The Random RP Thread

Here's the RP I wanted to post for this round, shorter than I expected, not my favorite, but it needed to written and posted.

The Misadventures of Krypto

Time for a Reboot?​

Krypto and his robot companion RJX9 are once again in a secluded area in a Children’s public library, a location that has become one of the “alien’s” favorite places to seek solace in.

RJ: My sensors are showing stress in you Krypto, are you not happy with your victory over Capone?

Krypto: Of course I’m happy, it’s just I’ve been given only a week to figure out who I want to face at All or Nothing and I think it’s pretty clear I’ve got no idea who I should choose.

RJ: How about the World Champion Showtime Cougar?

Krypto: No he’s busy taking on an Empire.

RJ: The legendary Titus?

Krypto: I think he’s injured, and if he makes it to All or Nothing he is then in a contest with one Chris K.O.

RJ: Fine how about challenging Saboteur and Saxton to a triple threat match out of respect?

Krypto: No that’s not possible they’re facing the men with masks and beards. Everybody is doing something interesting besides me! Was winning the Mentor Program the only thing I’m ever going to do? Why can’t I find an opponent?

RJ: There are plenty of guys/girls in the company that you can face at All or Nothing. My calculations say you should stop clouding your mind with foolishness and pray to the god Furon for the answer to your dilemma.

Krypto: I still have time to choose someone, I can’t let this problem steer me off who my opponent is this week.

RJ: Ah yes, your opponent on Meltdown this week is Connor Reese of STA.

Krypto: STA? I must google this acronym.

Krypto hops in front a nearby desktop computer and searches up the company at hand.

Krypto: It says on the website Wi-ka-pedia it stands for **** Training Academy.

RJ: Uh….wrong STA, according to my database Reese is a human from a company known as the Stark Talent Agency, a place that has also produced such WZCW talents Benjamin Hoss and Willhelm Wunderbar. Also my database says that Wikipedia is a very poor choice for finding certified information, it even says on the page you’re looking at that the Academy has closed down and gone under a reboot.

Krypto: What is a reboot?

RJ: The human English definition is to start anew with fresh ideas in a way that is consistent with the principals of the original, but not unnecessarily constrained by what has taken place before.

Krypto: So basically Connor Reese is just a slightly new idea from something similar that’s been done before?

RJ: No I wouldn’t say that, he’s just the product of a organization that produces a lot of talent.

Krypto: No think about it RJ, look at Reese, Hoss, and Wunderbar. They’re like slightly similar clones. What if every one of the STA members is all just one person constantly going through this thing you call a reboot? What if each of them was once molded for long term success but say the person in control of them either got burnt out or ran out of ideas after short term success and decided to give up on said person, come up with a new name and slightly different look and repeat the process?

RJ: Technically speaking you would be right Krypto, the STA members are products of one creator Alexander Stark. But I highly doubt humans have the access to cloning and appearance altering capabilities that we do.

Krypto: Still what if I am just like each of them: I have one small short term success goal and then I run out of ideas or burn out and I just constantly go through reboots for the rest of eternity?

RJ: Krypto I highly doubt anyone is in control of you besides yourself. There’s nobody writing your story and actions for you, no one person is typing the words coming out of your mouth on a computer somewhere and is suddenly going to decide one day he doesn’t want to.

Krypto: Fine even if that part isn’t true what if winning the Mentor Program is the only interesting thing I ever do?

RJ: It won’t be because according to some WZCW insiders the Program wasn’t even that interesting to begin with. People don’t remember the Joe Mason’s, the Arashi’s, Darren Bull’s, even Isabel Stone is basically an afterthought based on her injury. Fans and competitors in the back who would not have even given you a second look are now cheering your name and second guessing themselves that they ever doubted you.

Krypto: Do you seriously believe Connor Reese takes me seriously? There’s no way he thinks I’m even remotely a problem for him.

RJ: When are you going to realize it’s not about being taken seriously all the time? When I talked to you after Unscripted I tried to convince you to come back home because there was no way I believed you would be able to make it here on this planet competing in this sport. But recently you’ve changed my mind Krypto, you’ve come too far to let what some people think throw you off course. Don’t be what you think will get you farther in WZCW, just be yourself.

Krypto: You really think I can make just being myself?

RJ: Your father technically programmed me to cater to your every insecure need but even if that wasn’t the case I’m sure I’d still have faith in you.

Krypto develops a smile on his face and clutches RJ to his chest in a weird fashion in what we can only assume is a hug.

Krypto: You’re right RJ, I can’t quit now. My father, my family, my planet is watching me and rooting me on just like they have before, I’m ready for Connor Reese even if he doesn’t even know I exist. And I don’t need to convince people I’m serious 100% of the time, but I do need to show them I’m not the punch line of their horrible E.T. jokes. These are no longer my Misadventures, these are my Khronicles.

RJ: Interesting….did you find an opponent for All or Nothing yet?

Krypto: Not sure it will work out, but I definitely have a good idea of who I want to face.
 
Chapter One: Awakening​


Facing the second rope. Runn's legs around my head. Flipping. Landing. CRACK.

This is all I remember as I lay in total darkness, my neck filling me with pain. I'm tired of the pain. I want to feel something else. I need to get up and finish this match. But there's something in my arm I need to get out. What's happening? I open my eyes. White. The room is white. What happened to the arena? Wait, that's a light. A machine beeps next to me. I must be in a hospital. But I'm not alone. I flick my eyes to the left. A wall. To the right and there he is. Sleeping in a chair, looking peaceful and perfect. Justin. The man who hasn't left my side since we met. This might be love I'm feeling for him inside but Dad always said there was no room for love in wrestling. That I would one day have to make the same decision as Janet Van Degraff from "The Drowsy Chaperone." Business or love. Perhaps I could have both.

His beautiful eyes open and meet mine. They widen briefly and he's by my side.

Justin?

I even sound pathetic. What happened to me? What about my match?

I'm here baby. How do you feel?

I blink and move my head. Ugh! There's that pain again. And that damn machine is getting extremely annoying.

What the hell happened? Where am I?

We're in the hospital. Okay. Dumb question. You were facing Ricky Runn. He tried a RickyRana and-

Show me.

He has this look on his face now. I repeat myself louder. He knows where this is going. I will start screaming at him if he doesn't do it now. Usually he just kisses me to shut me up but today he pulls out his iPhone. Two minutes are wasted on him going on YouTube and finding the right video. He holds it up to my eyes as the video starts.

Connor: I see what you mean about doing whatever it takes to win...

Cohen: She planned that all along. I love it!

As Runn reels backwards, a quick flying headbutt to the gut puts the Daredevil down. Perhaps looking for a Kidney Check or even a quick Crash Course, Isabel rushes into one of the corners and ascends the turnbuckle.

However, she is not quick enough as Runn cuts her off, using the ropes for a step up enziguri, leaving Isabel straddling the top turnbuckle.

Connor: Ricky lost his inhibitions in a hurry!
Not wasting any time, Ricky then springboards off the second rope and wraps his legs around Isabel's head in an attempt for a modified RickyRana.

However, whether because of Isabel trying to counter or a failure in Runn's technique, the attempted RickyRana does not rotate far enough and rather than landing on her back, Isabel is spiked head first into the canvas from the second rope.

On impact, a sickening crack echoes around the arena, eliciting a massive groan from the audience but what is even louder is the shocked silence as it is immediately clear that Isabel is not moving.

Connor: Oh my god...

Cohen: Get help out here now!

The referee quickly moves in and almost immediately throws up crossed arms and tells Ricky to leave the ring. Within a few agonising seconds, several EMTs rush from the back and quickly get to work stabilising Isabel's neck with a brace and a back board.

Ricky stands outside the ring, watching the EMTs and medics work on the stricken Stone, a look of shock on his face and his hands clasped behind his head.

From Ricky's increasingly pale face, instead of turning back to the ring, the camera moves about seemingly aimlessly but not pointing towards the ring before moving to the commentary table. With Cat too shocked to speak, Jack Cohen takes over.

Cohen: Ladies and gentleman, this is a contact sport and people get hurt, sometimes accidentally, sometimes seriously. This is one of those times and for the sake of decency we here at WZCW are not going to subject you, the viewing public, to what is going on in the ring and will now instead cut to these messages.

As the camera fades out for the impromptu commercials, Cat stands up from her seat, takes off her head set and moves towards Ricky, putting an arm around his shoulders.
Click to expand...

There is a moment of silence between us.

Two.

Three.

HOLY SHIT. OH MY GOD I ALMOST DIED. WHAT THE HELL. WHAT WAS THAT. HOW THE FUCK DID I SURVIVE. OH. MY. GOD.

I think I handled it pretty well. I ramble on for quite a while before some fat ass nurse comes in, injects me with something and poof! Out like a light.

Damn hospital meds.

When I wake up again Justin is laying his head on my stomach. I always love when he does that. Makes me feel like I'm his central point for the thought process. I reach down and pet his long black hair. Maybe I'll get my red streek dyed teal to match his eyes. He mentioned once getting a blue streek to match mine. He looks up at me and lets out a sigh. He knows I don't apologize for anything (not even kicking his ass... Three times in a row) so he just kisses my fingers. Then my hand. Then my wrist,

Forearm.

Elbow.

Get the picture?

After he kisses my lips he lays his forehead against mine and sighs again. Then he opens his eyes and stares into mine.

What do you want Isabel?

I want for him to someday get on one knee and ask me to marry him so we can be happy together for the rest of our lives. I want my dad back. I want a WZCW title around my waist. I want my mom to get her ass kicked. I want my ex to break a leg literally. I want, I want, I want...

I want to know how soon I can be back in the ring.

Justin looks into my eyes for another moment then nods. He walks out to find a doctor and I am left alone. Physically alone at least. There is someone else in here, but I don't get to see him until everyone leaves me. In the middle of the night that is. Unless Justin figures out a way to be able to stay (who am I kidding? Of course he will!) I see my reflection and there he is, staring me back. Justin returns with the doctor who starts babbling about how it's great to see you awake, this is what's wrong with you.

Cut the crap Doc. When can I wrestle again?

Well, the issue is that we don't know how severe the injury was, but we're looking around mid-March, early April.

You guessed it! Moment of silence.

Two.

Okay, not this long, too long.

Well shit then.

I am sorry Isabel. But feel lucky. You could've died in that ring

He squeezes my hand then leaves. Justin sits on the bed and strokes my hair while I think. What am I feeling right now?

Pain. Anger. Helplessness. Confusion. Discomfort. Failure.

ANGER.

Only one person to blame for being in here. And his name is Ricky Runn. And that damn Sandy. If she hadn't been bugging me so much maybe, just maybe I would've been more focussed and could've avoided this disaster. I look at Justin. He looks back.

You asked me wanted earlier. I want to be champion. I want my Dad back. I want to someday marry you. I don't want you to feel obligated to run out and buy a ring because neither of us are ready for that, and we both know it. And right now, what I want more than anything else is one thing:

Revenge.
 
Chapter Two: Recovery​

Physical therapy was a pretty awful thing when you were trying to get back to what you were doing. They tell you you should be good in a day or two then have you come back next week. Yesterday's was no exception. And I was tired of this. I got up from my window-seat perch and went down to the house's make shift gym. Justin (my wonderful boyfriend) was waiting inside, like he knew I would come down here. What can I say, he was a former cop.

Hey sweetie. Care to join me today?

I know what you're thinking and you're not ready.

What? How would you know, it's my body, not yours.

I walk over to the bench press and put it at 150 lbs. then start to do presses. I am taking it easy for the most part, but I push myself a little harder every day. I mean, yesterday I was doing 125, now I'm at 150. I'll be back at WCZW in no time at this rate.

Because I know you. And I see that look in your eye. You're becoming obsessed.

Obsessed? Seriously?

Yes obsessed. You're pushing yourself to get back to normal without giving yourself time to heal up. I know you love wrestling and WZCW, but have you seen yourself? You look like a ghost! You're losing weight and you have this look in your eye. It scares me Izzy. You're hell bent on revenge for what Ricky Runn did to you and I get that but you're letting it take over.

I gently put the press back into its cradle then sit up and look at Justin. He looks angry and nervous. I don't like it.

So what do you want me to do about it? Justin he almost took away my career! And it barely started! I was just getting ready to take care of Sandy and then he tried to break my

He didn't try anything Izzy! He tried to beat you in a match! What happened was an accident. It was a serious accident which you told me yourself happen all the time in wrestling. But you're not broken. You're still in one piece and you're barely even hurt. But if you keep pushing yourself towards revenge you will break yourself and where will that leave me? I love you Izzy, but if you can't control all this anger inside of you...

Then what? You'll leave? Go ahead. Go! You don't know what it's like for me right now. All I can hear is the crowd supporting Runn as he goes to the ring, while I lay in a bed helpless and weak. I can hear that snap of my neck as my head slams onto the ring mat. Then silence, so much silence. And I can see my Dad staring at me, disappointed in me for not dodging it, not being fast enough. I have to prove them wrong. Everyone thinks I'm done, that I'm not coming back. And if you can't handle me doing what I do best then your three little words mean zilch. And you can go if that's what your threat was. Because all that matters is getting Ricky Runn. All that matters is snapping him, making him lay ion darkness then wake up unable to move without pain. That's what he did to me, and if I break myself making sure that karma bites him on the ass, so be it.

Justin stares at me for a while. I know it's over. I love him but everything I said is true. And if he can't handle me focussing on something and giving my everything to make it happen then he doesn't belong in my life. It's a hard truth, but it's the truth. I've speant my entire life with people who thought that they could best me because they were bigger. Everyone thinks that a simple good deed makes them a good person, and I'm the only one with balls enough to tell them otherwise. Justin thinks that by helping me and not being a bastard to other people, that has made him into a good person. He is a good person, but it's not that simple. Back to reality. He looks at me for a good five minutes before speaking.

I was going to say I would check you into a mental hospital since you're not right in the brain but if you want me to go I'll go. There's no time for me in the oh so glamorous life and mind set of the great Isabel Stone so I might as well go anyway. But those three little words aren't zilch. I mean them with every fiber in my being. I always have and always will. But the Isabel I love isn't here it seems.

He gets up and starts to leave the room. I let him. I sit there as he goes upstairs, throws a bag of his stuff together and comes back down. I watch him move towards the door and I feel a hard pain in my chest. It's the feeling of loss. I haven't felt this since Dad died and I don't want to feel it again. Not after all the physical pain. I stand and try to keep my voice strong but it comes out as a whimper.

Justin.

He stops, his hand on the doorknob and looks at me. His face tells me he's done and is leaving for good. His eyes tell me I've broken his heart and he's tired of the pain too. The sharp breaths he's giving off show me this is hard on him too. And his hand on the doorknob tells me that he won't wait much longer. My vison blurrs and something wet slides down my cheeks. I don't want to lose him. Not like this. But I can't stop him so I sit down and fight the stupid tears with both my hand and my heart. I'm better than this, right?

Strong arms suddenly wrap around me and I look up into Justin's blurred face. He wipes my cheeks and I stare into his beautiful eyes. I don't know what to say to himto make him stay, and the tears keep coming. I look away and wipe my face again. He's right. I am getting obsessed with getting revenge on Runn. But I can't stop. Not now, not when I'm in so deep. My some what sore neck tells me I can't stop. My brain tells me I can't stop. But my heart is screaming for me to slow down. If Justin weren't leaving me right now I would laugh over the fact that he pretty much own my heart at this time. Everything else is for wrestling but my heart is all his. He pulls me close and strokes my hair and my voice squeaks out again.

Please don't leave, I can't... I can't lose you too.

With that little phrase my focus on beating those tears breaks and I start crying. With everything gone, Justin is the one thing I would lose everything for. He kisses my head and wipes my tears while I cry onto his shirt.

I'm not going to leave you Izzy. I'm going to stay.

I almost cry again but instead grip to him. He picks me up and carries me to the bedroom where he lays me down and holds me in his arms, rocking me into a somewhat deep sleep.

My Dad catches my eye in the mirror as we go by. He's not happy about my weakness.
 
5... 4... 3... 2... 1...


Instead of an entrance video, the titantron remains blank until it’s replaced by Connor Reese standing backstage, microphone in hand.

Reese: Do I have everyone’s attention?

He starts walking towards the ramp, passing by anxiously waiting wrestlers and production staff alike.

Reese: A year ago, I put this company on notice. Things were going to change, the future is here and its name is Connor Reese. Well, here we are 12 months later and nothing’s changed.

Reese steps through the curtain and onto the ramp, stopping at the top.

Reese: Sitting atop their ivory tower sit the same men, trading the title between themselves. When one steps down to rejoin the masses, another one in their image is selected, and so the company stagnates. Talented people like Triple X and Saxton are thrown pyrite for their work, distracted from what they hoard until they burn out or get better offers. People are calling for Smith and Rush to ascend the tower. They’ll be calling for it next year too, count on it.

Reese pauses, taking a deep breath to control himself.

Reese: People like The Gent’s inferior imitator get rewarded for incoherence over substance, but when the time comes to make something out of himself outside the guttertrash division he’ll follow the path of Alex Bowen. Defined, stigmatised and impeded by his reign. Those crowned with barbed wire grow stale and rot, while his former supporters are fawning over the next fool to play the same game.

Reese smirks, his disdain for Vega well known.

Reese: Those few who try to break the mould? Left to fight the faces that drove Black Dragon from the company, yet consider Thrash and Donny J worthy of contracts. You can try to reinvent yourself. I did, three fucking times, for all the notice it got. You see, people don’t want to see change, they’ve been conditioned to the overlong status quo. That’s why Ty Burna can be put in a casket and set on fire and still have half the midcard built around him.

Reese removes his jacket and begins slowly waking to the ring.

Reese: A year ago I was naive enough to call myself the future of a company without one, the cure to a terminal disease. I have learned better. I’m tired of working around the whims of WZCW. Connor Reese is finished. The STA will never be mentioned again. The lessons I’ve learned from the last year will be taken in. The rest? Wasted time and effort. Consider me a new man, the lottery lethal for Conner Reese. From now on, I am a new man. I crown myself Rex King, hallowed be my name. Until Kingdom Come...

Rex King drops the mic and slides into the ring.
 
Just so everyone can see it, here's my Lethal Lottery RP:



Derek Jacobs is alone.

The last time that Dr. Pain was seen on WZCW television, he was getting waffled in the head by a steel chair for the second time, accidentally (so it seemed) by Mason Westhoff, his partner in The New Church. That was Feburary 10, two months ago. In those two months, Derek Jacobs has felt a lot of emotion. He's obviously felt pain, the chairshot giving him a severe concussion and putting his wrestling career in jepoardy. He's felt anger, mostly at himself for not getting out of the way quicky enough. But lately, Derek has been feeling a new emotion. One he's quite not used to.

Fear.

You see, Derek has been having nightmares. Ever since that night two months ago on Ascension 59, he's been having the same dream. It happens every single night. He's walking down to the ring with a chair in his hand, ready to gain revenge and retribution on all those that have done him wrong, when suddenly a wall of fire bursts forth, cutting him off from his goal.

Then the laughter starts.

Blood-chilling, high pitched laughter.

The last thing Derek sees before waking up in his hospital bed, screaming for the dream to be over is a chair of fire being swung at his head, by a faceless man.

It's with this in mind that we find Derek Jacobs, finally released from the hospital, hailing a taxi. The fact that he has to hail a taxi seems a little strange to Derek, given the conversation that he and Brother Mason Westhoff had just a day prior.

Mason had told Derek that even though the New Church was no more, that he still considered Derek a brother and would be there whenever he was needed. But Mason's cell phone was disconnected? Strange. "Oh well", Derek thought. "It's like I've never taken a taxi before. Mason probably had to change his number because of everything that went down with the church."

A short time later, Derek arrives at his destination, the apartment paid for by Mason in Texarkana when Derek first came to town. Retrieving his key, Derek goes to unlock his door, relieved to finally be home. Except there's just a small problem. The key won't unlock the apartment. Thinking that there must be some mistake, Derek goes downstairs to the front desk of the complex where he receives some surprising news.

Mason Westhoff quit paying for that apartment almost two months ago. The last payment was made on February 10, the day of Ascension 59."That lying son of a bitch!" Derek thundered. "He knew all along what he was going to do! After all the work, the blood- MY BLOOD! This is how he repays me?" Derek storms out of the Apartment building into the night. The next day, Derek Jacobs is riding in another taxi in another city, his city. The place he threw away for the "good of The New Church" as Westhoff put it: Chicago, Illinois. Derek is here because if there's one person that can help him right everything that is wrong in his life, if there's one man that can help Derek turn his life around, it's the man he's going to see today. A man whom Derek turned his back on when he joined The New Church.

James Parker.

As the taxi pulls into the driveway of the large mansion overlooking the Chicago skyline, Derek finally feels at home. It was here, in the massive basement of this house that Derek first honed his skills that he would use in WZCW. It was here that he felt at home after college, and Derek knew without a shadow of a doubt, that even though things were bad between James and himself, given the opportunity, they could be made right. Unfortunately, Derek would never get that opportunity.

As James' wife opens the door, there is a look of utter sadness etched on her face as she falls into the arms of Derek.

"Derek!" She sobs into his large chest. "I didn't know if you got my message or not. I'm so glad that you were able to make it. Even though you and James had a falling out, he wanted me to tell you that he loved you, and that he had forgiven you."

"Wait. What?" Derek asks, his face a mask of confusion, and in the back of his mind, before Alison says it, he knows.

"Derek, James died yesterday of a massive heart attack."

In that one moment, this mountain of a man that has ruined the lives of competitors inside the squared circle, falls to his knees and begins to weep.

As Derek leaves the Cemetery, he feels more alone, and afraid, than he has felt in his entire life. He had made it home in time for James' funeral, and Alison had insisted that Derek be the one to deliver the eulogy, even in light of their falling out. "It's what James wanted." She said when Derek asked why.

As Derek stood up to speak, he felt as if the entire world were on his shoulders.

"James Parker was many things to many people. He was a husband, a businessman, a son, a brother. To me, he was a friend, a confidant, someone that I could trust. "

"Even though it wasn't by blood, James was my father." As Derek continues speaking, the tears that he has tried to fight back begin to flow freely, and he doesn't care that so many people are seeing him cry.

"The last time that James and I spoke, he said that the Derek he knew was dead and gone, and he was right. I was blinded by power, and the high that men get off of that power. I don't know how long it will take, but James, I promise you that I'll find myself again."

Derek then walks in front of the casket, and one last time whispers to his friend,

"I'm sorry. I love you."

A short time later at a bar, Derek is trying to drink himself into a coma it seems. But no amount of alcohol in the world can take away the pain and bitterness that Derek feels. Underneath it all, though, a new emotion is starting to burn through.

Rage.

As Derek sits on his barstool pounding another beer, a commercial on the TV in the corner of the room catches his eye.

" WZCW presents Lethal Lottery 2013 live from Chicago,Illinois! All of your favorite superstars will be there! Including WZCW World Champion "Showtime" David Cougar, Triple X, Saxoteur, Mason Westhoff and Grand Mystique, The Sacrificial Altar, and many more! Live on Pay Per View!" A shot of 30 superstars, including Mason and Mystique, in the ring at the same time fighting it out is the last image on the screen before the commercial ends.

At that one moment in time, Derek knows what he needs to do.

Lethal Lottery is coming to Chicago. Derek Jacobs will be there.

And Mason Westhoff and Grand Mystique will pay.

But, you see, Derek isn't a stupid man. Even as big as he is, as strong as he is, going against The Sacrificial Altar two on one would be suicide. Derek needs someone to watch his back, and he has the perfect person in mind.

At Lethal Lottery, Derek Jacobs hopes to begin phase one of his plan. At Lethal Lottery he will shock the world by entering the match, and he will gain his first measure of revenge on Mason Westhoff and Grand Mystique. Phase two will begin just as soon as Derek can prove to Mikey Stormrage that he is a changed man.

That will be the hard part, but it can be done. And once it is, Derek Jacobs, and Mikey Stormrage will end The Sacrificial Altar once and for all.

And you can bank on that.
 
* We zoom in to an interviewer for the local newspaper, named Murphy, walking up a dark driveway, secluded from whatever little civilization there is to be found in the outskirts of Portland, Oregon. The writer walks up, noting that the lights leading up to this house are dimmed, as if they hadn't been changed in months. Some lights are completely out, with a noticeable amount of dust on the bulbs.

"For a therapist, he probably has enough money to keep his house a little more.... comforting."

* More like, not make me feel like I'm walking into the Mouth of Hell, thought the journalist. He kept this thought to himself; after all, at a house like this, God knows what's hanging around here, and what the owner has in place. Still, he thought, isn't a therapist's job to make the patient feel at home? And for that matter, what type of therapist has his patients meet him at his house? He walked up to the house; it looked like someone hadn't been living here for years. Of course, he heard that this doctor had just moved in, and perhaps he was just getting his bearings. Besides, this was the only piece available, and he really needed the money. So talking to a doctor who moonlights as a therapist can't be that bad.

Oh come in, why, I've been waiting for you
Oh, come in, come in, please come in, won't you?

*Well... Ok, he's a little eccentric. So what? Murphy opens the door

I'm... I'm here for the Portland Tribune

Oh, I know who you are, and know what you do.
Please, won't you come out of the dark, won't you?
Don't mind the mess, I just moved to the place
And it would be nice to see a warm face

*Murphy breathed a massive sigh of relief; he was right. He walked into the house, and had a seat in the somewhat barren formal living room. He noted how huge the room was, and most importantly, noted the portrait of Sisyphus on the wall. He still had yet to actually see the doctor, but noted a light which came from the kitchen.

Can I interest you in milk or tea?
You must have traveled so far to see me.

*He was somewhat parched. And the doctor seemed inviting.

Um... I'll take tea, sure. Thank you.

*The doctor walked into the room, with two cups of tea in hand. He was a big guy; surely seemed big enough to be a wrestler. Murphy took a sip of his teas; Chamomile. There seemed something fitting about a doctor bringing a tea to settle anxiety.

So, you must have questions you'd like to ask
Writing seems an unenviable tasks
So I'll answer away, just as you please
And I can help you with general ease

Thanks for your time, I, uh... I couldn't help but notice you like to rhyme. I'm a writer, I appreciate that. How did you learn that?

Oh, you could say it's an acquired trick
A hobby of mine, I picked it up quick

Gosh... I wish I had that kind of free time. So, I see you're a doctor, but you're going into wrestling. Kind of a dramatic change of career, right?

Oh gosh, not at all; you must understand.
I got burnt out from the stress and demand.
This makes me happy, it puts me at peace
It's a rather nice form of stress release

Well, I'm sure that makes sense, but didn't you enjoy helping others? I mean, being a doctor, I'm sure there's a certain trust that-

Patients, you can never, no never, trust
You must keep your guard up, you simply must
Oh, your patients may seem perfectly well
And come back tomorrow and give you hell
They're simply vile people, surely you'll see
They're just not like you, and just not like me

.... Ok, pretty strong stance there. Um, if they were so vile-

Can I help you at all; freshen your tea?
Maybe some lemon for vitamin C?

No, no thanks.

You seem rather nervous, is that the case?
Young man, it's written all over your face.

No... No, just tired, really. Anyway, that's a really strong stance to have for someone that worked with people with mental disorders. Why would you work so close to people that you seem... Well, frankly, dislike?

I never meant to offend or displease
I mean... Do you have a mental disease?

I... I think that's a little prying. But no, I don't.

Oh, are you sure you're not lying to me?
I've heard it might run in your family.
Parents with bipolar, grandparents, too.
You're sure the disease didn't pass to you?

* Murphy looks on in complete shock, as he's near paralyzed with fear. What? How could he-

Let me guess, "how could I possibly know?"
Oh, I'll tell you how, I will tell you so
You see, I did research before you came
And it seems that you should have done the same.
I know all about your dad's suicide
Abandoned you by chugging cyanide?
Your mother was grieving and did the same?
And left you with nothing but your last name?

*The shock of this doctor knowing so much forces Murphy to cough uncontrollably. It's like his lungs are filling with water, and every attempt at breath becomes more labored. He reaches for asthma pump, only to find it's not in his pocket. He starts to panic.

You shouldn't be sad, and I'll tell you why
You're going to see them; you, too, will die.

*Murphy continues to struggle, and lunges towards Dr. Zeus, offering wild, yet weak swings. Zeus dodges them effortlessly, almost mocking the man. It isn't a sign of mockery, though; all he wants is to watch the color in the reporter's eyes fade. When he's satisfied, Murphy applies Euthanasia, and gently lowers him down. Zeus laughs to himself, and looks down a the pad of paper that Murphy dropped.

Well, let's finish this, so you can get paid.
Oh, just one more question; "are you afraid?"
Why, certainly not, I think you'll agree
That everyone should be afraid of me
 
Theron's Merry Band of Misfits


RED = Theron (Male Fire Genasi Warblade)


BLUE = Davivel (Male Drow Cleric)


PURPLE = Marazarra (Female Halfling Rogue)


PINK = Kirilah (Female Aasimar Paladin of Mystra)


DARK RED= Keifasar (Male Tiefling Necromancer)


ORANGE = Jesseron (Male Human Monk)


OLIVE = Sheshmish (Male Orc Swashbuckler)


GREEN = Kayrentia (Female Half Elf Druid)


TEAL = Shrevi (Male armored ally of unknown character class and race)


GREY= Everybody else




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k86c.png




It had been 4 months since Theron and his merry band of misfits had returned from the Shadow Realm after slaying the dark dragon, Despair. Theron had written letters to his companions he had adventured with. Part of it was due to nostalgia, but the other reason was that he needed their help once again. He sat quietly that evening in the tavern of the town Wheloon in Cormyr. As he enjoyed his drink at the bar he wondered if they would come. He missed each of them, even Keifasar the Necromancer who Theron had often disagreed with during the party’s previous adventure. It was then that the door to the tavern opened, and in walked the Drow cleric Davivel, one of Theron’s former companions. Davivel sat down next to Theron.




Theron: Davivel! You made it! Any word from the others?


Davivel: They should all be in town by now. Tell me about this new quest.


Theron: I’ve been hired once again by that wealthy politician, Redbeard.


Davivel: The one you accused of being a liar because his beard is white instead of red?


Theron: Yeah him. That dishonest jerk…. Anyways. He approached me the other day with an opportunity. Monsters have been seen in the ruins north of town and they reportedly have been acting very strange. Redbeard wants me to investigate. The last time we inspected an ancient ruin we ended up in the Shadow Realm.


Davivel: Fair enough. I’m in. I assure you the others will be too.


Theron: Granted, we would have never ended up in the Shadow Realm had Sheshmish not thrown his cannonball into the vortex, but after that last quest, I learned the hard way that anything could happen in an ancient ruin. Where IS Sheshmish, anyway? Are the others coming?




The door is kicked wide open as an Orc enters with a half elf and a Halfling. It is Sheshmish, Kayrentia, and Marazarra. Each a former member of Theron’s party. They make their way over to the bar once they notice Theron and Davivel.




Theron: There you three are. Sheshmish, you look angrier than usual. Is everything alright?


Sheshmish: I’ve been better. I’m still angry about that dragon destroying my boat.


Kayrentia: You’re still mad about that? It’s been several months!


Theron: Hey, you got the last laugh dealing the final blow to the dragon in the end at least.


Sheshmish: That’s not going to bring back my boat though!


Kayrentia: I thought Keifasar was the one who killed the dragon.


Theron: Keifasar? He just sat there the whole time talking to the floating skulls! Shrevi, Sheshmish, and I were the ones who dealt damage to Despair.


Davivel: Let's go sit over there in one of the booths. There's not room for all of us at the bar.


Marazarra: Not to mention that Sheshmish might break the bar stools if he sits on one!


Sheshmish: Hey! I resent that!




They all move over to a booth in a corner by the entrance. Theron and Davivel are on one side while Sheshmish and Kayrentia sit on the other side. Marazarra pulls up a chair by the side of the booth to sit in.




Theron: I've missed traveling with all of you, but the truth is that I need your help again. I hope to re-recruit the entire team for this quest, including Keifasar.




A voice was heard humming obnoxiously outside as the Necromancer Keifasar peeked his head in through the doorway.




Keifasar: Someone say my name?


Davivel: Get in here, we’re waiting for you. Wasn’t Shrevi with you?


Keifasar: Not at the moment.




Keifasar enters and goes up to the others. He pulls up a chair to the left of Marazarra, but faces it backwards and sits down to join the conversation.




Keifasar: Shrevi is in my caravan. I have him guarding the gold.... and he is also guarding the candlestick!


Theron: I don’t even want to know.


Keifasar: Sure you do!


Theron: No…. I don’t. That just leaves Kirilah and Jesseron if Shrevi is at the caravan.


Keifasar: They were right behind me, they stopped at Redbeard’s manor on the way over here.


Davivel: Funny you should mention Redbeard.


Marazarra: Did Theron give him a hard time about having a white beard as opposed to red again?


Theron: Well, yes, I couldn’t resist. Regardless of that recurring insult to him, he hired me to investigate suspicious monster activity in the ruins north of town. Are any of you interested?




They each nod in unison and begin engaging in small talk amongst themselves. A few minutes later, the remaining members Kirilah and Jesseron enter the room. The two approach the rest of the group at the booth.




Theron: What took you guys so long?


Jesseron: Redbeard was in such a bad mood, you really ticked him off with those jokes about his beard not being red. He took it out on us even though we had nothing to do with it.


Kirilah: After yelling at us for YOUR jokes, Redbeard hired the two of us to investigate the northern ruins. Turns out the local monsters have been acting very strangely. Do any of you want to come?


Theron: Way ahead of you. I’ve already recruited them all for that same exact quest. Redbeard had asked me to do it, that’s why I contacted you all.


Sheshmish: When do we leave?


Theron: First thing in the morning. Let’s relax, catch up on old times, and enjoy ourselves tonight.




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Hours later, in the real world, Theron Daggershield (a human student turned pro wrestler, real name Shawn Daggers) had taken a walk down to the local gas station to get some snacks. Having learned he would soon make his pro wrestling debut in WZCW, he decided to brag a little to the clerk, who knew him well from their frequent discussions of wrestling. He grabs a bag of M&M’s and a Slim Jim to purchase.




Theron: So have you heard the news? I finally made it! I’ve become a pro wrestler!


Clerk: You made it into WZCW?


Theron: Yeah. I’ll be making my in-ring debut soon. Be sure to watch it.


Clerk: What will you be doing?


Theron: I’m participating in an upcoming tournament.


Clerk: Cool. That’ll be $2.50 for those.




Theron takes out his crimson d20.




Theron: Wait….




Theron rolls his d20, it lands on a 19.




Theron: That’s a 19 on a Charisma check to convince you to not have to make me pay for those.


Clerk: What? This isn’t D&D man, that doesn’t work in real life.


Theron: Hold on…. I’ll roll for your Sense Motive check.




Theron rolls his d20, it lands on a 5.




Theron: You only got a 5. You didn’t notice that I was bluffing, therefore I didn’t have to pay for it.


Clerk: That…. Doesn’t…. Just take your candy and get out of here.




Theron leaves with his snacks, having not paid a cent for either of them. He makes it back to his apartment.




Theron: You only debut once…. I have to keep training so I can mentally prepare myself. I know just the thing!




He opens up his monster manual.




Scene fades to a forest. Theron in his D&D form takes his Falchion in one hand and his Great Axe in another. A montage plays out of him making short work of a seemingly endless army of goblins while Dragonforce’s Disciples of Babylon plays in the background, ending on a freeze frame of Theron posting after vanquishing the goblin horde, posing and holding his each of his two weapons high up in the air with a grin on his face.




WATCH THERON DAGGERSHIELD MAKE HIS DEBUT IN THE UPCOMING TOURNAMENT!




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Until next time....
 
AND SO OUR STORY BEGINS:​

Fallout didn't know what to quite make of America yet. The ignorance, bigotry, greed and cowardice of the inhabitants made him sick to the skin. It was everything that he despised in humanity. Unstable as Fallout was, he was a man that played by his own rules and his own morals.

But on the other hand, it was an escape route, a contingency plan to finally get his life back on the rails, back to his life before the explosion, before the Spetsnaz, before all this happened. But the damage had already been done. Fallout was a psychological and mental wreck.

He leaned upright inside his tattered bed, located in a rundown, derelict motel.
Outside, a thunderstorm could be heard, with the rain hammering down on the metal plated roof of his room. A miniscule gap between the plates allowed for the water to slowly but repetitively drip through the ceiling, creating a puddle at the foot of his bed.

Fallout slowly turned to face the aged clock flimsily hanging against the wall. He couldn't quite make it out at first, but a burst of lightning in the distance lit up the room temporarily, allowing him to read the time as 5:14 am on a Thursday morning.

Groaning, Fallout began to talk to himself in his raspy, Russian accent as he gradually rose from his bed and entered a standing position.

"I had to scavenge...for a place like this. A boring, ruinous shithole of a place like this."

Fallout began to stretch and continued his monologue.

"Even Russia was better. Russia brought a degree of excitement to my life. Russia allowed me to be fully footloose. Russia allowed me to wreak havoc."

Fallout reached out for the light switch, and flicks it on. A crowd of moths immediately retraced from their hiding positions and began to ominously circle the light bulb.

"But that's behind me. This is a fresh start, a fresh chapter in the life of Viktor Petrov."

Fallout suddenly became very angry with himself for daring to bring up his original name.

"YOU ARE NOT VIKTOR PETROV!" he bellows at himself. "YOU ARE FALLOUT! NOTHING MORE! NOTHING LESS!" as he threw a terrible blow with his fist against the wall, causing the already loose lightbulb to shake and fall out of its socket. It hit the floor hard and shattered into multiple small shards of glass.

"FUCK THE GUIDELINES, FUCK THE CODE OF CONDUCT! MAKE NO MISTAKE, I WILL ASPHYXIATE ALL OF THE SELF-RIGHTEOUS, DISCRIMINATING BASTARDS AND I WILL MAKE THEM SUFFER!"

He then grabbed his bed and with ease he hurled across the room. As it collided against the wall, it created a cacophony that spread immediately throughout the room. Fallout could be heard breathing very heavily and quickly in his raspy manner. He then began rapidly clawing at his face shouting "THE MASK! THE MASK! THIS IS ALL BECAUSE OF THE FUCKING MASK!"

A knock could be from the neighbouring room before a sharp, grumpy Cajun voice could be heard saying "Y'all might be wanting to shut up, I'm trying to get some sleep here!"

Fallout reacted violently to this, screeching loudly at his interrupter.

"AHH YES, YOU'VE GOT A PROBLEM WITH ME, JUST LIKE THE REST OF THIS SCOURGE KNOWN AS HUMANITY! I'M USED TO THAT MYSELF! BUT THE FACT OF THE MATTER IS, YOU THINK YOU'VE GOT PROBLEMS?! YOU'RE NOT EVEN CLOSE TO HAVING PROBLEMS LIKE I DO! BUT HOW ABOUT I MAKE SOME FOR YOU!? I WILL PERSONALLY INCAPACITATE YOU TO WITHIN AN INCH OF YOUR LIFE SO YOU UNDERSTAND THE TRUE DEGREE OF MY SUFFERING! DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR, HUMAN!" as a flash of lightning struck at that very moment.

In the middle of his rant, the Cajun uttered "Poor bastard." before beginning to try and get to sleep again. Fallout didn't notice as he was continuing his tirade.

Fallout began to shiver and then sat down in a crumpled heap on the floor. The once-derelict room was now a complete wreck, with dressers toppled, the lightbulb broken and the bed leant against the wall. The only thing that could be heard was the water hitting the roof and the dripping, and the occasional sound of thunder. Fallout felt as if he was about to cry. After a pause he put his hands over the goggles of his gas mask.

"Easy now." he said quietly, but with some confidence. "I don't want anymore attention do I? I don't want the same shit that happened in Russia. I don't...I don't want to be a target again."

Fallout stood up slowly before leaning against the wall and again engaged himself in conversation "Think about it. A career in WZCW. Most of those humans would die for that. I can put the past behind me now. I did a good job yesterday containing myself. I need to continue like that."

He then began to survey the damage, and calculate and analyse it inside his head. Fallout often saw this as a way to improve, as a sort of feedback. He saw himself very much like an artist looking at the completed product and wondering what he could potentially try next.

"Just look at what I'm capable of, without even being motivated. My strength, my perception, my endurance and my agility are all superb. Just think about what it will be like in the ring, when I'm motivated, and when I'm ready to fight."

Behind the mask, for the first time in a long time, Fallout let out a smirk. Any chance of inflicting pain for Fallout was a stimulant to his mood.

"Those bastards are in for a big surprise."
 
The scene begins in a musty-old bar. Almost like the old western ones where rough men would ride into town and stop for a pint of liquor. The camera closes in on a poker table where a game is being had. Sitting at the table are several men. One with an eye patch, one with a mustache, one with a mustache and eye patch, and one who is consuming a bowl full of nails with a spoon. He holds his cards up to his face as the three other men watch the nail chewer with great interest. He crunches the nails over and over as he looks at his cards. Finally, he stops, swallows the mouthful of nails, and throws down his cards.

Nail Man: Read'em and weep boys! Aces and Eights! The devil's hand!

The three other men groan in protest as the nail chewer reaches for the money in the center of the table. The eye-patch man speaks up.

Eye-Patch Man: Dang, Justin Looper. You've done cleaned us out here today! Ain't nobody tougher or better at the cards than you!

Looper spits to the side as he reaches for another spoonful of nails.

Looper: And don't you forget it!

Suddenly, the doors of the bar fly open. All of the men sitting in the bar look over at who caused the ruckus. Much to their surprise, it is none other than a small yellow duck. Everyone remains quiet as the duck slowly walks inside of the bar and makes his way through a set of tables. The duck waddles all the way up to Justin Looper. Looper looks down at the duck and then starts laughing.

Looper: Hey boys, who let the little ducky in here? HAHA-

Looper screams in pain as the duck jumps up and begins beating the face of Justin Looper. He mercilessly beats him down off of his chair and onto the ground. All of the men are too scared to intervene. The duck quickly beats him to the point of being covered in blood. The duck finally speaks?

Duck: Quack quack quack! (Are you Justin Cooper?)

Looper speaks up timidly with a mushed mouth.

Looper: No.... I'm Justin Looper.

Duck: Quack! (Oh)

With that, the duck releases Justin Looper and walks out of the bar, leaving the barmen wetting their pants and Justin Looper laying in a pool of his own blood.
 
The scene opens up on a sunny day outside of a large store. The sign above the store's doorway reads "GimmickWill". We see a familiar sight as a yellow duck waddles up to the front door of the store. The duck flips the door open and walks in with authority. A greeter at the door welcomes him.

Greeter: Welcome to GimmickWill! This is where all items associated with former gimmicks of WZCW wrestlers come to be re-sold to the less fortunate.

Duck: Quack Quack (Where are all the items associated with Justin Cooper?).

The greeter points towards a corner in the store. The duck looks in the direction and sees a giant mountain of clothes and various accessories. The pile is so huge, and smelly, that it actually breaks through the ceiling tiles of the building. The camera shows the duck, who now has a pair of sunglasses on. His beak is ajar as he pulls the sunglasses off.

Duck: Quack (Mother of god).

The scene transitions and we see the duck walking up to the pile. He spies a jacket on the ground. He picks it up and reads the tag attached to it: "The Empire Tag Team Champion Attire (Unused) HALF-OFF!".

The duck digs in the front pocket of the jacket and pulls out a business card with Justin Cooper's name on it. An address and phone number is also on the card. The duck tosses the jacket aside. He proceeds to waddle to the exit. The greeter addresses him on his way out.

Greeter: Sir, did you find everything all right?

Duck: Quack quack (Just fine).

The duck puts on a pair of sunglasses and we see the giant pile of Justin Cooper's former belongings erupt in flames in the background. AC/DC begins to play as the scene fades out.
 
Sample Roleplay​

Kagemusha ~ The Shadow Warrior​

kagemusha.jpg

​

The scene opens of a wild and windy day, the sky is a harsh blacky blue colour with glints of grey cloud, and the burgeoning darkness seems to indicate we are heading towards night fall. A shot of jagged rocks pertruding from the surface of the sea as waves crash against their black exterior. The white surf from the waves slowly drains back into the dark blue ocean.

Slowly the camera pans around and we see on the shoreline two figures merely silhoutted at long distance, as the scene is panned in on it becomes clear one figure is standing with his back to the camera up to his knees in the tide. The second figure stands on the dark brown sand and seems restless pacing back and forth and leaving marked footprints in the wet sand where the water must have reached half a hour previous.

As the camera gets in close on the scene the figures are revealed to be two men, the man stood in the sea has a shock of burnt auburn hair and is of oriental descent. A tatty black blazer with rough tears and dark stains which eerily look like dry blood adorn this garment, which covers a white dress shirt unbutton halfway down his torso, revealing a faded red t-shirt. Also notable is a studded silver collar around the man’s neck with a red gem stone in the centre of it. The man on the sand looks more business-like and is wearing a casual pin striped suit instead of a shirt beneath the suit jacket we see the logo of Reservoir Dogs. This fellow stops pacing and draws breath.

Kiriyama we've been on this god forsaken island for a week now, we have offers from all over the world. All the major players want to talk to you, especially this WZCW promotion and they are willing to spend bigger money than you have ever been offered before. And why are we still paying this documentary crew to be here? It’s an exercise in futility if ever there was one.

Kiriyama spits into the sea in disgust the globule of spittle is lost to the salt water beneath as Kiriyama stares piercingly at the man on the surely. This is the first time we see his face in sharp focus he has a small but distinct scar running from the corner of his right eye to the bottom of his eye socket.

Money I have no use for, that is your realm LeQuint. I want to be somewhere to make my mark where I can be the person I want to be. I will allow you to make this call on my behalf. This documentary crew are here to see how the mighty have fallen, that is all you need concern yourself with.

You know Antonio is willing to let you headline the Tokyo Dome in January against with him.

So Antonio reached out to you?

LeQuint doesn't catch Kiriyama's eye and a look of disdain spreads across Kiriyama's face taking Jimmie's answer as a yes

My brother is no longer my puppeteer, Antonio promised me the riches and stardom of the King's Road and he failed to deliver. Is there any reason why I should believe his empty promise again? He forgot that this is all a game you fight for survival, then you find out if you're worth anything in the end. Antonio proved to me when I fought beside him that he is worth nothing..

LeQuint perks up all of a sudden as if he has stumbled across an eureka moment. Almost tripping over his own tongue trying to get his words out in his excitement..

Well if you don't want to accept Antonio’s offer we have the interest from WZCW. They are trying to fight the big boys, if you are willing to fight the riches and more importantly the limelight which you crave will come in time. You'll start in the sewer with the rats... However, if you fight like I know you can, the spotlight can be yours!

Kiriyama softens his edge and tone of his voice to LeQuint with the offer attention and super-stardom!

Do whsat you have to I will fight you know this don’t take me for a child LeQuint I told you when we met if you give me the platform to do what I want to do, I have no problem with you taking the lion’s share of the profit. I only need a penny more than I can spend and I am happy.

LeQuint’s eyes light up with excitement almost as if he sees Kiriyama as one big dollar sign he extracts a mobile phone from his pocket and walks off up the beach tapping the screen of his phone before holding it up to his ear.

It looks as LeQuint Brown, my executive consultant is right for once. Your presence here for the documentary is now futile. However before you go maybe I should preface my future achievements... With the story of the decay from which I rose, people may know I am the younger sibling of Puroresu star Mera Antonio... Or for the ignorance of the western world Antonio Mera.

I like Antonio was once the shining Young Lion Ace in Japan. Once my brother found the stardom, stardom that my parents always wished for him. Antonio plucked me from the dojo where I trained to do his bidding, to fight his battles... I was in the limelight but I was a sidekick, an afterthought, a shining example of nepotism. I threw away the good graces of being a company man to fight for a loose cannon.

Things went well for a time Antonio was riding high, so by proxy I was getting reflective glow from his super stardom. We travelled the world, English became my language... I opened my eyes to everything that was possible, rejoiced in experiencing the world before it all came crashing down around me.

Antonio and I returned to Japan from our travels in time for my 25th birthday. Where I had been promised a starring role in with Antonio as his new tag team partner. However, Antonio didn't wish to lose his grip with the top row of stars in Japan. So Antonio chose another from outside the family instead… This broke every promise he ever made to me and broke my heart.

Kiriyama drops to his knees submersing his lower body in the icy looking waters. He starts crawling his way towards the shoreline, as his hands come out of the water we see wet sand squeezing between his fingers. All of a sudden he flips on to his back the water lapping up to his body.

So I renounced my family name, I went from Mera Atsushi to Kiriyama Atsushi… In honour of the lone wolf Kiriyama Kazuo... from the novel, film and MANGA series Battle Royale… People say I have no moral compass in light of 'reprehensible' action towards my family. Well Antonio proved he had no morals when he chose an outside over a member of his family.

I always lived by never letting a sense of morality get in the way of doing what was right. Well Antonio didn’t do what was right did he? So I stabbed him in the back just like he did me. Antonio promised me the shared spotlight in his glorious return to Japan, then just when I had done enough to be there with him he pulled it away. Morality has become like an art form to me... I have to draw the line somewhere, now I draw the line to where it benefits me the most.

There is a loud panting noise from behind Kiriyama, the camera loses focus on Kiriyama and we see LeQuint Brown running back towards his client. Brown is visibly out of breath and gasps trying to get the words out with his hands on his knees…

WZCW are willing to give you a chance, if you want to fight they will give you a chance to prove yourself! This my friend is going to make me rich and you a global superstar. So in the words of Quentin Tarantino... Violence is one of the most fun things to watch… And Kiriyama I love watching you be violent!!!


**Scene Fades To Black!**​
 
"Conscience is a man's compass."​

A cage-linked pedestrian bridge comes into focus as the view becomes more lucid. The night-time scene is disturbed by the resonating ambience of passing motor vehicles and a distinct sound of a stick hitting pavement. The noise grows louder with every second passing until a man in a white suit comes into view. In his left hand is the source of the noise; a cane.

The man continues to move along the bridge with no other clatter escaping him but that cane. He appears without sunglasses, and his eyes show to be a cold blue. He surveys the graffiti while pulling out a metallic object from his right jacket pocket.

Within each of us is our own compass. Sometimes that needle points us to morality. Sometimes debauchery. It's that magnetic pull, you see. Mine led me here, to the roaring dusk of Paris. To WrestleZone Championship Wrestling.

To my purpose.​

Ramparte studies the compass in his hand: a bronze piece with a Latin motto inscribed around it. The arrow points North, which is behind him. Ramparte smirks, and then slips the compass through a cavity between the rusted links and the tagged railing, hitting a passing car. The automobile swerves and comes to a halt in the emergency lane. Almost hit a passing motorist. Expressionless, he turns to leave, but then stops himself.

The Catalyst breathes in the air.

It's funny how much destruction something can cause, even if it's intentions are good...So easy for destiny to take ahold of the innocent and make them swerve. The next name on my list of The Slain knows exactly what I mean...

Good~night.​

Fade to white.

****Sample RP****​
 
[Sample RP: Trying a Theme]

There ain't no grave...

Can hold my body down...

Black screen. Inhale. Exhaustion. Exhale.

There ain't no grave...

Can hold my body down...

Heavy breathing. Eight. Nine. Strained air.

When I hear that trumpet sound...

I'm gonna rise right out of the ground...

Eleven. Twe----lve. Feet on the ground.

Ain't no grave...

Can hold my body down...

Screen flickers on much like a television. Much like before, we get a camcorder view of Jonathan Hyada, this time from a worm's perspective. The man is fully clad in his ring attire, wearing the assorted black, red and white designs, symbols and colors. Above him, perhaps six heads taller than his own height is a common steel pull up bar.

Well, look way down the river...

And what do you think I see...

The lyrics of Cash continue to play from Jon's cell phone beside the camcorder. The fighter is drenched in sweat from a long work out, raising his arms above his head to start stretching his triceps reveals a long surgical scar along his left side ribs, ribs currently that have a few new bumps and bruises from a fairly recent beating.

I see a band of angels...

And they're coming after me...

Jonathan grips his left side with his right hand and twists his upper body back and forth a bit, a few cracks of the spine are loud enough for the camcorder's mic to pick up, as is the sharp intake of air in response to the pain in his body.

Jonathan: One thing I've learned from every beating. Every single one, no matter if it's during a simple sparring match or a near calamity of the body...

Ain't no grave...

I can't give up.

Can hold my body down...

Jonathan stares down at the camcorder, running his left land through his wet and matted hair, once again revealing the scar on his ribs. A small shake of the head before he looks back up at the bar high above his head, mutters a few unheard words and jumps straight up, catching the bar in both hands and hoisting his body up over and over again.

There ain't no grave...

Heavy breathing.

Can hold...

Strained counting.

My body down...

Body screaming.

Black screen.
 
Sample RP: Continuing a Theme




***




Punch impact. Bag recoils. Chain rattles.

You are... my angel...

Heavy breathing. Feet shuffle. Energy depletion.

Come from way above...

Drum machine. Electronic strings. Female lyrics.

To bring me love...

Air is tense. Muscles screaming. Focused concentration.

Zero. One.

First lesson, Ramparte.

Honor has its time and place. An opponent should be prepared the moment the bell rings.

A turned back or a blind side should be no reprieve from offense.

First lesson will not be forgotten.

Her eyes...

Second lesson, self taught.

Test the honor of those before you.

Respect if they pass.

Teach them if they fail.

Second lesson will become a staple from now on.

She's on the dark side...

Third lesson, long since taught, will never stop being repeated.

Unconsciousness longs to bring everyman into the waiting arms of a loss.

Neutralize.

The temptation of a warm sleep in the middle of the ring has to be fought harder.

Every man in sight...

Third lesson will be learned and forgotten until you finally fail the test.

To love you, love you, love you
love you, love you, love you
love you, love you, love you...

Final lesson.

Punch impact.

Stare every defeat in the face.

Bag recoils.

Grow strong. Progress.

Chain rattles.

And send them running in fear,

When you come to avenge them...

You are my angel

Come from way above

And the crowd will love you.

To love you, love you, love you
love you, love you, love you
love you, love you, love you
love you, love you, love you

Bag thudding to the ground.



***

Angel - Massive Attack
http://vimeo.com/27860873
 
The camera is zoomed in on the forehead of a young man wearing a shiny pair of glasses. The camera zooms out and we see the familiar face of Leon Kensworth smiling as his thoughts are being heard.

Kensworth: I couldn’t believe my ears when I heard the message. I had to call back just to make sure it was the real thing. Months had gone by without us hearing anything from him. His departure was the polar opposite of what you would expect. There were no tributes, no celebrations, no final word from a man who has spoken so loudly so many times inside and outside of the ring. So many questions to ask. What made up his mind to leave and why has he decided to speak now regarding it? Ohhh, I’ve been on the edge of my seat for days. This is so exciting!

The camera then shows papers being tapped across the top of a diner booth table and then lined up with care by Becky Sierra. Her thoughts are heard as she rests the papers down on the side.

Sierra: This is so nerve wrecking. Okay Becky, you got this. You’re a terrific interviewer. You’ve done this a million times before. So what if this could potentially be your biggest interview in years. It’s not everyday you get to speak to one of WZCW’s greatest, right? So don’t screw it up... er, I mean make the most of it. Oh man, I don’t want to mess this up. I just gotta show Mr. Banks that I’m a top notch interviewer, but I’m so nervous right now. Maybe if I just stare into his eyes it’ll calm me down. He is kinda dreamy.... No, I can’t do that. He’s a married man. I mean, what sort of **** would go after a married guy?

The camera shows Stacey Madison, her head being held up by her arm resting on its elbow on the table. Her eyes stare up across the table at someone as a smile curls on her face. A drink sits within close range of her as her thoughts are heard.

Madison: I’m so happy he called. He’s kinda hotter now that he’s a husband and a dad. Wish we could hook up like old times, Oh My God, he was married back then. That means that I was his mistress! Yes! This could so work out, but I can’t come off as too easy. Gotta nail him down hard... with this interview I mean. Give him the tough questions, make him sweat a little, and then, hey, invite him over for a drink and see where that goes. I’m certainly not gonna wait till then. Let's see if he picks up where I’m going.

Stacey picks up the drink and playfully, but clumsily, uses her tongue to pull the straw in her mouth for a drink. The scene then changes to the surly face of Johnny Klamour, sitting directly across the table, staring at the camera with his arms crossed. His thoughts are heard.

Klamour: The nerve of this guy, I can’t believe he would ask me to come interview him in this dump. I bet he would’ve taken the other interviewers to some place better. I’m sure he would’ve personally flown Stacey or Becky out to see him on some private yacht. Instead I had to haul ass in my beat up car and have flys buzzing off my face. This guy thinks he can just waltz back into WZCW and pick up where he left off. I saw the fire die inside of him inside that ring, the only thing he has left to ruin is the show.

Scene shows Showtime David Cougar, sitting across from Klamour as he takes a bite of a roast beef sandwich. The camera pans out to see they are in a worn down looking 1950’s style diner. Showtime passes his coffee mug over to waitress who refills his cup. Showtime looks across the table. The camera now shows Stacey Madison who has finished her drink and stares back at Showtime, blinking. Camera back on Showtime shows him taking a sip of his coffee, as if to hide the awkwardness of the situation, and then he lowers the cup. The camera shows Leon now sitting across from Showtime. He opens his mouth to speak, but can’t seem to find the words to say and instead waves a waitress over. Camera shows Showtime raising his eyebrow in puzzlement regarding the delay. Becky is now seated with Showtime at the booth and breaks the ice.

Sierra: So, how have you been?

Showtime: I’m good, thanks for asking. My body certainly isn’t as sore as it used to be on some nights.

Becky smiles and takes a sip from the complimentary water on the table.

Sierra: And how are things?

Showtime: Things have been going alright so far. I recently wrapped up work on two movies. I'm in talks to play a major role in an up coming Jerry Bruckheimer film. I've put a lot more focus on The Show and things have been going steady with that. Just keeping busy and trying to work my way up the ladder in the entertainment biz. In a lot of ways it's no different than wrestling. Even as an established name in another genre, I still have to cut my teeth, work on my craft, and build on my successes. Mentally anyway, I haven't worked this hard in years.

Sierra: That’s great to hear Showtime, and we’re glad to see return. We missed you.

Showtime and Becky share a smile.

Sierra: Now the match...

Camera shows Klamour now. The waitress has placed in front of him a very large steak sandwich meal. He cuts himself a great big piece and begins to chew on it.

Klamour: The last time you were in the ring you had your ass handed to you by Barbosa. How did it feel to be knocked unconscious at Redemption?

Showtime: Well, I wasn’t knocked unconscious that night. Beaten silly, sure, seeing stars, you’re looking at one Klamour, and I was seeing dozens of them after that match, but I was very much aware of what happened after the bell had rung. Credit where credit is due, Barbosa is one tough competitor. He was one of those few wrestlers who didn’t need to work his way up through the middle card. He came, showed everyone what he could do, and has floated around the main event ever since. Redemption was his coming out party if you will.

Klamour: But I bet it must’ve stung losing the WZCW Championship so soon after winning it?

Showtime smirks as he takes a bite out of his sandwich before speaking.

Showtime: It did, but, and I don’t want this to sound like an excuse, but I put everything I had into winning the WZCW Championship at Kingdom Come. I was already prepared to leave before the event, but with the encouragement of my family, I pushed myself to the limits to defeat my two biggest rivals from last year. Physically I was fine, but mentally I was drained. I had nothing left in me to give. I was World Champion for the third time in my career. I had done it all in WZCW, and more than ever I felt that it was time for me to step away from the ring and take on some new challenges in life. Was I disappointed in losing the belt so soon, yes, but I’m not dwelling on that fact. I was ready to step away, and Barbosa happened to be facing me at the right time. Could’ve been him, could’ve been Ricky Runn. My heart just wasn’t in it that night.

A large salad bowl is placed in front on Leon. Finding his mouth is still open trying to ask his first question, he forks in a huge helping of lettuce into his mouth to pass the time. Speaking of mouths open, the scene changes to Showtime and Stacey, who is demonstrating to Showtime just how wide her mouth can open.

Showtime: Please Stacey, there are children here.

Stacey takes a normal sip from her glass and speaks, winking at the end.

Madison: So when are we going to see Showtime wearing nothing but that World Heavyweight Title belt again?

Showtime shudders a little bit as he sips on his coffee.

Showtime: My contract does include a rematch clause, but I have no desire to use it.

Madison: Well that’s silly..... unless you’re afraid of Barbosa.

Showtime: I’m not afraid of anyone inside that ring. I simply have other projects that I’d like to deal with first.

Madison: A lot of talk for somebody who’s showing me no balls.

Showtime: Professionalism Stacey. I compete in the matches I’m booked in.

Madison: Oh, so now you’re ready to be a big shot wrestler again, Mr. Hollywood.

Showtime: Let’s see how the Leon interview is going.

Leon continues to munch on his salad. Showtime impatiently looks around the diner waiting to be interviewed by the interviewer. The waiter comes back with an enormous three patty burger with fries. Leon takes the plate and continues eating. Camera now shows Becky reading from her notes.

Sierra: Okay so Barbosa’s getting elbow cushions for christmas this year. I don’t know Show, do you think he’ll use them?

Showtime: I don’t know, but my face says maybe. It kinda worked out though, cause I saved make-up a lot of time on the set for the fight scene days later. Definitely need to get him something for christmas.

Sierra: Well, is it safe to say that with your return you have your sights set on avenging your loss to Barbosa and returning to the World Title picture?

Showtime: I’m going to say no, and the reason for that is because I’m looking for new challenges to conquer inside the ring. I’ve held the WZCW Title 3 times in the last 18 months. I don’t want to under sell the importance of being World Champion. It is the goal of every single professional wrestler in this business to become World Champion, but being World Champion isn’t everything. 90% of the roster will never become World Champion, but that doesn’t mean that they can’t be proud of their accomplishments. There are a few guys in the back who I’m looking forward to competing against and putting on the best matches possible with them.

As for Barbosa, I don’t dwell too much on my losses. He beat me, and I wouldn’t mind stepping into the ring to face him again, but I’m not going to push for that to happen. When the time comes it will happen.

Close up of Klamour's mouth as he's chewing his steak, panning out to show both men as he speaks.

Klamour: Sounds to me that you’re trying to down play the loss to Barbosa. And word is you won’t be using your rematch clause. Worried that he would beat you again?

Showtime: You’ll be in for a surprise when Ricky Runn beats him for the WZCW Title.

Klamour: As Justin Cooper would point out, that would mean Ricky Runn would have defeated you lineally for the World Title. How embarrassing would that have been 18 months ago?

Showtime: I don’t need to be WZCW Champion again to feel accomplished here. Let the younger boys fight for the weight that gold carries. I have my sights set on bigger things right now. Somewhere down the road, me and Barbosa will meet again and I will be better this time, you can be sure for that Johnny. I did, however, learn something from Barbosa that night though that ultimately made me return to WZCW.

Showtime is on his phone as Leon finishes the last of his burger and fries. Showtime ends the call and Leon starts to breath heavily.

Kensworth: I’m sorry Showtime. I was so excited about this interview that I haven’t eaten anything for days.

Showtime: It’s alright Leon.

Kensworth: No it isn’t. I gotta use the facilities here.

Leon leaves the booth and makes a dash for the restroom. Showtime stands up from the booth and holds his arms up. Scene changes to Showtime and Madison, who are both also standing up.

Showtime: Well Stacey, this has been insanely awkward.

Madison: Hey, you got a problem with me? Well maybe you’ve gotten soft there little man. Something’s changed about you.

Showtime: I mostly meant about the toe licking. I get it, you’re flexible.

Madison: Screw you. I hope you get f*cked in the ring by Celeste and Holmes.

Stacey storms out of the diner.

Showtime: Only Yaz would want to see that.

Back at the booth Becky and Showtime are laughing over a joke.

Sierra: Hahaha, too funny. Okay, I think we’re just about done here. All I really have left to ask is about your match this week. On Ascension 72, Magnitudinis are scheduled to face Titus and a mystery partner, which will be announced as you. How did this match come about?

Showtime: Well Becky as you know, Meltdown 100 is right around the corner and I definitely do not want to miss that show, but I don’t want to come in there all Hollywood like, jet planes and entourage, and I don’t want to be all rusty, so I called up Kenny Banks and told him whenever he needs me give me a call. What do you know it, a few weeks later he gave me a call and said he needed me. Said he wanted Titus to go for the tag titles now, so I said hell yeah.

Nothing could be more exciting than teaming up with an old friend to take on the two scum-bags who screwed me over at Lethal Lottery. Me and the legend Titus are going to tear those two apart worse than the night they decided to switch roles in bed. They’ll be lucky to keep the belts at Apocalypse, but should they somehow do they won’t get by the most decorated tag team in WZCW history. Showtime..... and Titus! Man.... I’m really excited to get in there again and leave the crowd speechless.

Sierra: We’re looking forward to it too Showtime. This interview I think went really well.

Showtime: It did. You’re a natural at it.

Becky smiles

Sierra: It’s good have you back David.

Showtime: It’s good to be back Becky.

Close up of the side of Klamours face.

Klamour: What did you learn?

Showtime finishes his sandwich and speaks.

Showtime: Now Johnny if I told you that, what would you have to ask me tomorrow.

Showtime smirks and pulls out his wallet to pay for their meals. After a long pause of silence, Klamour looks over at Showtime.

Klamour: What are you going to do?

Showtime looks up at Klamour and smirks, seeing thats he’s got Klamour hook, line, and sinker.

Showtime: I’m just here to put on a good show.
 
| First Journal Entry, 17 December 2013.

We're building up to Apocalypse and a potential chance to earn a shot at the World Title as King for a Day soon. But lately, something has been sticking in my mind more than anything else.

"You're the kind of guy people want to cheer for. You're very intense, and it comes across nicely.A guy who has taken his lumps and faced embarrassment is always good. But don't be afraid to share that."

The lessons, reflections and bitterness from prior matches are slowly being pushed aside by that quote.

"Don't be afraid to share that."

The problem with that is, in my head at least, that talking about myself is one of the many things that helped me fall. Not in quite the same sense or context that Blade brought up... but once you've burned your skin on a match, you become weary of every fire.

I suppose, if at least part of what created my life is disclosed, at least in this book, it might help me push myself further than I am allowing myself to go.

But I am precarious to absolutely push my limits, for I am at times not wholly convinced of how deep the renewal of the spirit, mind and heart has become in the years post of destruction.

But for perhaps sanity's sake... here is my effort:

My name is Jonathan Richard Hyada. Born to my father, Shou Hyada of Japanese descent and Aliyanna Hyada, my mother of English descent, in America.

I will omit the rather dull portions of the childhood in favor of what's more important.

I have been around violence my entire life.

This does not suggest I came from a violent home, where my parents went rounds with each other in physicality. But rather, it is hard to stay away from knowing, learning and participating in subjects of violence when your mother was in the military and your father was a wrestler and martial arts instructor.

Violence, at least in this chapter, does not reflect the same violence in another.

I grew up with my mother's war stories. When I was old enough, or just wore her down enough, I learned that she killed people as part of her job. As I grew ever older, I learned that she was able to wash away that portion of her life as if it never occurred thanks to the man that my father is. This... this portion may be a reflection of another chapter, as I too could abolish my feelings, but for different reasons.

I grew up inside a gym, a dojo and quite often with my back on the ground.

Like most fathers who were also trainers, my own was not easy on me but it was never asked of him to be easy on me. He'd teach me through violence. I blocked a punch because he swung at me. I avoided being rag dolled by planting my feet. I learned because he respected me enough, even at the younger years of teenhood, to treat me as if he fully believed I could handle all he threw.

And I did. Or at least I think I did, as now and then his lessons ended in blackness.

But I learned how to fight. How to defend myself. How to show respect.

But... not all lessons fully keep when the right, or in the case of future chapters, the wrong position presents itself.
 
At a clearing overlooking the city lights, next to the side of the road, two handmade wooden stools stood comfortably. Between them, a cardboard box was supporting an ashtray and a once-proud bottle of Jack Daniels. Grizzly Bob had a big day – he doubled up as lookout and wheelman and was moonlighting as barkeep. From his safely parked pick-up truck he returned with two plastic tumblers and tossed one at Blade, who expertly snatched it from the air. The stool creaked as Grizzly squatted down on it, followed by the unmistakable sound of glasses being filled.

To us!

The plastic collided with more a thud than the crisp clink of crystal.

It’s hardly Boston, but it’ll have to do.

The flint briefly illuminated the area. Blade lit two cigarettes and passed one on to Grizzly.

Y’know, we shouldn’t REALLY be out here.

Now why would you say that?

Well, you’re a wanted man... we just fixed up that X feller’s house real good...

In the gloom, Blade shot his partner a smile.

Relax, will you? Tonight is our night. We scored an unmistakable victory.

I s’pose so.

As Grizzly was taking a first gulp of his whiskey, he heard the other cup hit the box.

Another round, if you would be so kind.

Well... damn!

I’ll admit, it’s a vice, but where it damages the liver, it sustains the soul.

The bottle glugged as Bob inexpertly filled the tumbler.

Look at them city lights. Always wondered how you city folk can sleep in all that hubbub.

It is a beautiful sight, isn’t it? And one of those penthouses had a visit from us tonight.

“Blade and Bob”, can’t be beat.

We certainly make a good team, don’t we?

Blade breathed out a thick column of smoke upwards into the night air.

You really don’t get along with him, do you?

Hmm?

Triple X...

A brief silence followed. The coal of the cigarette showed a guarded expression on Blade’s face.

No, I think it would be fair to say that tonight was a long time in the making. He has been making life VERY uncomfortable for me lately. You’ve seen it, every cheap trick he pulled. I haven’t forgotten that concussion he gave me, even though I have no recollection of it.

But that was a massive mistake. Now he done an’ made an enemy of BOTH of us.

The cold air encouraged the use of “fortification” against the cold.

Another round, please?

Bob didn’t say a word, but he also didn’t move a muscle.

Oi! I’m not driving!

Finally, Blade heard the life-affirming sound of liquor on plastic.

I’ll tell you one thing, though. You look miles better than last I saw you, pard’ner. You went from all huddled up in the Irish cold to Prodigal Son, king of the vandals!

Yes, that’d be a two-man kingdom, then?

Grizzly chuckled at his snarky partner.

You go to hell, Blade.

The two men paid their neglected beverages some attention.

Do you believe man came from the apes?

Evolution? I suppose the evidence is irrefutable.

But do you think it’s possible to devolve?

I see what you’re getting at. I wouldn’t worry about that if I were you.

I kinda liked lettin’ go. I mean, I’ll get riled up from time to time when I get excited about sum’thin’, but tonight was on another level. I trashed a man’s home.

A man that deserved it, Bob. Don’t you forget it!

Blade pointed at him with his cigarette.

Once you unlock your potential, there won’t be a soul alive that would tame you. Bad things happen to bad people. Diabolos wants the wild bear? Give it to him! Go nuts, buddy!

His cheeks were masked by the darkness, but Grizzly could feel himself blush.

Thanks for believing in me, Blade. Cheers!

They knocked glasses.

And for what it’s worth, that Elite X belt looked a damn sight better on you.

*

In her finest and most professional off-white pants-suit, Becky Serra motioned Grizzly Bob to his mark. Cameras rolled, boom-mic’s hovered and the gorilla position was alive with the action-packed, prime-time WZCW-programming!

While Becky flashed the lens a dazzling smile, Grizzly was grooming his beard, picking out a few of the potato chips he had minutes earlier.

Hello viewers! Tag-team action later tonight with Dr. Zeus and Diabolos against the team of Blade and Grizzly Bob! With me I have WZCW’s own mountain dweller, Grizzly Bob!

Hey there, Becky. You’re lookin’ a right peach, as always.

Why, thank you, Bob.

I know you’re a busy lady, so let me cut right to the chase. Tonight you’ll finally be seeing me team up with the Prodigal Son, Blade himself. We’re lickin’ our chops for this one! They’re two guys who don’t play by the rules? That’s great, ‘cause NEITHER DO WE! Yeah, the time has come to let go.

Let’s talk about one of your opponents, Dr. Zeus. Like him or not, he’s definitely made a huge impact in WZCW since his debut.

He made an impact, alright, but his mind games won’t work on me. No brain, no pain, Becky. He came to WZCW and look at what he did to an amazing woman like Sandy? That really grinds my gears, Becky, when men take to hittin’ women the way he did.

He balled his big, hammy fist.

I’ll show you a REAL MAN, Zeus!

Your other opponent, Diabolos, is certainly one of the more colourful characters, but I can’t help the feeling that he is hiding something.

Why else do you wear a mask, Becky? Of course he has something to hide! He’s showed his hand by having a gang of people attack me. He’s shown he’s nuthin’ but a coward, THAT’s what! Tonight I am going to show him that the original’s always best. There is only ONE bear and that’s me! And in a team with Blade, how can they beat us? He’s outfoxed and outwrestled damn-near everybody in this company and I can’t wish for a better tag partner OR a better friend! We’re a much better team and we aren’t clinically insane, like our opponents.

Thank you for your time, Bob.

Thank YOU, ma’am!

Grizzly sped off, stomping floorboards and tiles in his wake, growling to himself.
 
Scene opens on the set of The Show. “Showtime” David Cougar is seated behind his desk with a large book in hand. With a pair of stylish reading glasses on, he begins to read out loud.

Showtime: Websters dictionary defines Hall of Fame as “A number of individuals acclaimed as outstanding in a particular profession or activity.” Looking at the numerous Hall of Fames that litter the “pat on the back to make you feel good” country of America, you can’t just be outstanding to get into some that are out there. In certain cases you need to be the best, of the best, of the best, and if there’s any questions at all regarding that distinction, you could find yourself waiting a long time before being inducted. Fortunately for some, most Hall of Fame’s induct many different people a year so we all have a chance to feel good about ourselves, even if we were never among the very best, even if we never fully reached our potential.

Showtime puts down the dictionary and takes off his reading glasses. He slowly puts them away and then puts both hands on the table and faces the camera.

WZCW is approaching what will be their 7th year of existence in June and at Kingdom Come they unveiled their first ever Hall of Fame inductee. By inducting only one individual, WZCW has elected to present their Hall of Fame as prestigious, and not water it down with every Tom, Dick, and Harry, who has won an Elite X or Mayhem title. Of all the great names they could’ve choose to be that individual however, they settled on a wrestler called Everest. Before you judge me too quickly, let me first explain. There are three main eras when talking about WZCW. The first one is largely ignored. Joseph Rios held the WZCW Title for almost a year, but was considered a corrupt champion. Big Will was the first man to hold the Elite X and the WZCW Title. Both men are never mentioned amongst the greats. They came from an era of uncertainty, a time when WZCW was not considered among the very best companies in wrestling. The era that most people know and historians site as when WZCW really took off was when Everest won the WZCW Title at Apocalypse 2009. And of course, the third and current and best! era began when I won the WZCW Title.

Showtime nods his head and flashes a big proud smile and then continues to speak.

Everest’s accomplishments do match up well with many other great WZCW wrestlers. A former Mayhem champion before winning his first World Championship, he would go on to win WZCW Title for a second time and enjoy a much more successful run as World Champion before losing at Kingdom Come II to my good friend Titus. That’s where the accomplishments end for the man who called himself the “Pinnacle of Perfection”. Everest hung around the main event, but never had anywhere near the success he enjoyed as champion. Years went by and Everest slowly sank down the card until Meltdown 74, when he took his ball and went home, not even showing up to compete in WZCW’s own “End of an Era” match. Everest, Big Dave, Steamboat Ricky, Titus. Three of those wrestlers no longer compete anymore. The winner is somehow to this day just getting by.

Showtime looks up in astonishment and then back down before looking back at the camera with a more serious look.

And that’s why Everest was inducted. He was the safe choice. Someone who will never come out of retirement. The one who was champion when WZCW slowly began to climb up in status. People forget how small WZCW used to be. Maybe 12 or 14 contracted wrestlers at the time, Everest had bare bones competition to compete against. It wasn’t until later when superstars like me arrived that people started giving a damn about WZCW. Wrestlers from across the world came to compete against me and I beat them all. Everest faltered against the greater competition and fell into mediocrity after losing the WZCW Title.

The camera zooms in on Showtime's face as he continues to speak.

He overstayed his time here, and that’s where your career is beginning to follow along with Titus. It’s been what? Years since your last big victory. New blood like Chris K.O. and Vega were too much for you to handle and each week more and more wrestlers continue to move up past you. I mean, a year ago would anyone have guessed Ricky Runn and The Beard would be where they are right now? Props for them, but give your head a shake and realize what’s been happening. You’re old, and the only thing you’re doing is weakening your legacy. I know you’re looking for a fight right now. Don’t. I’m just trying to be a good friend here and give you some advice. Leave the ring before you do any further damage to your career. You’ll thank me later.

A smile forms across Showtime’s face as the camera fades to black.
 
♫ I gotta keep movin', I gotta keep movin'♫

♫Blues falling down like hail, blues falling down like hail♫

Mmm, blues fallin' down like hail, blues fallin' like hail...

♫And the day keeps on remindin' me, there's a hellhound on my trail...♫

♫Hellhound on my trail♫

Hellhound on my trail...



Ramparte sits idly upon a bale of hay in a squaller of a barn with beady streams of light pouring from the holes of its tin roof. His face half hidden within the daylight beams, he finishes his slow-paced song and looks into the camera that followed him.


He looks for a full minute without saying a word. Just staring at the lens and the red light that showed it was being recorded. The cameraman behind it was steadily growing more and more uneasy at taping a man in a white suit staring silently back at him. When he spoke, he spoke gently, almost caressing each sentence.


Robert Johnson sang that. He had other hits in his lifetime as well, like "Me And The Devil Blues", "Crossroads Blues", and "If I Had Possession Over Judgement Day". It's rumored that he had sold his soul to The Devil for the ability to play the guitar.


Ramparte adjusted his spider lapel on his suit, which shined on, clearly visible with a ray of light striking it's silver mold.


Ability is an interesting thing to bargain for, isn't it? To have the power to do what others have to spend their lives striving for, and even then more often then naught it's a pipe dream.


The WZCW Universe lives vicariously through it's heroes; feeding off of them. Striving to be like them and have their abilities. How many Saboteur masks or Styrofoam Warblades does the WZCW sell? How many shirts do they greedily spend money on with Blade's likeness? How much S.H.I.T. do they really need?


The Man In White jumped off of the bale and stood firmly in front of the cameraman; his cane in front of him and his position at a parade rest. Ramparte studied the camera again, lost in his thoughts. When he came to he spoke louder, his voice a baritone husk echoing off of the barn walls.


"Some rise by sin, and some by virtue fall."


These heroes are not as they appear. Each and every one of them have committed great sins upon the world and must pay it back sevenfold. This is why I am here; I am The Catalyst, and as such must eradicate the hypocrites and score their names upon The List of The Slain. This is my mission. This is my cross to bare.


For only I should hold the Ebony Crown and establish order. Only I should be Mephisto Manifesto.


Chuckling to himself, he started to grind his cane into the sawdust that littered the floor. Not looking at the camera anymore, he spoke while hypnotized by the motion of his cane.


Hyada, if you are listening in, listen closely. You took an opportunity away from me at Apocalypse. Allow me to repay you. Our tag team match will be a beautiful emergence of Cerberus, the multi-headed hellhound. The Cerberus will eradicate Project Venom. It will feed on each tag team WZCW throws in Mussel's and my way. There is no escaping a hellhound. Your time has come.


And just think, Hyada; even if you were to defeat me this week, can you honestly say that I did not win?


Ramparte laughed harshly. A tiny glimmer of smoke started to rise from the dust he was digging into. The camera toggled away from the scene and outside of the barn; the cameraman in panic. What once was a pure morning day was now becoming a cloudy one. A breeze started to pick up as The Catalyst appeared at the barn's entrance, leaning against the wooden door.


I had thought my crusade to be a solo one. Even I did not see an ally on the horizon. But now I have one, and Cerberus. Grows. Hungry. Spirits will be broken and darkness will be restored.


Beware my ambition. You will remember me as you fall asleep. You will remember me as your loved ones weep.


Good~Night.


Smoke started to billow from the roof's holes as the scene faded to white.
 
The Scene opens up backstage after Stratton’s match with Stone. Stratton is visibly fatigued after the match and drenched in sweat. Furthermore, his demeanor is clearly belligerent and aggressive as he stomps back to his locker-room through the hallway. As he walks down the corridor he flips over tables, knocks over water coolers, kicks and punches the wall in a childish fit.

A group of WZCW staff are gathered watch the events and snickering amongst themselves. Upon seeing this, Stratton becomes further angered and approaches them.

Stratton-What?! What’s funny?!

The group nervously shake their head in intimidation playing ignorant.

Stratton-No, I love good laugh, let me in the joke!

The group cowers further and Stratton continues down the hall when approached by a reporter.

Reporter-Barrett-a word about your match please!

Barrett angrily shoves the man out of his way making the man’s head hit the hall wall behind him as he sinks to the ground in pain. Barrett reaches his well furnished dressing room and slams the door angrily behind as the camera man barely gets through.

Stratton-Ugh! A damn woman…it wasn’t…supposed to happen like this!

Stratton paces angrily back and forth before trashing his dressing room. He throws a chair into the mirror smashing the glass all over the floor, and kicks his locker door in. Stratton goes over to his stock bar and pulls out a fifth of Jack Daniels whiskey. He turns the bottle up taking an unhealthy amount of the hard liquor straight to head before throwing the bottle against the wall. The effects of the alcohol further his emotional state, he peers around the room at the wreckage he created and collapses into his couch; head in hands, sulking over the lost.

Stratton-I can’t believe this sh*t…that f*cking b*tch…

Just then Stratton’s IPhone begins chiming his Dixieland ringtone and vibrating on the coffee table in front of him.

The phone reads Eric Stratton. The caller ID seems to further dampen the wrestler’s spirits.

Stratton-Dammit…

Stratton answers the phone and lays back into the couch in emotional and physical exhaustion after his loss. The phone is on speaker

Barrett-Yeah…

Eric-We saw your match son…

Barrett-…

Eric-You’ve embarrassed me again boy.

Barrett-I was screwed!
Eric-No you screwed yourself, and you screwed your family. Embarrassed the Stratton name.

Barrett-I'm no mbarassment?!

Eric-Yes an embarrassment! You think the family didn’t see that little stunt you pulled in the gym?! It was on national television Barrett…national television…how do you think that makes us look?!

Barrett-I did what I had…

Eric-Shut your mouth boy! I am not done talking you! Now I didn’t work my ass off making this family what it is, what’s it worth, and who it is for you to go around getting slapping hookers and getting your ass kicked on national television by women! You know how many strings I had to pull to get you back in wrestling after your little no show title defense-all for the opening day of deer season?

Barrett-…

Eric-I’ve got the board calling me up, investors, all wanting to know what this is you’re pulling down there. You pull your head out of your ass boy. I didn’t send you to the best schools and keep you out of jail to see you ruin our namesake.

The phone shows a hangup on Eric’s line and goes dark. Barrett pauses and heads over to his gym back again rummaging through until he pulls out a small sack of what looks marijuana. He turns his attention to the camera man.

Stratton-Get out!

Barrett charges at the cameraman before he makes a hasty retreat out of the dressing room with Barrett slamming the door behind him ending the scene.
 
The scene opens up on the The Rachel Maddow Show, live on MSNBC. Rachel Maddow has gone through her usual list of panelists, columnists, and political analysis. As the show begins to reach the end of its time slot, Maddow, addresses a recent controversial issue in pro wrestling…

Maddow-…and finally tonight, we come to recent reports of sexual harassment, discrimination, verbal, physical, and sexual abuse in the world of professional wrestling.

Wrestle Zone Championship Wrestling; better known as WZCW, recently aired an extremely controversial segment from one it’s wrestlers on prime time cable television nonetheless.

As an industry that has always been plagued controversy including racial discrimination against wrestlers of color and steroid abuse, you would think the WZCW would be careful to toe the line, but apparently not.

We have the footage aired on WZCW programming here on the Rachel Maddow Show. Be forewarned, the following clip is graphic and offensive in nature.

The stripper clip from Barrett Stratton’s initial promo against Stone is shown to the audience before cutting back to Maddow.

Maddow-Barrett Stratton, known as his moniker “Ol’ Money” in WZCW has always been source of controversy but this certainly takes the proverbial cake.

maddow_promo.jpg


Maddow-Now, what many of you don’t know. Is that Barrett Stratton is the son of this man, Eric Stratton.

Eric Stratton, Barrett’s father, is shown on television at the Republican National Convention in 2008.

Maddow-Eric Stratton is the CEO of Vanguard Financial, one of the largest investment banking firms based out of Nashville Tennessee. The Stratton family has also contributed millions of dollars to Republican Congressional, and Senate candidates as well as being big contributors to the Bush, McCain, and Romney Presidential campaigns.

Now, the best part of this privileged drama; as if this scene wasn’t bad enough, a Youtube video has gone viral online showing the real promo that Stratton cut. Remember the upstanding gentlemen in the background; Stratton’s wrasslin buddies? Well one of them has posted the unedited segment after recording the promo with his smart phone, and yes, it gets far more despicable. We won’t show the unedited segment here on the show. However, since the WZCW edited the original footage, it’s likely that the organization will be absolved from any sort of legal action. However, Mr. Stratton here may not be so lucky.

In fact…the lady that was abused in this video has contacted the American Civil Liberties Union; ACLU, and is intending on bringing forth litigation against Mr. Stratton…and probably his trust fund. The ACLU will be representing the lady in this video. Now we will not divulge her identity, because for all intents and purposes, she is a victim.

Now all of you are well aware of my political stance and orientation. I find this behavior utterly appalling in this day and age. Barrett Stratton has set women back almost 100 years with this disgusting piece. Stratton is purely ignorant and bigoted; there is no way around it. My sympathies go out to this young lady who is no doubt embarrassed and hurt in many ways over this fiasco she suffered through. No doubt Stratton will face serious civil legal ramifications…if not criminal. What will be truly interesting here; and the real story under all of this, is if the Republican establishment will now distance themselves from the support of the Stratton family? Or will the Good Ol’ Boy network of the GOP stick to it’s guns?

Only time will tell…

Thank you for tuning into the Rachel Maddow show…good night America…

The outro plays in the background as the show; and scene, come to a close.
 
"You cannot be serious?"

It was the question that most retorted back whenever Eve Taylor explained which path she had taken to continue her passion of modelling. It wasn't something that took her off-guard as she expected such a reaction from most people she worked alongside but from her best friend Maggie? Eve thought that she'd be the one person in the world that'd understand however, the look on Maggie's face as Eve continued searching her hotel room for clothes to pack her travel bags proved her theory wrong.

"There are literally hundreds of other opportunities you could choose from that are much less... barbaric. You could get yourself hurt, Eva!" Maggie exclaimed with concern in her voice.

This prompts a quick chuckle from Eve, shaking her head in disbelief towards her friend's worrying nature. Eve stopped folding her clothes for a moment and looked up at Maggie, pushing aside her brown hair to place a hand on her shoulder to comfort her.

"Thank you for caring, my friend but this is exactly what I want to do." Eve explained as she shot her friend a reassuring smile.

It wasn't enough to convince Maggie though as she still kept the worried look across her face as Eve continued to pack.

"I just don't understand, Eva. Why professional wrestling?"

"For the exact same reasons I decided to become a model - to promote my message that beauty isn't selective, it's within all of us - and what better way than to join one of the biggest companies in the world whose large target audience is my target audience?"

Still confused, Maggie shakes her head and starts stumbling to get out a sentence to combat Eve's arguments.

"But... what about becoming an actress? That achieves the same goal & requirements you-"

"I've been acting my whole modelling career," Eve interrupted with a serious tone, "being forced into a different face every day and having my parameters defined for me. You know exactly what it's like hopping from booking to booking, practically resetting yourself with the next clean-clean so another client can manipulate you to whatever they desire. I've tried playing by their rules to spread my message across the world and it failed. Now I'm going to try my own way and I'm going to have some fun with it. It's probably not the easiest option, I'll give you that Maggie but I'm not forcing myself to do something that I don't like. Otherwise, what's the point?"

Maggie sat on the bed in silence, not knowing how to combat Eve's logic. Eve sat beside her, letting everything she said sink in.

"We knew this day would come, Maggie. No amount of cosmetics and surgeries can prevent the ageing process; the rising stars of the business are breaking the glass ceiling just like we did and they're here to take over our positions. We had to prepare ourselves for the inevitable and find something else and you may not understand fully why I'm choosing to join WZCW but that's what I want. Whatever you want, I'll support. I just want to know that you support my decision too."

Maggie looked over to Eve and nodded slowly.

"Of course you've got my support, I'm just worried for your safety. The things that I've heard about that place makes me think you'll be in a hospital within the first week!"

Eve laughed playfully at Maggie.

"Oh c'mon, it's not that bad. You know how gossip works. I've been doing my research and I think I've got a good chance of adapting. They even agree with me and I've got my first match in a few days!"

Maggie's eyes grow wide open as her jaw drops.

"You cannot be serious?..."

Again with the question, Eve thought.

"... How did-?"

"I got the call this morning. That's why I was rushing to pack my bags. I wasn't moving to start my training. Besides, a majority of last year was spent in the dojo preparing myself and now I get to test my skills, against Flex Muscle, no less!"

Maggie is taken aback by the name, attempting to connect the dots as she tries figuring out why that name is so familiar.

"Isn't that the fitness instructor Thierry was always raving about? He's in WZCW too?"

"Apparently... it's his first match as well. There are a couple of other guys who haven't been there for very long so I'll fit right in, I reckon. Plus, it's a teaming contest so it's a smooth transition."

Maggie's interest in the subject has increased slightly, fearing less for Eve's safety now that things seem more pleasant.

"Teams? Who's your partner, then? It's not that Oscar-winning actor, is it? What's his name..." Maggie queried.

"Titus? No way. Just because I've got some fame behind me doesn't mean I'm ready for the big leagues. I've got a guy called Jon Hyada. I haven't met him but he seems like a nice guy, unlike Flex's partner, Ramparte. He's one of those anti-social high society types. Y'know, likes to put himself on a pedestal... the kind of people who promote the exact opposite of what I'm about. Can you imagine picking up my first victory against people who like to tell you that you look weird and should change your appearance?"

"And that's coming from a professional model." Maggie pointed out with a smirk.

Eve let out a sarcastic laugh.

"You sound like a professional model wrestling isn't the strangest part... Anyway, I want to turn heads and surprise people when they see me walk down the ramp, climb into the ring and hang with the rest of the roster. So as long as connect with the fans and have a little fun along the way, I don't care what else is said. I'm here for the long haul."

Still a little unsure, Maggie shakes her head with a smile and looks over to Eve.

"You're determined, Eva... and since I can't stop you, I wish you luck."

Eve smiles back.

"Thanks, friend. You can visit me any time."

The two friends stand up and share a hug before Maggie exits the hotel room, leaving Eve to finish off her packing which is almost complete. She folds the last remaining item of clothing before zipping up her bag and taking one deep breath. She turns around and looks at herself in the mirror, smiling confidently at what she sees.

"Let's do it."
 
Showtime: I want to talk to you all about somebody famous. You might know him. He’s a former 3-time WZCW Champion, former Elite-X Champion, former EurAsian Champion, former Tag Team Champion, former Mayhem Champion. Not sure who he is yet? Well he’s headlined two Kingdom Come PPV’s, he’s won the Lethal Lottery, he’s appeared in a growing list of TV shows and movies. Still don’t know? Well with the below average intelligence that I am finding with todays WZCW audience, I’m not surprised. There is only one person in the history of this company who has accomplished all those things, and that’s me. I’ve done just about everything there is to do in WZCW. I’ve beaten hundreds of different wrestlers inside the ring and have won numerous end of year awards. My credentials should automatically make me the greatest wrestler to ever compete in this company, but alas that is not true among the fan base. I won’t toot my horn anymore than it needs to be and I will give credit where credit is due, there are a..... couple of other great wrestlers that have competed in WZCW that should also be included in the debate regarding who is the best wrestler in WZCW history. Unfortunately for the simple minded viewers, who now tune in to what was once the greatest wrestling company in the world, the debate begins and ends almost always with one name..... Ty Burna.

Showtime David Cougar is seated behind his desk on The Show. The set is cast in darkness with a single spotlight shining down on Showtime.

Don’t get me wrong. Unlike Everest who I spoke about last week, Ty Burna is more than deserving to be considered among the best and most legendary in WZCW’s history. He’s won three different titles and holds the record for the longest title reign of any kind in WZCW history. The fact that it was while holding the WZCW Title only makes that record more meaningful, but Ty Burna was a man who was not without his faults. He was an evil man who picked upon the weak. There was no weakness that Ty Burna didn’t jump on and take advantage of. He surrounded himself with younger, newer wrestlers, as he tried to control and destroy WZCW for his guilty pleasures. Ty Burna never tried to contribute anything towards WZCW. Had it not been for people like me there may not even be a WZCW to speak of today.

While Ty Burna did enjoy a run as WZCW Champion that nobody in this company has come close to duplicating, it was time itself that eventually lead to his downfall. Ty Burna had one of the greatest peaks in terms of a wrestling career compared to anyone else in the profession, but once the bubble burst, Ty Burna was a mere shell of his former self. He aligned himself with others to do his bidding and eventually they all turned there backs on him and just like that Ty Burna was no more, nothing left of him but a memory, a memory that stands to last the dawn of time and forever absolve him from any of his wrong doings and faults.

Showtime looks down from the camera and clenches his fist. He relaxes and looks back up more calm.

I want to talk to you all about somebody who is also famous.... Titus. You see this man was famous before he came to WZCW. He had a brilliant movie career before stepping into the squared circle and because he was so well known he instantly became one of the most anticipated and talked about wrestlers to debut in WZCW. He’s enjoyed a rather lengthy career here and reached his very own peak when he won the WZCW Title at Kingdom Come II. At that moment it ended Titus being a movie star trying to be a wrestler and turned Titus into a wrestler, but what has Titus really done since winning the WZCW Title. He held it for a couple of months, lost it, was forced into retirement and since coming back he has done nothing. It’s been over a year since he has won any sort of meaningful match. Titus missed the prime of his career when he was forced into retirement and now he’s trying to get it all back while he still has the time. Truth is, Titus should’ve stayed in retirement or gone back to acting. He’s proved that as a wrestler he is not legendary and as the loses continue to pile so too does the legend fade away. Titus I understand why you’re angry, I understand your frustration towards me, but please listen to the advice I’m giving you. Retire now, while you’re still able to walk, while you call still make a living entertaining people by playing pretend. You’ve been doing a good job pretending to be a wrestler since winning the WZCW Title, I’m sure the transition back to acting won’t be a problem.

One final note, this week I will be appearing on WZCW TV and I will address my future with WZCW. What I will be doing at the highly anticipated Meltdown 100 and what my plans will be beyond that? Stay tuned to WZCW, you won’t want to miss it.
 
MY RP last round:

Issue #2: Two and a half months​

Narrator: On the last issue of Haven: Our green hero graduated from the Hero Academy and was assigned an internship in order to complete the final training it takes to become a hero. That internship is being nestled deep in the roots of WZCW. He was endowed with the task of fighting evil in the ring and out of it in the deep dark underbelly of WZCW. By way of the Havenmobile (a motorcyle with a U-haul attached to it), Haven left behind his friends from the academy and ventured to WZCW HQ. There he met Hero Academy legend Giles the Bold, who has devolved into an overweight Head of Security at the HQ. Giles is to keep track of Haven’s progress while Haven competes in WZCW. After taking down the dreaded Ballrantula and foiling the evil plans of Yani the Janitor, Haven was able to impress Chuck Myles and secure a spot on the WZCW roster with a little help from Giles.
Click to expand...

[Author’s Note: Haven’s interaction with Grizzly Bob in Bearhug’s RP 2 months ago is considered non-canon. No offense to him, but he added some dialogue from Haven himself that did not reflect on the character. Haven would never quit so soon after starting the hero internship he started in WZCW. Anyways, let’s get to it.]​

We start the scene with a hazy-eyed Haven, dressed in full superhero attire, but with a nightcap on. He is pulling the covers up on his body as he lays in a cot inside the tiny U-haul that is attached to the back of Havenmobile. It is in the late night after Haven and Grizzly Bob successfully beat the Demon Foreigners on Aftershock 29. Haven lets out a long stretch.

Haven: Well, I would call today a success, but man am I beat! Tomorrow, I will wake up early and start heading towards the next location of WZCW’s set of shows!

Haven gets starry eyed as he feels a wave of great inspiration!

Haven: I’ll make my friends, Black Hawk, Giles, and even that wiley rascal, Chuck Myles, proud! Just wait and see!

Haven reaches up to pull on a dangling string that is attached to a lone light in the U-haul.

Haven: Goodnight Havenmobile and hello to the future!

Haven turns off the light and quickly falls asleep underneath the comfort of his blanket. A cliche image of turning hands on a clock appears on screen as they quickly speed around the clock. The scene shifts and we hear the annoying chirp of an alarm clock coming from next to the cot Haven is sleeping on. Haven moans as he reaches up for the string to turn the light on.

Haven suddenly becomes aware of his folly.

Haven: Oh crap! I overslept!

Haven grabs the alarm clock and appears shocked by the date on the top right corner of the chirping alarm.

Haven: By 2 ½ months! Oh, gosh! Myles and Giles are going to kill me!

Haven flings out of bed and pulls up the door of the U-haul. Haven squints from the blinding light of the outside world. He shuts the door behind him and locks the hatch. Haven then looks around at the bustling scene around him. Something seems off, but he can’t quite make it out. Several people usher past Haven and the Havenmobile as they seem rushed to continue their daily lives. From an aerial view we see that Haven’s get-up is parked on the side of the street in-front of a parking meter. He had to take up two spaces just to fit it in between the other cars that line the street.

Haven rushes up to a man who is walking past.

Haven: Sir, can you tell me where the nearest highway is?

Man: Sichern Sie aus grünhaarigen freak!

The man storms and assimilates back into the crowd of people walking by.

Haven: What the hell?

Haven spots a more friendlier looking woman and speaks to her.

Haven: Mam, please can you help me?

Woman: Sprechen Sie nicht zu mir. Ich bin auf dem Weg, um eine Ente Kick Justin Cooper in den Arsch zu sehen.

The woman storms off.

Haven: What about Justin Cooper?

Suddenly, Haven stops dead in his tracks. He comes to the realization that AF29 took place in Germany. The 2 ½ month hibernation must have made him forget. Haven smacks his own forehead.

Haven: Duh!

He rushes over to the Havenmobile. As he reaches the bike he sees that it is covered in pink parking tickets.

Haven: Swoosh!

Haven spins around in a tornado like fashion and blows the pink tickets off the motorcycle.

Haven: Take that Hitler!

Haven revs up the bike and zooms out into the street. He presses a button on the motorcycle’s console.

Off-Star: This is Off-Star, how may I assist you today?

Haven: Yes, I need directions to the next location of WZCW’s shows.

Off-Star: Off-Star has found that WZCW is in Orlando, Florida. However, Off-Star has located your position as being in Cologne, Germany. Will you be taking a plane?

Haven: No, I’m driving a motorcycle with a U-Haul attached!

Off-Star: Oh, well then would you like the illogical montage route? Of course, it will be an additional fee.

Haven: Yeah, yeah. Whatever it takes!

Off-Star: Alright, I see that Black Hawk is still the primary account for this service. Shall I charge him with the payment?

Haven pauses for a moment.

Haven: Yes…

Off-Star: Alright, hold-on. Activating illogical montage to get you from Germany to Orlando.

The scene suddenly turns into a close up of Haven as a semi-transparent map overlays the screen. We see a red line span the globe on the semi-transparent map to represent Haven traveling. Also, Rocky music is playing the background. This goes on for several seconds until the montage abruptly ends and we see Haven pull in front of the CFE Arena in Orlando, California.

Haven lunges off the bike and makes a mad dash into the arena. The scene cuts to a shot of Myles and Giles talking in a hallway. Suddenly, Haven rushes up to both of them.

Giles: Haven?!

Myles: Good god, where the hell have you been?

Haven tries to catch his breath.

Haven: I- I-uh overslept.

Myles: For 2 ½ months?

Giles: Totally irresponsible!

Haven: Look, I know. I promise it won’t happen again. But I need my spot back on the roster. If I don't get it back they will flunk me at the academy!

Myles: Fat chance. I only gave you a chance in the first place because I owed Giles a favor. Do you really think I’ll just put you back on the card after you no-showed the last 2 months?

Haven: Two and a half months, but that's beside the point. Look, I'll plead my case in the most mature manner possible.

Haven drops to his knees in a begging position.

Haven: Pleaseeeeeee! I neeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeed this in my life!

Myles looks down at the pathetic Haven and then over at Giles.

Myles: Oh get up! Stop your pleading and have some dignity.

Haven jumps up with a happy look upon his face.

Haven: Does that mean I’m back in?

Myles pauses for a moment as he makes an unamused look.

Giles: Come on, Myles. Remember what he did to that you know what?

Myles: Fine..., but you are on my watch list now. One more screw-up, even the tiniest thing, you are gone. And you too, Giles. You are vouching for him, so you better keep him in line.

Haven: Thank you, Myles! Thank you!

Haven goes for a hug, but Myles stiff arms him back.

Myles: One more thing. The card is already drawn up so I’m going to have to knock a guy off in order for you to get on it. I feel bad for this particular individual. We’ve had to pull him off the show last minute several times, now. I don’t have the heart, nor care, to tell him again that he isn’t competing. You do it!

Haven: Ah, man. I kind of feel bad now.

Myles: Don’t. Trust me, he is used to it. His name is Triple Question Mark.

The scene abruptly changes to Haven walking down a hallway with Giles by his side.

Haven: Oh, Giles. I don’t know if I can break it to this guy that he won’t be on the card. He sounds like an okay guy. I mean, how bad can a person with three punctuation marks be?

Giles grabs Haven’s arm sternly.

Giles: Listen, Haven. Because of you my job is on the line. Also, I’ve been covering your butt with the Hero Academy for the last two months. You are going to go in there and tell him he is off the card. Got it?

Haven: Actually, it was two and a-

Giles: Haven!

Haven replies timidly.

Haven: Got it.

Giles: Good. Now, here is his locker room. Get in there and break his heart.

Giles walks off and leaves Haven to take a big gulp. He then opens up the door and sees a scrawny man wearing a t-shirt with three question marks, a mask with three question marks, and wrestling tights with three question marks down the sides of each pant leg. Three Question Marks (TQM) looks up at Haven.

Haven: Hey there! I assume you are Three Question Marks?

TQM: Yeah! How did you know? Also, everyone just calls me TQM for short.

Haven: Ah, alright TQM.

Haven awkwardly makes his way over to TQM, who is sitting on a bench. Haven sits next to him.

Haven: Look, buddy, I am sorry, but Myles sent me here-

TQM: Just stop, you don’t have to continue.

TQM lowers his head with a sad look.

TQM: I’ve heard this a million times. I know, I’ve been pulled last minute for some big returning superstar, huh?

Haven: Maybe not that big, but yeah, pretty much…

TQM sighs.

TQM: I don’t even know why I try anymore. This has happened so many times! I should just quit wrestling, but it’s not like I’m good at anything else.

Haven: Hey, come on now!

Haven puts his arm around TQM like a buddy would do.

Haven: I am sure there are plenty of things you are good at. I mean, come on! Look at you.

Haven gestures at the scrawny man covered in question marks.

TQM: Really? You really think so?

TQM’s face lights up as it appears Haven is the first person to see potential in him.

Haven: Yeah! Come on! I’ll help you figure out something that you are really good at!

TQM: Alright! Let’s go!

They both jump up and we switch to a scene at a professional basketball game where several men are lined up in a row. They have painted letters on their bare chests that spell out “Go Magic”. We see Haven navigate TQM to the end of the row and position him at the end of the group. The big-screen in the arena shows the group as they read “Go Magic???” The man with the painted g on his chest screams out.

G-Man: I feel very conflicted right now!

The G-man runs off with a depressed look as the rest of the group glares over at our green hero and TQM. Haven dawns an awkward face as he pulls TQM away from the brooding row of painted men. The scene changes and we see Theron Daggershield talking to a backstage hand. The backstage hand poses him a puzzling question. Suddenly, we see Haven hold the scrawny TQM over Theron’s head and makes the illusion that appears to be question marks floating over the inquisitive D&Der. The backstage hand shakes his head disapprovingly, which prompts Haven to slowly lower TQM and back away with a defeated look upon his face.

We return to the locker room where Haven and TQM first met. Haven looks displeased with his lack of success on helping TQM find something he is good at it.

TQM: Don’t worry Haven. You gave it your best shot. Let’s just face it, I’m a nobody. Always the one advertised, but never the one who gets to compete. I was really prepared to face Darren Bull this round too. I’ve been around the scene long enough to know that he is barely respected and well-hated among the community. It was a chance for me to make my debut against a sub-par opponent and get the crowd really behind me. But, oh well.

Haven looks really sad as he has failed his new pal.

TQM: But, hey! Going out today made me realize that my place is here in the company. Even it is me always being pulled off the card last minute. One day I know I will get to compete. If I can have faith in that, then I think I’ll be alright.

Haven shoots a small half-smile towards TQM.

Haven: At least you are in good spirits, man.

TQM: Thanks. You really helped me today. Most days I’m just told to go home and that’s it. Thanks for actually investing some time in me. I just wish I could meet the jerk that took my spot this time. Man! I really thought this one was mine. If he was here right now, I would hit my finisher on him!

Haven: Uh, TQM.

TQM: Yeah?

Haven: Let’s pretend for a moment that I am the guy that took your place.

TQM: You….?

TQM looks to be in disbelief.

TQM: YOU?! The same guy that no-showed for 2 months?!! You are replacing me?!!?

Haven quietly responds.

Haven: Actually, it's 2 and a half.

TQM roars as he lunges towards Haven. The green hero has little time to react as TQM cocks back his fist.

TQM: Punchtuation!

TQM slugs Haven in the jaw, but Haven doesn’t hardly budge. The scrawny man’s punch has no effect and leaves no mark (no punctuation mark to be exact... heh.heh.heh). TQM then turns around and storms off.

Haven runs out the locker room and yells at him down the hall.

Haven: I’ll never forget you TQM! I’ll defeat Darren Bull so that your sacrifice is not in vein!

TQM: Piss off!

With that, TQM exits through a set of doors and leaves Haven alone in the hallway.

Haven: There goes the greatest punctuation to never compete in this business. Godspeed TQM, godspeed…

The scene ends with Haven admiring TQM in his absence.
 
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