Meltdown 67/Ascension 42/Aftershock 3

[Showtime]

Scene opens in Showtime David Cougar’s dressing room at WZCW Studios. Showtime is sitting in his lounge chair quietly reading from a pile of papers that surround his desk. Allen Lewicki is also in the room going over Showtime’s upcoming schedule. Trent Stonewall appears in the room as well and is standing right beside Showtime, yelling in his ear.

Stonewall: Tonight... we reclaim what is rightfully ours. Our time away from the main event spotlight in WZCW is over. Tonight we reclaim glory. We show all who oppose us that Showtime is ready to take centre stage again. And to all who view us... they will be left speechless by the performances we are about to deliver.

Lewicki: Showtime I’m really excited about tonight. I know for the past several weeks you’ve been trying to separate yourself from just about everything in your past. Which is why I was surprised that you were going to bring back...

Cougar: Allen... we wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise for everybody. Someone’s always trying to get an inside story in wrestling.

Oh yes... of course. Sorry... I forgot that somebody could be in this room right now listening in on our conversation.

Trent Stonewall lets out a loud laugh to which Showtime smiles and chuckles.

Yes your right Allen. I suppose anybody could be in this room right now.

Trent Stonewall taps Showtime’s shoulder and points to Allen.

When are you going to get rid of this monkey, now that I’ve returned to reorganize your priorities.

In time... right now it’s good to have someone who is real around. Might keep me a little more sane.

Did you say something Showtime?

Just mumbling over some notes for tonight. It’s been a long time. I do admit I’m slightly nervous.

You nervous? Your Showtime David Cougar. The most confident and charismatic superstar in WZCW. You’ll knock this one out of the park, just like you always do.

Thanks Allen. Come on, let’s go get you that Snow cone you’ve been asking for before we head out and do this thing.

Alllllright!

Showtime and Allen get up and exit the room. Showtime closes the door behind him and the two walk out. Trent Stonewall now appears leaned against a wall as he watches Allen and Showtime walk to the cafeteria.

I’ll have to dispose of this kid somehow...

----------

Scene reopens in a pitch black room. Two Spotlight suddenly appear and begin to figure-eight in front of a black curtain.

Announcer: Ladies and Gentleman... after a one year hiatus... it is my pleasure to present to you... the return of..... THE SHOW!!!!! Live in a special on ice edition!

The curtains open and wondrous large set is shown. The familiar desk and black leather chair occupy the right side on the stage while slightly off stage to the left band leader Marty Lachance is conducting a large 12 piece band. One the stage, which is covered in ice, are 2 figure skating couples, who gracefully spin and dance on the stage.

Announcer: And now... here is the star of The Show... Showtime David Couuuuuugarrrrrr!

The two couples dance off to the side and the spotlights shine onto the back wall. The wall shifts to the side and Showtime glides onto the stage and skids to a dead stop just before the edge. The crowd applauds loudly as Showtime takes a bow and then blows kisses to the audience.

Showtime: Thank you. Thank you. Hello yes and welcome.... welcome... to the return of The Show. I am your host, Showtime “God it feels good to be back here on this stage” David Cougar!

The crowd roars and continues to applaud.

Now as you can plainly see... there is a large amount of ice on the stage. No this will not be a permanent thing and we won’t be exclusively going after the Eskimo viewing audience... although our numbers don’t lie in Alaska, Yukon and Northwest Territories, we are a hit. No I thought... given my set has burnt down on more than one occasion, ironically enough both time’s by me, I figured with a bit of deep chill that this set might be able to survive the red hot show we have for you here tonight.

Showtime skates over to his desk and slowly eases himself into the chair.

Tonight I want to first talk briefly about All or Nothing and then preview my possible match for this weeks Meltdown or Ascension. What is my match this week Marty?

Marty: Tough call boss. Could be anything from S.H.I.T to Jack O’Lantern.

Well that is just rude Marty. First... I never give a shitty performance. Showtime is definitely not shit. And second Marty... perhaps you’ve forgotten what month it is since I put this show and your band on hiatus, but there aren’t any pumpkins on the ground anymore and I certainly am not wrestling with any of your rotting Jack O’Lantern.

Why not... you’ve been wrestling with this rotten show of yours for the past several years. I figured maybe you could use some... lighting up.

Du du duh

Well if the lame jokes are over with... my sidekick is correct. This week WZCW presents Meltdown Madness and Ascension Anarchy. And some other show, After Blow or something, god I hope I don’t end up on that show, but the fact is every match this week is being randomly selected. Opponents, stipulations, gimmicks, all will be a mystery until we step into the ring.

But first, All or Nothing. What a fantastic PPV. Of course I was victorious, once again putting my career on the line, this time against old man Stan Rogers, and successfully retired that geezer. There were other stuff that happened at All or Nothing as well, besides me if you can believe it. Four title changes and no I didn’t win one, for only the third PPV ever I was either not champion going in or didn’t leave as champion. Dragon successfully defended the EurAsian Title with twice the help and half the odds of successfully defending. Team Jumps A Lot, Austin Reynolds and Ricky Runn, managed to win the Tag Team titles without jumping a lot. Steven Holmes is right at home as your new Elite X Champion and he may be the best champion we’ve had since... well since I held that title. And did someone call a Cruz because the Mayhem Title is in Paradyse right now. The Apostles of Chaos had a rough evening for the first time since their formation Kurtesy of a little Action as they were Saboteur’d and Baller’d the whole night through. And then there was the main event. Former KFAD Barbosa, a man of of three minds who cashed in at an unexpected time, faced three men, technically, and lost the WZCW Heavyweight Championship to..... Titus.

Titus... your victory... surprising given how you’ve almost flown off the radar into irrelevance since your return, but what’s not surprising is that you were even in this match to begin with. I called it a mile away when I saw it. Show the clip.

A TV lowers from the Ceiling and Showtime plays a clip of his promo before Meltdown 66

Titus... don’t think I am not aware of what you’ve tried to do so stealthily under the radar. Your mouth says you want to fight Ty Burna and Big Dave, but your eyes tell me you’re only after one thing, the WZCW World Heavyweight Title...

Titus why else would you have positioned yourself to be in a feud with Barbosa... the man who holds the KFAD Title Contract. It didn’t matter who won between Ty and Dave. You weren’t number 1 contender. You wanted to position yourself in a feud with Barbosa, so if he happen to use it between say now and Lethal Lottery, you could slide your way into the title picture.

I said that about you before our match at Meltdown... our match where I beat you cleanly. Yet I wasn’t added to the Main Event at All or Nothing. No my prize, the WZCW Heavyweight Championship, is not to be shared in a multi man contest. Titus your time as champion is already on borrowed time. The way I see it, I should be champion already, not you. 2012 is the start of a new year... a chance for you, for me, for everybody on the roster, to start fresh and have new goals. My goal Titus... is to dethrone you champion. And it could happen this week... it could happen the following... Lethal Lottery... Kingdom Come... it don’t matter when... because my future is written for everyone to see. Showtime David Cougar will be WZCW Champion... in 2012. If not well... the end of the world as we know it... will most likely happen.

A hush silence falls from the crowd.

I’m kidding of course about the end of the world. God we have a bunch of conspiracists in the audience. There will be no Doomsday in 2012, but will there be a Doomsday match at Meltdown Madness? Or a Fall Count Anywhere Ladder match at Ascension Anarchy? Those two ideas sound absurd but anything is possible this week during the most unpredictable week of WZCW. My opponent could be anyone... a 500 lb Gorilla, an angry british guy, boy we have a lot of those, or even a handicap match verse Ashleigh FalKon and Doug Crashin. Easiest match of the year that one would be but the point is I could be facing anyone on any show in any type of match. So while I could physically dissect everyone on the roster and bore you on and on about why I’m better and why I will beat them, I’m just going to say a few small accurate words and let you all know how I feel about my chances. Ready... Marty hit the harmonica.

Marty plays a single note on the harmonica.

Everest is in a down slope
Ty Burna ain’t burning up

Blade’s a dull knife
Hammond’s a dull board
Overlast... well he won’t last with those two or against me.

Beckford’s really great, but can he win, of course he can’t, he’s forgotten how
See Reynolds Runn... Run right out the ring
Gonna get a Killjoy out of Tastic, the former Baez gonna fold like plastic

Gordito’s never held the gold
Neither has John Constantine
Steele did but then he left, what say he won’t again if we fight

Is there a bomb watch? No it's a Brad Bomb match, and everyone's gone.
Sam Smith... plain sounding... Final Act will be his crash landing

Scumm... well he’s a bum
Skinner... I’ll cook him up for dinner
Stark... I’m gonna knock him out of the park

Justin Cooper... I’ll turn him into a real blooper
The Internet Warrior... Please... more like The Internet Borrior.

Triple X, Raynes, and Bull... pfft... shit that’s what Showtime has to say about those 3 rooks and any man who happens to be unfortunate enough to face me this week. No matter who the opponent is... Showtime will bring the whole highlight reel to the ring and my opponents will be seeing stars as they hear the bell ring after 1... 2... 3 seconds. Ladies and Gentlemen hank you for being part of the return of The Show. We hope this place doesn’t catch on fire too quickly as I hope we’ll be back again next week. From all of us at WZCW. I am Showtime David Cougar, and I’ll see you this Meltdown when the madness begins.

 

[The Doctor]

Signal Panic, Inc. presents
Action Saxton
in
Simplicity 2: Funky Boogaloo

The scene is simple: A black sheet emblazoned with the WZCW logo serves as the background, and in front of it stands Leon Kensworth and Action Saxton. Action Saxton is dressed in an unbuttoned, dark red dress shirt, allowing his rock-hard abs to show to the camera, which is sure to drive WZCW's female viewership ratings up by at least 42%. however, to make sure they don't all automatically die of hyperventilation when they see his pristine and manly form, he has opted to wear a pair of dark glasses to hide his eyes. How considerate!

Leon Kensworth, on the other hand, is not wearing dark glasses. He is dressed in a formal grey suit, and is not looking like he will be appeasing the key female demographic any time soon. He clears his throat.

"Hello, WZCW fans!" he says. "I'm here with one of WZCW's hottest stars, Action Saxton."

Action Saxton nods, a smile playing across his handsome face. Leon continues, turning slightly towards the Badass Brother.

"Mr. Saxton, at All or Nothing, you, Kurtesy, and Saboteur were wildly successful in your defeat of the Apostles of Chaos. However, you have what may be even a bigger challenge this week - The Roulette. Depending on how the chips fall, you could be on Aftershock, Ascension, or Meltdown, facing any kind of opponent, in any kind of match! What are your thoughts?"

Action Saxton stares off into the distance for a second, no doubt turning over in his mind the possibility of perpetual motion, before smoothly taking the mic from Kensworth like the smooth soul he is.

"Now, sucka, that's a very good question," he says. "But I don't want to address just you in this. I want to address everyone, from my adoring fans, to the boys in the back, to people I know, people I don't know, and that weird-ass dude with the curly beard that keeps sending me images of himself bathing in a pool of delicious fruit-flavored jelly snacks."

He turns towards the camera.

"Listen up, suckas!

First, I want to say thank you to Kurtesy and Saboteur. I am not always a man who needs help to lay the smack-dab on some jive-turkey asses, but if I could have picked two people to do it with, I probably would have picked Spider-Man and my boy Kung Fu Jones. But since I could not have them then Saboteur and Dr. Kurtesy sure as hell made fine replacements.

Now, I want to address some things that have recently been on my mind. I think people have been forgetting just who I am. Yeah, I know, it seems crazy. After all I am one of the most badass people on WZCW's roster and I have just come off a big PPV win. But I think people have forgotten just how Action Saxton can really be.

I want to tell you suckas a story. It was a dark and stormy night and my afro was getting wet as hell. I was in a bad, bad mood as I stormed into the castle to take on a group of Brazilian knights. Now, those armor-clad ninjas tried to take aim at me with their fire arrows, but being the agile m'sucka I am I dodged all of them and laughed as their flames fizzled onto the floor. One of them struck me, but I pressed on. It takes more than fire to stop a badass like me, and anyway I was soaked from head to toe by the damn rain so the fire just went out anyway.

I punched all these knight ninjas in the face, causing their helmets to shatter into exactly 4214 pieces each time. I thought it would be smooth-sailing until I reached the dungeon where my girl was being kept. I thought I would be facing more knights. I was wrong.

What I found guarding that dungeon was worse than any knight. It was worse than any ninja. It was worse than Armando Paradyse actually winning a championship. What I found guarding that dungeon was my very own vintage 1960 Cadillac Coupe De Ville. That sucka had gone rogue.

I did what I had to do. I needed to save my woman. I defeated my former ride in honorable hand-to-wheel combat. I rescued the girl. And we walked back to my high class penthouse apartment in Wyoming, basking in the beautiful sunset.

The point is, I'm used to dealing with the unexpected and I am not afraid to fight a friend or partner if it comes to that. I am a badass brother unlike any other. I am the star of the show without an equal or a sequel. I am the man of action, the heat-packin', modern-day mackin', jivin' and thrivin' and always survivin' Action Saxton!

So you listen, universe, and wrestlers, and Leon, and creepy-ass mothersucka, and you listen good: It don't matter whether I am in a hardcore match against Black Dragon, a submission match against my boy Saboteur, or a Tuxedo match against Titus himself for the WZCW Championship - I am here to kick some ass, show some class, and make WZCW remember what Action Saxton is all about.

Can you dig it?"

Action Saxton walks off, satisfied by a job well done. Kensworth turns back to the camera, further dropping WZCW's female viewership.

"Well, there you have it, folks. Action Saxton fears no man, machine, or computer."

The scene fades.​

 

[Gelgarin]

Book of the Dragon​

~ Chapter 16 – Curiosity towards the Unknown ~​

I don’t handle the unexpected well.

Partly it’s for obvious reasons. Black Dragon is a character who depends who depends on deception. If I were to get caught out, to make a mistake, all of this would come crashing down around me, so I must always stay one step ahead. I’m not spontaneous, I can’t think on the fly. I can act but not react, and when my lines are not written for me then I only have one response. Violence. If I want to meet the world with anything beyond my fist then I require more time. I need to be able to sit and stew in shadow, plotting, planning. If he says this then I shall say that. If this happens then here is my response. I don’t play cards or roulette with my future, I play chess. A man who gambles with his fortune will sooner or later lose it all, but with a well played gambit it is possible to keep on winning.

There is more to it than that though. My inability to react is the flower, not the root of the problem. To find the root cause we must dig a little deeper into the soil and examine the laws of chance themselves. I don’t trust the unknown. Truth be told I don’t trust that which I know very well either, but the critical difference is that the known can only betray you once. People may turn and stab you in the back, but dame fortune is a mistress that keeps on stabbing. Inspect me and you’ll find me riddled with scars, physical and metaphorical, born from the blade of chance. The fates have never been my friend, and I will never put my faith in them.

A young boy put his faith in fortune when he first stumbled onto the streets of Carson. He’d been running away, but even now he’s not sure how far he ran. People get the wrong idea about America; they see the metropolises and assume that reflects the country. In truth, across much of the nation, if you wander far enough from the beaten track then it is possible to spend days trying to find it again. When you’re lost, half starved, beset by winding trails that don’t go anywhere, and most importantly when you’re twelve years old the state park around Lake Tahoe might as well be the Australian outback.

Half starved is only half way true by the time the boy sets foot on Carson’s late night streets. The sun descended hours ago, but Carson’s main streets are bathed in a twenty four hour neon glow. The Nugget, The Smoke Shop, The Fandango. These titans sit; eternal bastions of light and sound. To many they represent chance, entertainment and opportunity; but to a small starved child who has battled through the night they represent safety, security, warmth and possibly food.

Small boys are not allowed to pass through the neon gates, but if the life our boy has run from has taught him anything it is how to remain unnoticed. Move quickly and with purpose, always look busy, never ever meet another person’s gaze. Keep quiet, don’t attract attention and for one more night you might just survive.

He’s trapped by a cruel irony. Daddy took his belt to the boy on a regular basis. He’s been battered, broken and bruised for as long as he can remember. Being struck was a nightly ritual, be it by Daddy’s fists, an empty bottle or even once a wrench. Daddy never missed an opportunity to teach his son a lesson, but because of this, no matter how it was taught, the boy learned right from wrong. He won’t lie, he won’t steel. Food is not hard to find on the flaw of a casino, but the food is not his to eat. He doesn’t know what he’s looking for, possibly something discarded. This place looks like it might be a hotel; perhaps he can find a sink or a shower and wash the last of the blood off his face. Mostly however it is simply curiosity towards the unknown that draws the boy forward.

Curiosity is the emotion that drives casinos. Men do not know where the little ball will fall, where the wheels will stop or what the next card will be, but they give up what they have in order to find out, captured by the hope that the changed world will be slightly better for them. The boy is much the same; he has wagered everything he has, his life, his home, his family, all in the hope that life will deal him a kinder hand this time around.

“Hay. Kid.”

Double zero once again. The boy doesn’t know it yet, but he’s become one of Carson’s innumerable street urchins, and the urchins are not welcome inside the houses of light. There are hundreds of them out there, scraping an existence on the very margins, pilfering food and coin wherever they can. A starving man who steals a loaf of bread is considered a folk hero, right up until the moment that you meet him and discover that it is your bread he has stolen. The boy never stole a thing in his life, but he’s a skinny, dirty child in a place he has no right to be, he can hardly complain. There is little he can do; his bones are too weary to resist as he is roughly manhandled towards the street and his throat is too parched to protest his innocence. He is frog marched in a daze, berated all the way until a single word from the security guard penetrates his skull.

“Police.”

Is that what they have in store for him? Was it just an idle threat in the “If I catch you in here again…” pantheon? He doesn’t know, he wasn’t listening, but it’s not a gamble he’s willing to take. Police will want to know who he is, where he comes from, and will want to send him back there. He doesn’t know what the alternative is, but surely it has to be better than that. Surely.

He’s outside again now, and he summons reserves of strength that he knows he doesn’t have. He twists out of the guard’s grip. He can hardly stand, he can hardly talk, but the boy can always run away. He’s had a lot of practice after all. He quickly leaves the guard’s protests behind, darts around the first corner he finds, the take another, crosses the street and heads down the first ally he passes. Carson is a strange city, all of the life, the light and the noise is condensed into a single high street. Turn off of St Carson’s and you can find yourself in a slum before the neon of the casinos has faded from view.

It’s colder here, quieter too. He borrowed strength from his body to get here, and now it is presenting its bill, dropping the kid to his knees. Is this what he gambled everything to win? The right to stave in a dark ally in an unfamiliar city. He didn’t expect anything when he came here, he was focused on the ‘away’ rather than the ‘to’, but if he had any expectations they would have been better than this. Cold, dark, hungry, lost and alone. Dame fortune has not lived up to her end of the bargain.

“Hay. Kid.”

Or has she. It’s the same words as before, but a different voice, this one not openly hostile.

“You OK?”

Out of the darkness comes a man. He’s rough looking, dirty and ill shaven, but gifts sometimes come from unexpected directions. He is wearing a huge leather greatcoat and has a strange half smile on his face, as if enjoying a joke that the rest of the world has yet to get.

“Hungry…”

At this point it’s all that he can think to say. The man laughs a little laugh to himself; this is probably a sight he has seen many times before. He reaches down and helps the boy up, supporting his weight as he brings him back to his feet.

“Come with me kid, I’ve got some friends down here. I’m sure they can find something for you to put in your mouth.”

Hope springs eternal. Dame fortune settles her debt. One can always depend of the kindness of strangers. These thoughts are a little too complex for the boy, but he recognises an act of kindness and allows himself to be guided deeper into Carson City’s maze of alleyways.

They’re gathered around a smoking metal drum. At least four of them. He’s hardly in a position to take in details, but he thinks they are similar in appearance to the man who brought him here. Clearly they are people of the streets, but he supposes that he is a person of the streets now as well. When they see him and his guide approach they take a keen interest. The boy is not used to being inspected like this, but there is an aroma of food emanating from the group, and he shyly shuffles forward. The men smile an approving smile. He guide pats him on the back, motioning him forward. He advances further. The men smile more. At first the boy doesn’t feel the wire around his throat. The steel snare bites into his flesh, depriving him of air. He tries to struggle but he is weak and pathetic. His legs are kicked from under him and he lands face first. This is all too familiar. A knee is placed in the small of his back, pinning him in place. He struggles to turn his head, the garrotte biting into his neck, and sees the crowd of men approaching with predatory intent. At this point you can write your own ending. We know full well what happens next, but there is some shit that should not sully the page.

This is why I do not trust in chance. Put too much faith in fate and you are liable to get fucked. Putting faith in the unknown has punished me time after time. Now I put my faith only in what I know I can depend on. I no longer feel curiosity towards the unknown, the unknown is a threat. Unfortunately it is a threat that I am going to have to face. There are men out there I want to destroy and men I would rather not harm. I might be instructed to apply myself to the defence of my trinket, I might not. Thirty odd potential opponents, unlimited possibilities, you can’t prepare for all of them. I despise uncertainty. I am useless without a plan. Fortunately I think I see an all purpose solution to my situation.

I shall hit people until they stop moving.

It’s not a complex gambit I concede, but it’s the best I can come up with.

Of course, whether it is likely to work or not is still unknown. Are you curious?

 

[Hawkeye]

The holidays have come and gone, just as the events that transpired at All or nothing did. Sean was mercilessly beaten by Armando Paradyse, as the Puerto Rican Nightmare sought to make the match a little more skewed in his favor. Sean quickly recovered from his physical injuries, but as to be expected from a man as emotional as our protagonist, things haven’t gotten better for him mentally. We now find him sitting in his home on a Saturday afternoon shoveling peanut butter directly out of a jar into his mouth and watching cartoons. In stark contrast to Sean’s defeated demeanor, his girlfriend, Nikki Almark is as sunny and effervescent as ever.

Nikki: Are you just going to mope around forever? You can keep letting these guys get you down like this.

Sean: No, I completely agree with you. I’m so over Alex, Armando and the whole Mayhem division. It wasn’t worth the five seconds I was champion anyway.

Nikki: Then why do you still seem so sad?

Sean: Because I’m almost out of Peanut Butter. I wanted this jar to last the whole day but alas, it was not to be.

Nikki: You are such a drama queen. But I’ve got an idea. You’ve been cooped up in the house all week since Paradyse beat you up, and I have to get groceries anyway. You should come with me.

Sean: No way. I hate grocery stores. There’s always something stupid happening there.

Nikki: What do you mean?

Sean: You know. Customers yelling at cashiers, little kids knocking stuff over, crybaby employees that want to stop you and tell their whole life story…It’s not for me.

Nikki: Come on, just this once! I promise you won’t see anything “stupid” happening.

Sean: Great. Now I have to put on pants.

We now see Sean and Nikki walking through the grocery store, and again both their opposing character traits come into play. Nikki, being a staunch traditionalist only grabs the items she knows she needs. At the other end of them spectrum Sean has already made three trips around the store with a cookbook app on his phone and randomly grabbing ingredients for new recipes he’s “dying to try”.

Nikki: Would you stop it? I’m sure you’ve already run our bill over $200.

Sean: It’ll be fine. Besides I can’t wait to try some of this stuff. Check out this awesome recipe I found for Tuna Burgers!

Nikki: I hate tuna. Can’t we just have regular hamburgers?

Sean: But these tuna burgers have more flavor than your hamburger with all the condiments. Plus there’s this lemon and herb seafood sauce that’ll be perfect with it.

Nikki: Ok, maybe I’ll just have a bite. Are we ready to go or do you need to run around some more?

Sean: No,I’m good now.

Sean suddenly breaks his stride in panic.

Sean: Wait! I forgot the peanut butter!

Nikki: I’ll go ahead and get in line and you go get your peanut butter, playboy.

As Nikki is patiently waiting in the checkout line, the monotony of that Saturday afternoon was violently disrupted. Two men in masks enter the store armed with handguns and demand that everyone get on the ground. Hearing the shout from the back of the store, Sean looks up and charges to the front. Taking care not to be heard, Sean sneaks up to the front and approaches the criminals from the left, armed with nothing but his wits and in-ring skills.

Robber #2: Hey! Didn’t you hear the man!? Get down on the ground!

Robber #1: Wait a minute. You’re that wrestler Sean Cruz, right? You’re probably loaded! Hand it all over.

Sean: I actually didn’t bring anything with me except my cellphone. My girlfriend is paying for the groceries.

Robber #2: Well which one is she?

Sean: Seriously? You think I’m going to tell you which of these women are with me so you can take all of her money and possibly hurt her? I don’t think so.

Robber #1: You would be wise to listen to the men with the guns.

Sean: That would be true, if you weren’t afraid to shoot them. Look at how your hands are shaking. You’ve probably never done this before in your life. How about we put the guns down and sort this all out? Just the three of us?

As Sean is boldly attempting to talk down the would be ccriminals, an observe and report security officer outside the building has alerted the local police force. Minutes later, as Sean is still talking to the robbers, out of the corner of his eye he sees a police car pull up. Risking his own safety, he knocks the gun out of one of the robbers’ hand and locks him in a full nelson.

Sean: Can’t shoot your buddy. That’s counterproductive, even for a two bit thief like you.

Police Officer: Come out with your hands up!

The officer on the bull horn gets the other robbers’ attention long enough for Cruz to throw his captive to the side and super kick his accomplice. He then walks outside and explains to the police that the robbery has been thwarted, which is received by a thunderous applause from the grocery store customers and a citation from the police, noting the legal implications of his vigilante behavior. Things quickly return to normal as the robbers are carted of by the police, and Sean and Nikki pay for their groceries and leave.As they load up in the car and Sean straps in his seat belt, he stares at Nikki incredulously as she gets in and starts the car.

Sean: Well at least nothing stupid happened, right?

Nikki: What were you thinking? What if they had shot at you?

Sean: I would have gone to the hospital and been taken care of. I was waiting for the police to show up to make my move.

Nikki: How were you sure they would show up?

Sean: No one robs a grocery store midday and gets away with it.

Nikki:At least those cops were sensible enough to fine you for your blatant stupidity. How much is the fine?

Sean looks over the citation and laughs.

Nikki: What’s so funny?

Sean: The amount of the fine is free seats to the next Meltdown! I guess they want to see me fire off another super kick!

Nikki: You don’t even know who you’re facing. What if you’re on the receiving end of a beatdown?

Sean: Then that’ll be a karmic payback, yeah? In any case, there’s no way to prepare for a shuffle like the one I’m in this week, but we can see how well I am in high pressure situations. My next match won’t be a problem.

 

[DirtyJosé]

We open inside of a bathroom; it's difficult to make out much through the steam coming out of the shower. We see the silhouette of a man through the curtains scrubbing his hair as he whistles to himself joyously. This is clearly a someone in good spirits.

After a few minutes, the shower is turned off. An arm reaches from out of the shower to grab a towel. Another minute later, the curtains are pulled back and all the steam it held in the shower area disperses. We still cannot clearly see this person as they step out, wrapped in the towel. They head towards the sink, opening the cabinet behind the mirror to pull out a toothbrush and toothpaste. They begin brushing their teeth, still humming a jaunty tune to themselves, almost dancing every few moments. After a few minutes of this, they finish up, rising out their mouth with a cup of water and spitting back into the sink. They stand up straight and raise a hand to wipe off the steam build up on the mirror. Through the now clear mirror, we find the face of Johnny Klamor staring back at himself with huge grin on his face.

Klamor: I love days like this. I love my job on days like this. Too often those nitwits Bateman and Myles have me off doing things unworthy of a man with my talents, but today...

He pulls a cotton swab out from the mirror cabinet while speaking, pausing to clean out one ear. He peeks at the waxy build up on the end of the swab before going to clean the other ear.

Klamor: Today is going to be fun. Today is going to be rewarding. Today I get to make that toady squirm and suffer. I've suffered enough at his hands over time. Today, I get some sweet payback.

He finishes up, again stopping to admire his work before discarding the used swab into the trash bin. He grins at himself in the mirror again.

Klamor: Today, I get to rub it into that pig Gordito's face that he still doesn't have what it takes to make it in WZCW.

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

We cut to a city exterior. We are in front of a high rise residential building in downtown Los Angeles. A red limo pulls up to the front, and Klamor wastes little time getting out, strutting his way inside and towards the elevator. We cut to the interior as his elevator reaches it's destination. As the doors open, Klamor continues his strut down the halls until he finds the door he's looking for. He primps his hair adjust his tie before knocking loudly at the door. He gets no response, so he knocks again. Still, no response. He pushes his ear to the door, and he begins to hear noise coming from inside.

Klamor: Probably drowning himself in sorrow at the moment. With any luck, I'll have caught him at the worst possible time.

He clears his throat and bangs on the door as hard as he can. This time, the door swings wide open and there stands The Dirty One, dressed in some khaki shorts and a tank top, beer in hand. Despite Klamor's hopes, he seems to be in a great mood.

Gordito: Klamor! What a wonderful surprise. Come on in, baby.

Gordito grabs Klamor as he says this, pulling him inside before Klamor has a chance to protest. He closes the door shut behind them, and leads Klamor in towards the living room, where we find the source of the noise; a loud stereo playing punk rock at near top volume.

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On the balcony, a BBQ is smoking with it's lid down. Gordito has an array of food and beer spread out over an island in the kitchen. He fetches a beer out the of the fridge and comes over towards Klamor, who seems disgusted by his surroundings.

Gordito: I wasn't expecting to see you here. I have some buddies coming over soon, but that's doesn't mean you aren't welcome.

He shoves the beer towards Klamor.

Gordito: Here, baby, have a drink.

Klamor: What the hell is going on here?

Gordito: Dude...weekend barbecue party. I do it all the time. You've seen me before.

He looks around the apartment.

Gordito: Now that I'm living indoors without a big ol' backyard, I have to scale it back a bit. But's still a tradition of mine. Here, man...

He again offers the beverage to Klamor. Klamor reaches out and shoves the beer back towards Gordito.

Klamor: I don't want your piss water, damnit. I don't...I mean...what the...

Gordito seems put off by Klamor's confusion and his refusal of his gift. This doesn't last very long however; he shrugs and opens the beer and drinks it along with the beer in his other hand. Klamor can only watch, flabbergasted.

Klamor: What...is...wrong with you? How can you be like this?

Gordito burps.

Gordito: What? I've always been an easy going cat, baby. What are...

Klamor: No. You aren't supposed to be like this. You're should be upset. You should be depressed. Defeated. Hopeless.

Gordito: Um...that's really...not my style?

Klamor backs up into a wall and raises his arm to point at Gordito.

Klamor: You just had your little Cinderella come back story. You somehow wormed your way into stealing the title shot at All or Nothing, and you not only had to watch as two other men got placed into what was supposed to be your big mano-a-mano shot for the title, but you were taken out of the match and had to watch as Titus went on to win his title back and flushing your little "feel good story" down the drain.

Gordito stares curiously at Klamor before taking a chug from each beer.

Klamor: You lost! All your effort, all your talk, all your posing, and for what? Nothing! To be worse off than you were before. To be the same place you've always been; just below everyone else who matters on the totem pole. I took this assignment because I knew you should be eating yourself alive over this, and this is what I find?

He motions towards the BBQ.

Klamor: You're just partying like you always do, acting like you haven't got a care in the world. Just the same old dumb look on your face as always, not taking anything seriously.

Gordito: Baby, you need to lighten up. I mean, hey, I'm sorry I'm not letting it kill me. But you know, it's not called "All or Nothing" without a reason.

Klamor: Shut up. Shut up. This isn't about you. This is about me. This is about how this is supposed to be my story. The mighty Dirty One, humbled once again on the big stage. You're supposed to be realizing how useless and out of place you are in WZCW. You're supposed to be thinking about leaving again. This...this...

Gordito chugs some beer again, and then belches even louder than the last time.

Klamor: This is supposed to be my day to rub it in. You're ruining this for me. You ruin everything for me.

At this point, the doors open up and a half a dozen guys spill into the room carrying cases of beer and snacks. They are almost as loud as the music and bypass Klamor freaking out and go straight towards Gordito.

Punk #1: Yo, Dirty, where you want we should put all this loot.

Gordito: Just put it all on the counter in the kitchen, guys.

Punk #2: Who's this dickwad?

The others start chuckling as Klamor fumes.

Gordito: Just some work catching up with me. I'll join you guys in a minute.

The guys all head to the kitchen as Gordito turns towards Klamor.

Gordito: Look Johnny, I've got some company over, so I'm sorry if I have to be brief here. I know you've come here for a sound bite to play all over WZCW, but you aren't going to find what you've come here for.

Klamor opens his mouth to speak, but Gordito cuts him off. His face hasn't lost any of it's good nature, but his eyes stare straight into Klamor's in a way that paralyzes him.

Gordito: All. Or. Nothing. I did my best, but it wasn't good enough. So I got just that: nothing. Big deal. It's not the first time I've come up short, and odds are that it won't be the last. Am I happy about that? Hell no I'm not. I would love to be celebrating this weekend with the WZCW World Heavyweight Championship over my shoulder. But do you know why people love me despite what you or people like you say and feel? Do you know why you are here trying to get what I'm feeling or thinking to share with the WZCW fans?

Klamor is still speechless. Gordito leans closer in towards him. Klamor begin tightening up; he's had superstars attack him before, and he's starting to realize that not only is he in Gordito's home, but that he outnumbered.

Gordito: It's because I'm a nice guy.

He backs up and his eyes return to their shiny innocence.

Gordito: And sometimes nice guys finish last. In the case of All or Nothing, a nice guy finished last, and third, and first. So Titus is once again the champion of WZCW. Couldn't have happened to a better guy. But people don't like me because I always win or something ridiculous like that; people like me because I don't let the failures get to me. I don't let the little things get me down. Because I'm a reminder to them that it doesn't matter whether you win or whether you lose; it's all about making sure you did your best, no matter what.

Klamor: Bbbbbbut, you're best wasn't good enough. It never is.

Gordito: I disagree, Johnny baby. 'Cause you know, even after a loss like that, I go out there and I still see a crowd of people happy to see me. A crowd of people still wanting to cheer for me. Because at the end of the day, I still stand for I stood for when I first got here; about doing your best and giving your all and about showing that our willpower alone can get us to and through anything.

Klamor: You are so full of it. You are such a phoney. One of these days, buddy. One of these days you are going to be so beaten down and defeated that not even your pretentious little speeches can cheer you up. It happens to everyone. It already almost happened to you once already. How much longer until another Baez puts you down for good?

Gordito: Baez broke my body, but he never broke my will. I figured someone like you could tell the difference.

Klamor: Don't you dare insult me like that. I did not come here to be treated like this.

Gordito burps.

Gordito: Of course not baby. You came here to try and catch me at an embarrassing low. But you aren't getting that, so I figured you could use a consolation prize. Now is there anything else you needed, or did you want to stick around for the festivities?

Klamor looks over Gordito's shoulder as the guys from the kitchen begin getting restless and spill out into the living room. They are looking back at Klamor with smirks on their faces, snickering to themselves.

Klamor: I...I hate you so much. So much. I promise you this, punk; I'm going to show all the people what a fraud you are one of these days. I'm going to prove to them that you are nothing special, that you are just a waste of time and that you are just taking the spot that someone more talented could have. Almost anyone in WZCW is better than you...

Gordito grabs Klamor by the shoulder, dropping his empty beer bottles to the floor. He turns him around and leads him back to the door.

Gordito: And you know what? With the special shows we have coming up, almost any one of those guys will get the chance to take me out this week. Last year it was Cory Allen, and he put up a good fight, but couldn't seal the deal. Maybe this time it'll be my time to take the pin, and maybe this time someone will make an impact by getting one over on The Dirty One.

He gets to the door and opens it as Klamor starts to struggle.

Gordito: Or, just maybe, The Dirty One will show them all that he's still ready to go, still at the top of his game, and always willing to give it his all no matter who I'm going against. So, until then, take care of yourself, baby.

He gently shoves Klamor out the door. Klamor is frazzled, almost starting to push back against Gordito, but by then it's too late. He opens his mouth, but the door slams shut in his face. The guys inside start to cheer loudly and the volume of the music is increased. Klamor stands staring at the door in shock, trying to speak but only choking on his words.

Klamor: I...you are...I hate you...You can't...nobody treats me...

He hangs his head sadly.

Klamor: This was supposed to be my day...

 

[Miko]

WZCW Backstage Area!

S.H.I.T makes it’s way through the busy backstage area, it has just competed in the Main Event of AfterShock but now the crewmembers are already preparing for All Or Nothing, many of them have to dodge the advancing machine as it shuffles up the corridor seemingly oblivious to all of them, S.H.I.T isn’t exactly oblivious, it just has no interest in any of this and is just heading for its destination, its home, it’s box.

A familiar figure turns down a nearby corner, stops and grins at the robot.

Greetings strange man who makes seemingly random appearances!

“Hello S.H.I.T” He replied, the grin still in place. “Congratulations for your win just now.”

How did you get past the security patrols?

“You’ll find that there aren’t many places I cant get into should it take my fancy.” He replied with a chuckle. “Besides, I just told the Security Guard that I am a wrestler and he let me in no questions asked, seems they are on edge about that sort of thing at the moment.”

With your moustache and immaculately styled hair it is very possible he believed you are one.

Both seemingly having exhausted their conversational abilities, they just stand in silence for a while, a crewmember grumbles as he pushes past the two “wrestlers” who are standing silently in the middle of the corridor, just gazing at each other. Finally before it gets a bit too awkward the other man pipes up.

“Lets go find somewhere to watch All Or Nothing, I have just the place, I have someone you might like to meet waiting for us.”

Who is this person?

“Just wait and see.” With that he turned and went the opposite way from which he came, leaving S.H.I.T with no choice but to follow in order to satisfy its curiosity, should there be any curiosity to satisfy. He leads the robot to a door but indicates that S.H.I.T should wait outside, he enters himself without knocking and there is a short pause, S.H.I.T waits outside dutiful as ever.

“Come in”

S.H.I.T turns the door handle and enters, inside the room is one sofa, pictures of Ty Burna, Black Dragon, Titus and replica championship belts decorating the walls, a drinks cabinet is in the far corner and a 25” Plasma Television set is on the wall in front of the sofa. The room is probably big enough for 15 people to stand shoulder to shoulder, currently however there is only one person standing in it, but a familiar one, the most familiar person S.H.I.T had ever known.

Gustav?

“Ze very same S.H.I.T!” He laughed, bounding up to the robot he throws his arms around it, S.H.I.T doesn’t reciprocate the hug, but the fact that it hasn’t thought of this as a wrestling match and isn’t body slamming Gustav on the floor might possibly indicate some sort of affection.

Where have you been located? S.H.I.T had predicted you had ceased to exist, had been terminated, disassembled, dead!

“Zat is a long story, vich I suppose you deserve to hear.” Taking a seat he prepares to elaborate. “It all started ven I vas called into S.H.I.T Industries for a progress report. Zey vere not particularly happy but I explained to zem zat vile you haff all ze wrestlink moves in your arsenal, you generally fall down on vere und how to apply zem. I said, “it is okay makink a wrestlink machine, but wrestlink is about more zan how many moves are in one's arsenal.” So after a long und heated debate I von zem over and zey vere prepared to give me more time.”

This story is on the positive side so far.

“Give me time, give me time.” Gustav replied irritably. “It is on my vay out I discovered something zat I vas never meant to see. On my first day you see I vas given some schematics for you, vich turn out to not be ze whole story, not ze whole truth. I found your true schematics S.H.I.T! You are a machine, built to destroy, ze first of many it would seem, you vere placed in WCZW to test your fighting skills, since wrestling companies are full of over ze top characters, people that appear out of ze darkness, assassins vith katanas, throw backs to ze 70’s und people vith multi personality disorders it vas decided zat your presence here vould draw little attention.”

S.H.I.T is not aware of these objectives to destroy.

“Nein, I don’t know why, somevere along ze vay you took up a nobler cause, and it became more about ze competition und not about destroying people. Zis makes S.H.I.T Industries. . . Unhappy, because you vere supposed to be a veapon, mass-produced und sold to ze highest bidder.
Ven S.H.I.T Industries found out zat I knew zis they terminated my employment, thus no longer protecting me from ze mob, I could not afford to make zis information public as I vould be found und shot, so I hid, knowing zat ze German Mafia have no interest in you and knowing zat S.H.I.T Industries could make no efforts to bring you back so long as you vere in ze public eye I decided it vas ze safest course of action.”

Remaining in the public eye certainly would have protected you also.

“Nein, nien, ze German Mafia do not care who zey hurt, villainous fiends zey are." He sits back and grins.

How did the man from the train station find you? Why are you wearing the same leather jacket, trousers and boots that he always wore? Where is he now?

A long pause.

“Zat is a lonk story for another day.”

WZCW All Or Nothing!

“Doesn’t zat annoy you?” Said Gustav, pointing up at the screen, currently showing Alex Steele hitting Ty Burna with a chair.

S.H.I.T does not feel anger.

Both of them are still alone and sat on the sofa watching the PPV event.

“Really? Does it annoy you that it could’ve been you in zat match instead of Alex Steele?”

Negative Gustav.

“What about Ricky Runn zen?”

Negative Gustav. S.H.I.T does not get annoyed. Why would Ricky Runn annoy anybody, except with his over the top disposition and constant use of the word dude?

Gustav laughs. “Are you sure he doesn’t? He debuted not all zat long before you did you know, his vin loss record vas terrible to behold, yet he is now a tag team champion all because he is beink carried by a veteran like Austin Reynolds, he is getting PPV time and. . .”

Some people have it better than others Gustav, this is the way of the world, this is what you taught S.H.I.T. Better what you would call a “good person” like Ricky Runn gets a chance than what you would call a “scheming, nasty piece of work” like Johnny Scumm gets that chance.

Gustav beams in delight. “This is why you are perfect, no ulterior motives, in a vay you are more honest than any human, you do not seek to deceive ze crowds, you do not pretend to love zem only to further your own career. People respond to zat S.H.I.T!” Gustav slaps his cohort on the back. “You may be odd, but people like odd, I vould be honoured to manage you again, zis could be a fresh start, to put my old vays behind me, what do you say?”

There is a brief pause.

Affirmative.

Gustav jumps out of his seat and fist pumps in the air. “YES!”

How would you manage S.H.I.T? You can not be seen in public.

“Oh I wont come down to ze rink vith you, zat vould be silly, but I can get in und out of here. It may surprise you to know this, but I am a master of disguise.”

No response.

“Very vell.” From seemingly thin air he produces a top hat and turns around; when he turns back he looks much the same as before except with a top hat and a monocle. “What do you think of that then old boy?” He said with a heavy upper class English accent.

S.H.I.T lunges forward, grasping the impostor by the neck it pins him against a nearby wall.

Who are you? What have you done with Gustav?

Though struggling to breathe the man in the top hat lets out a chuckle.

“Aha. . . *cough* good one old boy.”

Do not play games human! S.H.I.T lifts him from the ground by his neck. It will not end well for you!

“It’s me. Gustav!” He said, choking on his words. His feet kicking feebly. “Let me. . . down.”

Prove it!

“Fine German Beer. . . Fine German Beer.”

S.H.I.T lets go completely and Gustav falls bodily to the floor, he looks up at the robot with a mixture of disbelief and possibly some gratitude in his eyes. Finally he looks up to the television screen to see Baller pin Matt Tastic.

“Mr. Baller." His voice strained to say. "Bloody hell.”

The Gym!

The gym is that run down sort of place you’d expect a former champion boxer to go to, to get back to his roots. In the centre is a wrestling ring, the ring is currently occupied by a skinny wrestler in a singlet and S.H.I.T. The man in the singlet has been knocked to the floor but even as he rises to his feet, S.H.I.T bounces off the ropes opposite him and knocks him to the floor again with another clothesline.

“Thank you for your time Herr Congo.”

Gustav, still in top hat and monocle is standing outside the ring, next to him is a huge figure, at least 6’5 and heavily muscled, wearing only wrestling trunks and bright yellow arm tassels right down to his feet.

“Not a problem Gustav.” He seems to shout even when talking normally, with a deep guttural voice. “Colby Congo always has time to work with the wrestling machine. Even though Colby Congo currently holds 15 World titles in 12 different companies.”

S.H.I.T scoop slams his hapless opponent, before running the ropes again and hitting a running body splash on his fallen prey.

“Very goot S.H.I.T, very goot.”

“I remember working on the same WZCW All Stars Card as that one." He points at S.H.I.T. "Seems to me he is not quite so destructive as those days anymore. Which is good, fighting should be more about honour, not just physically destroying people.” Colby punches his huge fist into the palm of his other hand. “That is just a perk.”

“Strange isn’t it? How someone can change his nature.”

“Strange how a machine can change its nature you mean?”

“Hmm?” Gustav looks at the towering figure next to him. “Oh Herr Congo, he vas a volunteer.”

They both look at the robot in the ring, it’s opponent runs at it but runs straight into a flying shoulder tackle, throwing him across the ring. Gustav raises his hand, indicating that training is over for today. The robot stops, already to its feet stops it's attack. Colby grunts something and heads off to pick up the fallen competitor while Gustav stares at the figure in the ring, with its mouth permanantly contorted into a snarl and the glowing red eyes.

Gustav rubs his neck.

3G Achievement Unlocked! S.H.I.T now has 3 new signature moves.

As Gustav and S.H.I.T prepare to leave the gym, the robot suddenly turns to the strangely dressed German.

S.H.I.T is the same as a knife or a gun?

“Pardon me?” Said Gustav, obviously startled out of thought.

You are excused. S.H.I.T is only a tool of destruction?

"Vas! Vas a tool of destruction." He pats S.H.I.T on the back again, surely a force of habit by now. "Now you. . . No, we have a chance to rise above zat, ze things ve both used to be."

Wrestling will achieve this?

“Yes, wrestling will.” He said. “Face it S.H.I.T, you can’t leave zat place or you’ll be found, so you must wrestle. However, zis gives you a chance to brink happiness into peoples lives und not ze destruction zat ordinary veapons are only capable of.”

This can be achieved through a combat sport. This is logical, you have heard how the fans cheered when the "Super Hero" Titus finally won the World Heavyweight Championship from the grasp of the Barbossa's.

"Super Hero?" Gustav's voice was mocking.

S.H.I.T detect's scorn in your reply.

"Listen S.H.I.T. Zere is nothink in ze least bit super heroic about any of those men in zat company." He said sternly. "Rest assured, zat place is like a snake pit, some of zose snakes will bite you instantly, some vill try to get in your head first, others vill even try to decieve you into friendship. Ze result is always the same, you vill get bitten."

No response from the robot. Gustav decides to ease up a little.

“Look, ze roulette matches are comink up in a couple of days, you had better get back, stay sharp.”

S.H.I.T does not know who it is scheduled to compete against. Or the type of match.

“Zat does not matter.”

It doe. . .

Gustav smiles widely at the robot.

“Nein S.H.I.T, everyone is in the same boat, you are ready. It does not matter.”

 

[Lee]

It's night time in Keystone City, I look around and I notice that it's rather calm for once. I look and gaze at the full moon once again, the crisp air is something that is rare in this city but I love it. Where am I going? To my favourite bar in town a bar known as 'The Judge Sit', the name always struck me as odd as it should seat rather than sit. I walk in and see Jack who is quite an odd fellow and often mutters to himself. Behind the bar is the best barman in the world Clean John. I notice there's one person missing.

Titus: Where's Jonathan? I ask in a calm manner, for Jonathan to not be here on a Wednesday night would be like Baller beating Michael Jordan in a one on one game of basketball.

Clean John: He's in a bad way champ. The way he said that was far too calm, especially for John.

Clean John: He was beaten up this evening on the way here.

Jack: Yup. He was in a bad state, they didn't take anything from him though just a senseless attack for no reason. Jack finishes his pint and orders another, it seems this has hit him hard.

Clean John: What about you? That was one big weekend for you. That's why I love Keystone, it's a genuine concern with how I am doing not posing with my belt for a picture behind the bar. Not that it matters, he has plenty of those. I take a glance at the photo wall which shows many a great night and I crack a small smile.

Titus: How do you think I'm doing? I'm the Heavyweight champion of the woooooooooooooorld.

Jack: You shouldn't be. Ever scathing and possibly drunk the words hit me straight to the heart, before I could defend myself Clean John butted in.

Clean John: Now come on Jack he's just trying to have a drink here, there's no need to bring him down. I knew I could prove Jack wrong on his stance but John just suddenly upped the tempo. If I know Jack, which I do, that will infuriate him.

Jack: Lets look at the facts here. Dave wins the KFAD but somehow loses it to Kravinoff who then somehow manages to lose it to Toyota and Barbosa. After what seems an eternity Barbosa gets sole use of it. Then Ty is on a run challenging the likes of pretty much everyone whilst in turn you lose to Johnny Scumm. You somehow defeat Baez due to some sort of miracle and then you take on Barbosa. Dave wins the belt to rapturous applause but still you floated about. You could see where it was going a stint around the midcard but... Jack hiccups but that does not disrupt the flow of his rant.for some reason Barbosa wants a round two with you. I don't get why and I very much doubt he understands why as well, it's a tough one to work out. So you have the matches set for all or nothing which doesn't have Ty having one more rematch but rather Gordito getting another chance. Sounds like a suitable end but no. Kylie Minogue plays can't get you out of my head, Barbosa wins, Bateman bottles it and somehow you are put in a world title match. What point of that makes sense to you? I take a deep breath, it's either keep calm and carry on or to shout at this drunk fool.

Titus: I'm in a bar in Keystone City, Kansas. The town was most famous as the fictional home of the Flash in the D.C. Comics and it doesn't have much going for it in the long run. I'm a four time Oscar winner who became a superhero, was born in the UK and is now the world champion in WZCW and I class Keystone City as my home. Which part of that makes sense to you?

John looks like he's ready to burst out laughing at my bluntness but Jack should have expected it to be honest.

Jack: Yeah well erm but you erm won't last long.as champ.

As Jack slurred it gave me an opportunity to mask what I was feeling. He had hit the nail on the head. It's easy to win a title but to keep hold of it? That's something else. Yes Ty managed it for some time but long reigns for this belt are hard to come by, just ask Ricky or Will or Everest or Dave or Barbosa or even myself. One match is easy but when you have to have one, two, five, ten, fifteen and still winning that's the true mark. My fear is that I'll lose fairly quickly and start again from the bottom, something I've done one too many times.

Titus: I don't think that's going to happen, do you?

Jack: There's more chance of Newcastle beating Manchester United in the English Premier League than you having a long reign.

Jack was never one to pay attention as the screen above the bar had been playing the match all game. It was the 90th minute.

Clean John: Two goals to zero.

Jack: Yes but there has already been a tie between the two just like last season. Newcastle are winning by two but it was last year when Manchester won by three. Manchester are still the better team.

I chuckle as Tim Krul kicks the ball up the field, it bounces in the eighteen yard box and bounces off the head of Phil Jones and goes into the goal. That's Newcastle United three Manchester United nil.

Titus: I guess that means it's a clean slate then doesn't it?

Clean John: So you're getting the drinks in then Jack?

Jack grumbles as he orders another pint for himself and one for me. This should be exciting.

 

[Ty Burna]

The scene opens in a pitch black room. An illumination can be seen in the corner from a television or a computer screen, and a rhythmic tapping can be heard momentarily before stopping. The camera turns quickly towards the illumination, revealing Ty leaned back in an office chair with a pen in his hand. He spins the pen around his fingers absentmindedly as he stares straight forward at the computer monitor in front of him. His brows furrow as his eyes scan across the data on screen. He sets the pen down and begins typing feverishly as the scene goes black momentarily. A second scene suddenly flashes up, the large hall where Ty gathers the Apostles comes into focus. Ty sits at the bottom of the altar, a black kimono draped over his shoulders. His eyes are closed as the flames atop the candles begin to dance, casting shadows across the room. Ty slowly opens his eyes, a dim red glow circling them.

Ty: The line has been drawn in the sand. While those that are in power believe it to be permanent, it shall soon wash away with the tide.

Ty does not move from his position, yet he takes a deep breath, his energy refocusing. Slowly he reaches up and brushes his hair back, a few white hairs can be seen among the black tresses. His hand drops down to his lap once more as he begins speaking once more.

Once again Vance Bateman has interjected himself into my business. Once more he has caused my well laid plans to burn to ashes and yet, it was to be expected wasn't it Vance? In the great scheme of things ironically it was you, the same man who tortured my former associate Vengeance that has decided to set his eyes on the other end of the Dark Alliance. Do you believe yourself to be victorious in this matter Bateman? I don't roll over and die at your beck and whim like that fool Vengeance. I don't simply shrug my shoulders and I will never give you the opportunity to steal my rightful place at the top of WZCW. I have allowed you these small victories Bateman, but soon those victories will be meaningless. You will walk out with your smug look on your face, and announce the suspensions of the Apostles of Chaos and myself. But is that such a smart move Vance? The Chaos I bring is at least limited within the ring and in the back. Do you wish to see what insanity will begin when we are forced to the outside? No longer will we be shackled, and we will lay waste to the company from the outside. Regardless of what you believe is the right thing to do Vance, at the end of the day the Apostles of Chaos and myself will stand tall over the broken bodies we have disposed of. Your precious champions and your merchandise movers, all of them will wither as my foot is pressed firmly to their necks.

Ty begins laughing maniacally as he throws his head back, his hair cascading down his back and nearly reaching the floor. His arms slowly extend out as the kimono slides off his shoulders. The snake tattoo running down his arms and up around his shoulders slowly begin to shift and contort in agonizing ways. Ty pays no mind however to the shifting as he brings his head back up, the red glow now fully encompassing his eyes. A sneer forms on his face before he closes his eyes and his hands form into fists. The tattoo continues to shift and maneuver when suddenly Ty lets out a thunderous yell that echoes throughout the hall. The tattoos come to life as black mambas snap forward and begin hissing. The snakes immediately begin encircling Ty's arms, constricting immediately.

Just as these snakes slowly wrap themselves around my vital organs, so too will Chaos spread throughout WZCW, it's venom slowly luring the victims to near death, only to be digested as nothing more than nutrition for the maelstrom. Just as the charmer controls it's viper, so too will I lead the Chaos to its glorious revolution. It is just as I have intended, the hope of the many will be crushed by the will and power of the elite few. While the events of All or Nothing may lead you to believe that we are at an impasse, a setback is further from the truth Bateman. The losses were inconsequential, and soon I shall show the world just how little they matter in the long run. The final spot in the LL is worthless to me. I have outlasted far worse matches, destroyed men in two separate Cell matches, the Lethal Lottery will nothing more than a feeding ground for my Apostles and myself. As each eager and hopeful warrior is tossed aside, it will be come painfully clear to all that Chaos will have it's proper seat at Kingdom Come, just as it did last year, so too will it this year. There is nothing you can do to stop me Bateman. Myles has already made it clear he wants nothing to do with this battle, and soon your one advantage will become my own. Your world will be reversed and shattered shortly after Vance. I may not have my Ouija scroll anymore, but it does not take a soothsayer to see that this is a battle you will not win Vance.

Ty stands up and keeps his arms extended, the vessels in his arms slowly beginning to pop out from the pressure put forth by the snakes wrapping around his arms. The black mambas' heads reach Ty's neck, their jaws open and ready to strike into Ty's jugular. They suddenly snap forward and sink their fangs into Ty's neck, Ty throws his head back as he grabs hold of the snakes by their heads, the snakes slowly withdrawing their fangs. Ty drops down to his knees as he holds the snakes with his arms extended still. His head drops with his chin to his chest. His breathing becomes laborious as his arms slowly drop down to his sides, the snakes releasing their grip on his arms and slithering away. Ty suddenly slumps over, his head landing with a sickening thud on the wooden floor. The camera zooms in on his face, his eyes are wide open and blood begins pouring out from the top of his head as well as blood trickling out from his neck as well. The blood gushes down Ty's face and begins dripping off his chin to the ground, a puddle soon forming. Laughter can suddenly be heard as Ty's eyes begin to move back and forth and the sinister sneer forms on his face once more. His eyes remain wide as the laughter grows louder, coming closer until Ty's mouth finally reciprocates the sound.

There is no poison that can destroy me. There is nothing that I fear in this world. Whomever my victim or victims are, they will taste Chaos, and just as that fool Saxton realized, that I am vindictive. I will tear every limb off of your body if it meant getting just a taste of happiness from it. The blood of WZCW will be on my hands, a stain on my soul that will become the embodying trophy in my march towards complete dominance. With Chris K.O. becoming the King of Darkness, I shall become the Champion of Chaos, and shortly after, I shall become Chaos Incarnate! There is no one that can stop me, and they will soon bow down to my chosen king. Who shall be the hero that stops the Chaos? Our World Champion Titus? My former associate Gordito? The two men in Saxton and Saboteur my Apostles left crushed in the ring at All or Nothing? The Good Professor Kurtesy? They are all worthless in the eyes of Chaos, nothing more than pawns that shall soon become building blocks to the foundation of a new era, a new world that born from Chaos will quickly become perfection. So I ask you, will you stand in the way of progress, will you be a road block on the path to perfection? Or shall you fall in line and allow the darkness take firm hold within your mind and become perfect?

Ty slowly slides back from the wood floor, blood still pouring out of his head and neck. He reaches up and runs his hand down his face, wiping the blood from his face. He holds his hand out and a sick grin forms on his face as he gazes down at his soaked hand. His hand trembles slightly until he grips his hand into a fist, his hand now shaking violently until he opens it once more, a flame suddenly bursts from his palm. His whole hand becomes engulfed in the flame as he holds it out in front of his face.

With my own hand, I shall strike down all those that oppose this perfection we have been working so hard to create. With this hand I shall bathe the world in fire and toss the heretics head first into the brimstone. Soon I shall test my greatest Apostle, and he will learn what it truly means to be the King of Darkness. His anointing will toll the death bell, signaling the mass exodus over the River Acheron. The souls of the oppressed will cry out, their minds broken and altered to unspeakable forms. Their hallucinations will become my entertainment, their pain and sorrow my nourishment. I will become the blade that my chosen Apostle wields in battle, my very power becoming the pillar to his rule over WZCW.

Ty begins laughing maniacally once more as he brings the fire up closer to his face, the light shining into the depths of the red glow and yet somehow reflecting off it.

There is no mercy, there is no grace that your faith will spare you. There will be bloodshed, there will be misery, and amongst it all I shall stand as the epicenter of the Chaos that sweeps you all into the abyss. As the Incarnate, you will all bend your knee in recognition of myself as your god!

Ty suddenly thrusts his hand forward and the flame from his hand lashes out, completely overwhelming the camera. The feed goes black and static is all that can be heard. The static subsides and a faint heartbeat can he heard, this goes on for several moments when suddenly the first scene flashes back into the picture, this time Ty has his arm bent and his head resting against his fist. His eyes are closed as the heartbeat suddenly grows louder, soon reaching deafening levels. The camera zooms in on Ty's face as the warm glow of the monitor suddenly flickers out from the power save mode. Ty's eyes suddenly open and all that can be seen is the red glow from his eyes. The heartbeat suddenly stops.

The true beginning starts at Meltdown.

The feed goes silent, yet remains on as Ty's red eyes stare directly into the camera until slowly fading away.

 

[Awesome_Miz]

A Visit​

The scence opens up with a view of a jail. Standing outside of the jail is Darren Bull. He has a sinister smile in his face. The sign outside the prision reads Detroit Prision.

WOW!!! I never thought I would ever come to this digusting place. I can't wait to see the look on his face ,when he gets a look at me now.​

Darren goes inside the State Prison and there is an officer standing by.​

Good afternoon sir.​

Good afternoon officer, can you please let me in to see my father.​

Sure thing all I ask of you to leave is to leave some type of ID and the prisoner's name.​

OK, officer here you go and the prisoner's name is Jake T. Bull.​

Thank you, please just step through that door and the prisoner will be out in a mooment.​

Bull walks through the door and sits down near a visitor table while he waits the arrivial of his father. Meanwhile, he waits Darren starts to remember the death of his mother Michelle Bull.​

We go back about 15 yrs. back on Christmas Eve. Daren, Michelle and his little 5 year old brother Matthew Bull are seen decorating a Christmas Tree.​

A Younger Darren Bull: Hey little bro you should go upstairs so that way Santa Claus can come over to deliver our presents.​

Come on I want to stay up ,so I can see Santa and tell it to my friends back in school.​

Matthew you should listen to Darren. Go upstairs to sleep ,so tomorrow you can wake up and see all of your new toys.​

But mom I want to be able to tell of my friends that I saw Santa. You gotta understand that ,so can I stay up late.​

You know what Matthew if you go upstairs right now I'll tell you a Christmas story.​

Fine, but next year I'll stay up late to see my hero Santa.​

Matthew goes upstairs to wait the Christmas story from his big brother. Meanwhile Darren and his mother are still waiting for Jake to come home.​

I can't wait for dad to come home already. I'm so exciting cause I think this is going to be the best Christmas ever.​

Just at that moment we start to hear some shaggels from a near. Darren starts to come back to life and defines the man coming as his father.​

What took you so long old man?​

Darren's dad looks at Darren and can't seem to figure out who he is.​

Sorry for asking ,but do I know you?​

You got to be kidding me? It's me your big boy Darren.​

*With joy*. Is it really you my boy Darren?​

Uh... Duh. Who do you think it was Matthew?


Well, no he was actually here yesterday and only comes once a week.


What a idiot of him coming over here to see a scumbag like you.


I know that you don't love me the way you did before that dragic accident.


Accident!? Who are you trying to fool here? Cause you know as well I do that was no accident. You can try to blame it on anything you want but face the fact that you killed my mother that day.


Darren try to understand that I did that cause I had one too many drinks that night and didn't have my mind in the right place in the moment. If I had not drank that much that day none of this would have had happened.

Understand that you killed the love of your life. Who in their right mind would that? I know I wouldn't that sort of thing cause that is just plain stupid.

You should know that I wouldn't have done that if I were not intoxcated.

But yet you did that anyways. You killed the woman you loved but know I wonder if you ever loved her?

Don't ever question the love I felt towards your mother. She was the pride of joy of my life and now without her I just can't live with myself.

You should really stay here for life but the stupid judge gave 20 yrs. of prision.

I know that got lucky that day and I am truly grateful of that. In the short spand of 5 more yrs. I'll be able to leave this awful place.

With dissappoint in his face Darren tries to bare on with the conversation.

You know what dad I didn't come here to talk about mom or you.


Then what did you want to talk about son?


My debut.


What debut?

Smiling. The debut of me, Darren Bull in WZCW. I did something that you dream of doing and that is becoming a wrestler. I was hired by one of the biggest company in the wrestling world today.


That's really great I can't believe it. Are you any good at wrestling?

You make me laugh with such a idiotatic question like that. I defeated my opponent like nothing. The poor fool thought he could stand a chance against me.

That's really awesome and you know I would loved to be there live to see you in action. So, who is your next opponent?

Quite frankly I don't care who it is I face next cause they will get destroy by Darren "The Destruction" Bull.


Son you know I wish you the best of luck with your career.


You know what dad?


What is it?


Unlike you I won't screw up and kill this dream that I truely love.

The officer comes over to tell Darren sonething.


Sir, I'm sorry to inform you that visiting hours up. So, please leave as soon as possinle.


Fine officer, I was about to leave anyways cause it started to smell like douche in here.


Darren gets up from the where he was at.

Bye son please take care and stay out of trouble. You know I love you very dearly.


Bull stares at his watch to check the time. Then takes look at his father.

You know dad whatever I really don't care. I got to get up to a club. I bet you would kill to go to clubs but you can't rght?


You know I would love to do that but...

Just then the officer wals back in.

Please leave at this second sir.


With some tears on his face. Goodbye son.


Whatever, killer.


Sir please stand up so can take you back to your cell.


The scence closes with Darren's dad shaggles being heard all around. With him crying a bit cause he was able to see his son after 15 yrs.