WZCW Supershow II: Ricky Runn vs. Vega - Mayhem Title

[a0161613]

With the title still vacant and Connor Reese at odds with management over his actions involving the last title match, former tag champ Ricky Runn gets a chance to become Mayhem champ against the man who will feel wronged by the events at MD80.

Deadline is: 11:59pm Central, Sunday 11th November, extensions as per thread.

 

[GI Cake]

“I get knockdown but I get up again, you’re never going to keep me down” ~ Chumbawamba

Ricky was back at his apartment in Chicago Illinois he stared out to the balcony at the night life of the city. He leaned against the safety rail and took in a deep breath. Ever since Ricky’s return to WZCW has been lackluster. Ricky thought he would take the world by storm, he thought he would be in the main-event on his own, but all that blew up in Ricky’s face. A disappointing loss to Steven Holmes and then an even more disappointing loss to Triple X. Even the overly confident Ricky Runn was starting to doubt himself.

Ricky’s agent, Rob walked up behind his client and his friend. Rob was carrying a rather large backpack, but Ricky failed to notice it with his focus out to the city.

“It’s been a while since we’ve talked bud… taken the past few weeks a little rough huh?”

Ricky chuckled at his friends comment and said with a smile that started to grow on the face of the Daredevil.

"Heh, you're a lot of things Rob, never would have nailed you as the perceptive type."

"Is that a cheap joke at my glasses?"

Rob and Ricky then shared a glare before both of them chuckling. Rob and Ricky were two completely different people, yet seemed to click so well. Rob, stood next to Ricky and looked out to the city. Ricky then looked over to the city again and sighed.

"What happened man? These past few weeks... ever since I was attacked, I've just been in a rut, and I don't think I can crawl out of it this time."

Rob sighed and looked over to Ricky and said to him with a concerned voice.

"Ricky man... you've been in this business for a whole year. Hell a year ago, if you told me you found something you truly loved doing, and you had the drive to actually get it. I would have thought you were crazy... you've changed a lot man, a lot of it was good, but you lost a lot of what made Ricky, Ricky... you know?"

Ricky tilted his head and looked over to his friend and asked.

"Oh really? And here I am thinking you enjoyed me not sneaking into night clubs, jumping off of buildings or pissing off Vance Bateman and shoving me into handicap matches."

Rob smiled and nodded his head at the point Ricky made, Rob then responded.

"Well, as easy as you have made my job Rick, you just haven't been the same person. Austin Reynolds might have found that potential in you, but it's your turn to shine in your own way Ricky. You need to go back to what made Ricky the Daredevil."

A smile crept onto Ricky's face and said with a now devilish smile on his face.

"So you're saying I can plan my big 20th in Big Dave's office? I can get a big ass cake that Mikey can pop out of... actually, I think he might just eat the damn thing from the inside."

Ricky then turned his body to Rob and continued on his train of thought.

"So what are you getting at? If I go back to my old ways, I'll start winning matches again?"

"Not exactly... I watched Ascension Ricky, and quite frankly... you're going bonkers. You need to stay out of the gym, the film room, and the ring and spend more time enjoying yourself. All work and no play makes Ricky a very loopy monkey."

Ricky squinted his eyes at the comment towards the end.

"What did you just call me?"

Rob chuckled and shook his head and said with a playful grin.

"It doesn't matter what I called you man. Point is, you need to go out and enjoy yourself again. Once you're in the right state of mind, you can be as successful as you want to be."

"I want to be more than just Mayhem Champion Rob... I want the world title. I want to be known as the best, otherwise everything Austin and I accomplished as a team means nothing."

"You can win the World Title, one of these days Ricky, but like everyone who had contended for the world title, you have to earn it. There is no better way to prove you deserve a shot then going out and taking the Mayhem Division by storm. I don't know if you know this, but you are practically made for this division. If anyone knows what it means to put your body on the line for a thrill it's you Ricky. If I had to plant you in a group of anyone who had fought for the Mayhem title, you would be the one who would raise the bar on the amount of damage you would need to cause to win."

Rob then patted Ricky on the shoulder and Ricky turned and smiled to Rob. Ricky turned his back to the city view and said with a renewed confidence.

"Vega has really made a name for himself by being crafty. I'm not exactly the greatest ring general by any means, but Vega is going to need more than sly moves and a few submission holds to beat me. Austin and I faced Mind Over Matter for the tag titles. Not only were they crafty, but they were conniving. swindling, devious, deceitful, and would punch their own grandmother's in the kidney if it meant they would get a step up in the business. Not only did the gimmick of the match give them the obvious advantage, they had a ref that was for lack of a better word, a completely corrupt douche. In this match, Vega doesn't have any of those privileges. All he will have is the ring, me, and his stupid looking goatee. He can try and outsmart me, or try to use his wits to beat me, but I'm going to keep coming at him, and keep going at him until I have no more energy to continue, and even then I will keep going. The Mayhem Title is my ticket back to the top, and not a single goatee or an angry German won't change that... hey wait a second... what is in that bag?"

Rob grinned ear to ear and knelled down to pick up the bag and hand it to Ricky. Upon further inspection it was a parachute. Ricky's eyes opened wide and then shot up to his friend who said with a huge grin on his face.

"I got a helicopter ready to pick you up tonight. It can take you over the city where you can get a great view of Chicago before landing out in Lake Michigan. Go out, enjoy yourself. Get your head on straight, and then you can focus on your dream and be the greatest Superstar in company history. Just one step at a time."

Ricky smiled and nodded his head and made his way out of his apartment. He grinned and said with a smile.

"I guess you're not joining me huh bud?"

"Ricky, ever since last time I promised myself to never enter an aircraft with you ever again... so have fun."

Ricky rolled his eyes and gave off a salute before reaching the elevator. Once in the elevator, Ricky shared the rest of the ride with one of his fellow apartment members, an elderly lady who Ricky named affectionately Gran Gran. Gran saw the eager smile on Ricky's face, and the parachute strapped to his back and said with a surprised gasp.

"Oh my Richard... please don't tell me you plan on Skydiving at this time of night. I don't even know what you whipper-snappers find so great about those really tall heights, and wrestling. It's like you're 12 years old... why do you do the things you do Ricky?"

The question stuck a nerve to the young Superstar, but oddly enough Ricky had the answer. He took in a deep breath and looked up to the ceiling of the elevator and answered her.

"Why do we do anything in our spare time Gran Gran? Boredom, excitement, money, fame? More often or not when people asked me this same question I can never give them a straight answer. Thinking back now, I can tell you why I do the things I do. The parties, the stunts, the wrestling. I've done it all for attention at first... with my mom dead and my dad wanting nothing to do with me, I found solace at the center of attention from others. I didn't mind if people looked at me as the fool as long as I was looked at. Now though, after everything I've been through, after everything I faced, it became so much more then an attention seeker. People look up to me, they expect, no they demand I become the future of this business. I nearly drove myself to the brink of insanity trying to fit that image, that demand. Now though, I'm doing this for myself. I'm doing this because it is something, I'm good at, and it is something I just plain love wrestling. I love the attention, I love coming out to my music and the crowd cheers my name. You can look at the face of someone like Vega, and he doesn't have the same love, the same aspiration, the same drive as I do for this game. He does it for a paycheck, he does it because he thinks he's the king among squires. But really he's nothing more but a student of the game. Hell, I've been in WZCW for a year and I still have so much to learn, and so much to do before I can even consider myself on the same level or the same plane of legends like Ty Burna, or even Showtime for that matter. The Mayhem title means a lot to the fans. It's my golden ticket to the chocolate factory, and I plan on blasting through the glass ceiling with the Mayhem title wrapped about my waist."

When Ricky turned to look to Gran Gran for her views on the answer to her question, he realized that he had drifted off and Gran had left the elevator on the ground floor a long while ago. Ricky stood in the elevator and pressed the open button and said to himself.

"I really need to stop treating every question that comes my way like it is an interview..."

 

[Infinity]

The Gracie family is the most prominent name in Jiu-Jitsu worldwide. However, deep in the heart of Brazil, there lives a man who's name is only whispered on the streets and in the alleys. Those who timidly dare to speak of him have called him simply by his surname... Santos. The details of his past sketchy, at best. Through word of mouth, it is believed that Santos was once a close family friend with the Gracies. He's said to have been as adept and skillful in the art as the Gracie men themselves.


As the story goes, during the many training sessions he would have with the Gracie family, his aggression would displease them, and for good reason. It wasn't that Santos lacked the ability to control his emotions, it was simply that he refused to. Legend has it he has purposely broken bones of at least 4 Gracie brothers, whom have never publicly admitted to it happening. This disregard for his brethren's health and safety lead to the demise of Santos' relationship with the Gracie family.


Once believed to potentially be the best Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu practitioner in the world, Santos sank into anonymity for the rest of his life. Apparently, there are a select few who have had the privilege, or the punishment, of training with Santos. None have ever spoken of their experiences, and likewise, none ever trained with him twice.




-Open-



The scene opens up in in a Brazilian favela just outside of Rio De Janeiro, the most dangerous city in Brazil. In the middle of the the dirt street stands Vega, looking significantly different from his normal appearance. His hair is shaved down very short and he has no facial hair at all. He looks off towards a broken down home. There are metal sheets the next room is just as empty, but with less debris on the floor. There, sits a shadowy figure with his back towards Vega. It's facing the wall, just sitting on the floor with it's legs crossed. Without warning, it speaks...



Leave.



Vega squints as the male voice pierced through the silence. Calmly, he steps forward, closer to this man. With absolutely zero trepidation in his voice, Vega speaks up.



You know why I'm here, Santos.



Neither man moves a muscle. The shadow covered man, presumably Santos, seems unfazed by Vega's nonchalance.



So, how's it gonna be?



Still, no movement out of Santos. Vega, on the other hand, is now slowly walking laterally behind him, just pacing, never getting any closer to him, as he continues to speak.



Fine, but I expected a lot more out of you. It's a shame the legend is bullshit...



Vega then reaches into his coat and pulls out a silver .50 caliber Desert Eagle. He points it directly at the back of Santos' head and cocks the hammer back. Moments later, Santos slowly rises effortlessly without ever placing his hands on the floor. He turns and walks out of the shadows and directly towards Vega. He is an older man, perhaps in his late 50'. His head is shaved, and his tanned skin is scarred in various random places. His eyes, are bright green, and the stare directly into Vega's. Santos presses his forehead against the chamber of the pistol and smiles at him.



Vega smirks at him, as if he has just made the biggest mistake of his life, however it's at that moment that Santos grabs Vega's arms, leaps up into the air, and performs a flawless flying armbar. He brings Vega down and immediately snaps his arm in half. Santos gets up off the floor as Vega lies on the floor with a bone pierced through his skin and sticking out of the arm that was wielding the weapon. Vega yells in agony as Santos calmly grabs the fallen Desert Eagle laying on the floor next to his victim. He points the gun right at Vega for a few moments which seemed to take forever. Eventually, Santos, with one hand, dismantles the gun piece by piece, and drops it all on the floor. He returns to the shadowy side of the desolate room and sits back down on the floor with his back turned to Vega once again.



Leave.



Vega stares at him, slightly confused by his actions. He struggles to his knees while clutching his mangled arm. Vega staggers up to both feet and turns towards the exit. With his good arm, Vega reaches into the other side of his jacket pocket, and pulls out a second .50 caliber Desert Eagle. He turns around, points it directly at Santos' head, and pulls the trigger without hesitation. The gunshot roared throughout the room, echoing down the halls.



It was difficult to see within the shadows, but Vega recognized the noise. The familiar noise of a human being's brains violently splattered against a wall. Santos' shadowy figure slowly keeled over and fell the the side. With an annoyed look on his face, Vega returns his gun to the holster inside his jacket and once again holds onto his horribly broken arm. He shakes his head before turning around and walking out of the room as the scene comes to an end.





10 Years Later





We find Vega and Alexis walking along Union Square in downtown Manhattan, an area full with unique and annoying hipsters, artists, and tourists. They seem unfazed by their surroundings as they walk in this cold November weather. They seem relaxed, not on any kind of job.



So your arms never been the same after that?



Nope. But I live with it.



But, it forced you to tap out in your last match.



He got me in an armbar, plain and simple.



But, it wasn't even the opponent you were scheduled to face! I couldn't believe what was happening. It was surreal, why would somebody just give his title shot away to somebody like that? Besides that, it was totally unfair to you.



I don't care about the switch. There isn't a damn thing about life that is fair, Alexis. What can I do if Connor Reese wasn't man enough to face me? I'll take on anybody they put in front of me. That loss, I can't blame it on that, nor my past injuries. They were definitely part of the reason I lost, but ultimately... I'm the one that fucked up. I'm tired of fucking up, Alexis. I could have been Mayhem Champion by now, but instead... I've got to face Ricky fuckin' Runn. Great.



You're obviously happy about that.



The sarcasm is painfully obvious in her voice.



Yeah, what gave it away?


He replies with a similar sarcasm.


He wants to throw childish insults at me about my goatee? Really? What a loser. He does what I try not to do, harp on the past. I could care less about his success as a tag team wrestler, or all the alleged difficulties he had to face in his tag matches. Personally I think the punk should stop bitching about how hard winning tag matches were, stop taking stupid little trips in a helicopter, and focus and the most dangerous man he'll have ever stepped in the ring with. People like him need to fear people like me. I learned back then never to hesitate to pull the trigger and eliminate your target, it rarely works in your favor. And from that day on, when faced with a targer, I never hesitated again...



Until me.



Vega smiles...



Until you. Best decision I've ever made. But something tells me I won't grow a soft spot in my heart for Ricky Runn... and too bad for him. He would have made a good Mayhem Champion. Problem is, I will be a better one.


No hesitation... I'm taking Ricky Runn out, and bringing the Mayhem Championship home.



Alexis smiles as she sees the determined look on her partner's face. Vega looks over at her, and flashes a confident smile as the scene comes to an end.


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