributes of a super soldier, having defeated death itself on more than one occasion. He would lay waste to the Lethal Lottery, much like all of those that had failed to lay waste to him in the past. He would devastate all of those that stood in his way.

"Now I am become death, the destroyer of worlds." he purred malevolently.

 

[Richard Blonoff]

Scene opens inside a dimly lit bedroom. Thunder crackles outside as the rain creates a constant thumbing on the roof. Lightning flashes through the window, filling the room with light for brief moments. People are gathered around a large bed with medical machines beside it. A mother holds her son tightly, fighting back tears. On the bed is "Showtime" David Cougar, but not the same man we once saw in the ring. His face looks worn and tired. His hair is ragged and thinning. Wrinkles stretch across his forehead. He appears much thinner and the only sound he can muster is a horse cough. Cancer has ravaged him hard. He looks towards the women and boy and holds her hand. Around his bed are people with equally sad faces. Showtime slowly closes his eyes and is soon gone.

Cut! That's a wrap everybody.

Lights fill the setting and the people all around the bed turn and walk away, taking off their headwear and jackets. Showtime sits up and fixes the hair on his head. He rolls off the bed and pushes the wrinkles off his clothes as stage hands begin to dismantle the stage. An assistant approaches Showtime with a glass of water. Showtime removes the glasses he is wearing and takes a sip of water, chatting briefly with the cute assistant. Director Baz Luhrmann walks up to Showtime and gives him a big hug before shaking his hand.

Luhrmann: David it was a thrill working with you. I haven't worked with many people who posses your range of skills. Not many people of this generation know of the great work George M. Cohan did, or his larger than life history, but they certainly will now and I can only thank you for bringing that to the set every day.

Cougar: No, thank you for casting me over some pretty talented people. DiCaprio, Gosling, Bradley Cooper. All great actors. I'm thrilled that you chose me, and your script it was amazing. There was no way I wasn't going to play this character. I can't wait to view it after its final edit.

I'll make sure you're one of the first to know. And thank you again.

Luhrmann heads over to congratulate some of the other actors. Showtime turns back to the assistant.

So where is makeup crew? I'd like to get this all off me and return home.

Assistant: Oh, they went out to lunch. It could be another hour before they return.

Showtime throws his arms up in disbelief. He rubs his forehead and then puts a hand out.

I'm sorry, that's not your fault. You know what, I think I'm going to make the most of how I currently look.

Showtime puts back on his glasses and heads outside the studio. He gets into his car and leaves the lot, heading to the highway. Showtime hits the highway and speeds down in, pulling into the third exit he hits. He drives the car into a Denny's parking lot and exits the car slowly, cane in tow. He is dressed in his clothes from the movie set and looks like a man straight out of the 40's. Showtime walks into the restaurant and is greeted by a women at the counter.

Cashier: Hello sir, welcome to Denny's. What can I get for you?

I'll have the $8 Grand Slam Slugger, eggs scrambled, with hash browns. A $2 Cheese Quesadilla. 2 Cali Club Sandwiches, a Hot Chocolate and Peanut Sundae, and a large 4 and 4 coffee... decaf please.

Is... this all just for you?

Yes it is, and am I also getting a 15% discount?

Yes... with discount that's $20.78.

Showtime reaches into his wallet.

Here's $100. Keep the change.

Uh, uh, thank you sir. Your order will be up right away.

The cashier heads back to make sure Showtime's order is done perfectly. Showtime glances around the room. It's mostly filled with older people that look like he currently does, but there are some young families. He notices a smaller boy wearing a WZCW T-shirt and playing with a Matt Tastic action figure. Suddenly three older boys approach him. One is wearing a Dorian Slaughter T-shirt and he grabs the toy from the younger boy and start to taunt and tease him.

Young Boy: Give that back to me.

Older Boy: What are you going to do about it? Tell your mommy.

Showtime looks around. The potential mothers of these boys are all on their phones, a common occurrence at most restaurants these days.

Matt Tastic's weak and so are you. You don't to end up like he did at Unscripted.

The bullies laugh hard amongst themselves as the young boy looks about to cry. It is at this moment that Showtime interrupts them.

Excuse me young fellas, but I think you should be giving that toy back to this young fan and going back to finish your meals.

What are you going to do about it you old fart?

Showtime smiles and with lightning quick speed he takes his cane and trips the leg of the head bully. Before he even hits the ground, Showtime thrusts his cane through the belt loop on the boys pants and suspends him above the floor. The two other boys slowly back off and return to their tables.

Hey... let me down.

Not until you return the toy and apologize.

The bully looks down at the young boy and hands him the toy, throwing out a quick sorry. Showtime lowers him down to the floor and he quickly heads back to his table. The young boy turns to Showtime.

Thank you sir.

It was my duty. I see that you are a WZCW fan.

Yes.

Is Matt Tastic your favourite wrestler?

He is. He's the best.

Yes, he is one of the most dedicated and hard working wrestlers in WZCW. It's been some time since I followed WZCW. Who is this Dorian Slaughter that boy spoke of?

He's a mean person. He beat Tastic at Unscrtipted for the WZCW Title. I don't know if anybody will be able to stop him.

All things can be stopped, just like that bully over there. Tell me young lad, what do you think of "Showtime" David Cougar?

I don't really know. He's somebody my older brother talked about lots when he wrestled. I only saw him at the Hall of Fame ceremony. He looks pretty old.

Showtime grimaces at that remark, but smiles through it.

I suppose he would be compared to some of the people there right now.

Excuse me, sir, your order is ready.

Thank you.

Showtime takes the tray and looks down at the boy. He takes the sundae and hands it to him.

Here you go. A treat.

Thank you mister.

The boy returns to his mothers table and Showtime takes a seat nearby and slowly eats his food, appearing to be in deep thought.

-----

Days later Showtime pulls into the driveway of a large mansion. He grabs his bags from the back seat and heads up the driveway to the door and opens it.

Honey, I'm home.

He smirks, getting a kick out of saying that every time. He throws he bags onto a nearby table as his son Clayton is the first to greet him. Showtime lifts him off the floor and throws him high into the air, catching him and giving him a great big hug before placing him back down. Clayton grabs his hand and pulls Showtime into the kitchen when his wife Brenna is waiting for him.

Brenna: Hello Honey. How was the movie?

It was great.

Are you going to be getting any Oscar nominations for it?

Let's just say I won't be getting any Razzie nominations for it this time.

Brenna laughs and Showtime gives her a big kiss. He heads over to the living room where a large bassinet is sitting. Showtime leans over and picks up his baby daughter Chase and holds her.

Hello Chasie girl. I've missed you most of all.

Showtime gives a kiss as Brenna and Clayton appear in the picture. A shot of perfectly happy and content family.

-----

Later that evening Clayton is sitting down watching Meltdown 120 on TV. Showtime enters the living room and pulls Clayton onto the couch with him.

Hey buddy, you mind if I watch with you?

You never watch wrestling with me.

Well, I think maybe I'd like to start.

The two get settled and watch together.

Is that Dorian Slaughter?

Clayton nods his head.

Do you think Daddy could beat him.

Clayton doesn't speak or nod his head.

Hey, give your old man some credit. I am a three time WZCW Champion.

Clayton nods, but still doesn't say anything.

So he's a bad person.

Clayton looks at him and nods his head.

Bad people get what's coming to him. Don't worry.

The two continue watching the show, cheering on wrestler like Kagura Ohzora and Noah Ryder, and booing Cerberus and Abel Hunnicutt. Finally the main event comes on between Slaughter and Daggershield. At the end of a well fought contest, Constantine appears on screen.

What the hell is he doing?

Constantine is shown holding a chair and picks apart the fallen Slaughter. Constantine feels proud of himself as Slaughter is taken away in a stretcher. Showtime turns off the TV.

You were right Dad... How come you're not smiling.

Because son, somebody being bad shouldn't be beaten down, they should be humbled so that they learn from it. Two bad things don't make it good. What just happened could have far worse implications than what Slaughter could've done.

-----

Days later Brenna is scene wandering around the mansion. She runs into their house maid on their way out.

Excuse me, have you seen David?

House Maid: Yes Ms. Cougar. He took his keys and went out to the gym.

Yes, can I pay you double to stay and watch the kids.

Brenna is in her car and pulls up to a very modern looking gym. She gets out of her vehicle and walks into the gym. The place is dark except for a few lights that shine over a wrestling ring. Inside Showtime is bouncing off the ropes and practicing a bombs. Brenna walks up and immediately makes her presence known.

Please tell me you're doing some practice for a new movie.

Showtime gets up off the mat and smiles.

Not exactly a movie, more like a sequel.

Brenna enters the ring and gets in Showtime's face.

You've beat cancer. You've practically beaten everyone who has every stepped into a ring. What more do you have to prove?

I'm not trying to prove anything.

Then why go back?

Showtime grabs the ropes for a moment and then looks at her.

Because it's what I've been born to do. It's what has given me all the breaks and luxuries that we currently have. I owe this business as much as it owes me. I know I don't have to prove anything by going out there, but I want to be out there. I want to show my son and every other little fan watching that there is something good and right to cheer for in the ring. That there is someone to believe in that will help make everything right again. That there is someone that can change things for the better. I can do that, better than I can act it in some movie. This is where I belong.

Brenna looks Showtime in the eyes and nods her head. He straddles through the ropes and looks back at him.

Just don't get hurt.

She slowly walks out of the gym as Showtime resumes his training.

-----

Weeks later a more fit looking Showtime is sitting in an airport, waiting for his plane to fly him over to England. He appears very anxious and almost worried. After a few minutes of uncomfortable sitting, he gets up and heads over to the bar.

Maybe I am making a big mistake.

He stands by and wait for the bartender to take his order. Showtime looks across the boarding area and sees a young boy playing with WZCW action figures and notices one of this is a Showtime David Cougar figure. The young boy takes Showtime up to the top of the chair seat and lets him fly off and crash down on top of Ty Burna figure and counts 1, 2, 3. The boy cheers loudly and the smile on his face could brighten up a room. Showtime smiles and walks away from the bar without a drink. He stares out of the airport window at the sky and the endlessness of it. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his cell to make a call.

Hello Mr. Banks. It's Showtime.

 

[Richard Blonoff]

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

The cool breeze and gentle splashes of running water enveloped Steven Kurtesy, sitting gracious and cross-legged with eyes closed as he maintained his meditation position. It made the Professor relax and concentrate on channelling his energy throughout his broken body, a body that had succumbed to the horrors WZCW has had to offer him over the years. His knees buckled without the use of a cane, his lower back caused several problems and his throat was always itchy. However, in this sacred monastary in the mountains with his half-sister Sandy Deserts, he felt invincible. His mind and soul was untouched and no pain in his physical form could stop him from living the rest of his life in peace.

Kurtesy took a deep breath and opened his eyes, seeing the glowing flora and fauna greet him back to the world of the seeing. He smiled, enjoying the sight he has seen for many a day yet still impresses him. He looks to uncross his legs and get to a standing position but Kurtesy is having a lot of trouble. He does his best to get to a vertical base but he almost falls. Preparing for the worst, Kurtesy closes his eyes and waits for the pain... but it never comes. He opens his eyes and sees Sandra standing there, holding him up as best as she can.

"You really need to take it easy, Kurtesy." She instructed with a hint of worry in her voice. "Your body is deteriorating."

"I'm okay, Sandy." Steven retorted with pride. "I've just over 40. I think I can handle myself."

Sandy shook her head. "Just because you're younger than me doesn't excuse you from taking care of your body. You need to take care of whatever is left of you otherwise the rest of your life will just be spent in more agony. You don't want that, do you?"

"No, I do not."

Sandy lifted Steven to a standing position and handed him his walking stick. Kurtesy stood as tall as he could with the stick in his hand, smiling weakly to his sibling.

"But what is living if you can't do it to the fullest, Sandy?" Steven asked. "I love all this free time to ponder and meditate at the Master's monastery yet..."

"Don't you even think about, Steven." Sandy interrupted. "You remember the reason why we left, right?"

Steven opened his mouth to answer but he knew anything that came out of his mouth would elicit a verbal beating from Sandy. He knew she and the decision they made together to leave was right. There was no faulting her.

"You were being dragged through the darkness by the most evil man we've ever known. You cannot risk running into that rhyming psychopath again. For God's sake Steven, he burned our dead mothers' casket and took me captive to perform experiments on me just to get to you. Imagine if he saw you again, let alone any of your other enemies from that damn company still lurking around."

Kurtesy saw the look of concern on his half-sister's face, knowing her feelings about his health and safety were genuine. Sandy & Steven have had a long, extremely complicated (and sometimes morally wrong) history with each other but he knew that look well.

"I do not wish to return, Sandy..."

"Excellent, so it's sett-"

"... but there is one thing I've yet to accomplish that I've always wanted to mark down on my check-list: to finally compete in the Lethal Lottery."

Sandy shot a look of disbelief at Kurtesy, trying to re-iterate the warning she just gave him.

"I'm not usually one for legacies but this has been gnawing at me for quite some time, Sandy. Since my debut in 2009, I have yet to step foot inside the Lethal Lottery match. Everyone who is worth a damn has walked through those doors and competed in that famous brawl, including yourself... and you were apart of the failed Vixen's division."

"Hey!"

"Look Sandy... I've held multiple championships, one of which I won upon my debut and one was the World title. I held and defended that World title in the main event of Kingdom Come. I've been inside multiple tournaments, competed in the King for a Day chamber & was a mentor in the first and only mentor program. I competed in the first-ever Hell in a Cell match in history and I competed in the match Ty Burna won his World title as well as competing in the match Ty Burna lost that very same World title. I've battled the greatest competitors the company has to offer and beaten them. I've..."

"Yes, yes I get it. You're accomplished."

Kurtesy smiled. "... but the one thing Steven Kurtesy has yet to do was compete in the Lethal Lottery."

Steven looked away from his sibling and towards the setting sun.

"You're right when you say I should take it easy but before I can finally lay to rest every thought I've ever had about WZCW, there is only one thing left for me to do and this is it. I do not care for returning and competing again; my time has passed... all I want to do is put my mind at ease and finally, for the first time in six years, compete in the Lethal Lottery whilst my body is still can operate. Is that so much to ask?"

Sandy paused for a moment. She had a lot of things she wanted to say but ultimately, she nodded her head and patted her brother on her shoulder.

"Well, it sounds like you've made up your mind and convincing your otherwise would seem like a fruitless endeavour. I know better than to start an un-winnable argument with you."

Steven puts his arm around Sandy.

"Don't worry, sis... your little brother is going to come back in one piece. I just need to do this."

The two of them stare at the setting sun for a while, letting the conversation sink into both of their minds. Sandy was reluctant but agreed, knowing Steven needed this for himself. All she wanted was for him to be happy and she knew if she stopped him from doing this, he wouldn't be until he did.

"You know the Master is going to be extremely pissed with you leaving the monastery after committing the rest of your life here, right?"

"I'm sure he'll allow me this one pilgrimage." Steven laughed. "I'll just tell him I'm visiting some old friends. He'll accept that."

"How do you know?"

Steven turned to his sister and winked with a big smile on his face.

"Trust me, I'm a doctor!"

"Do you really just fucking say that to me?"

"I couldn't resist."

"Jesus Christ. You're worse than Doug Crashin trying to convince himself he's a capable wrestler."

"Yeah, he does give me some really bad crashin movements whenever he steps in the ring."

"Why did you even team with that guy?"

"Same reason why we..."

"Just like you used to say when Teach tried to hit on your grandmother... don't go there."

The two share a laugh as they begin to walk.

"Life just has its way of taking us down some really weird paths, doesn't it?"

"It sure does, sister... it sure does..."

Sandy & Steven continued bickering and talking with each other as they walk away towards the monastery, enjoying the company they provide for the other and the nature that surrounds them.