AS 44: Ricky Runn vs. S.H.I.T.

[Ty Burna]

Deadline is Tuesday, February 7th at 11:59 PM Central Time

 

[GI Cake]

The scene begins with the young Ricky Runn standing in front of a mirror. It was a Saturday night and Ricky was fidgeting with his tie, trying to do his best to straighten the tie. His friend, and future Agent Rob was standing beside him as the two spoke. Ricky started after growling lowly due to redoing the tie.

“I’m nervous Rob, I never really been on a date before…”

Rob cocks his head and says skeptically.

“What are you talking about? You’re a teenage heartthrob at Eastern High. I see you with a different girl at least every other week!”

Ricky laughed with his head down as he finishes the tie, only to have it too short. He undo’s the tie and continues.

“Well that’s completely different.”

“Is that so?”

“Don’t get me wrong, they were are all fine ladies. But none of them really compare to the class this girl I am going out with tonight.”

Rob couldn’t help but let out a scoff and say boldly.

“You mean the same girl that thinks a fun night is Skateboarding and paintballing? I highly think that is classy.”

“I never said she was regal, she just has my kind of class.”

Ricky once again finishes doing the tie, only to have it way to long. He growls as Rob goes.

“So if she is your kind of class, the tie isn’t really all that needed, is it?”

Ricky nods in agreement and throws the tie into the laundry bin and turns to Rob and goes.

“Well I’m ready to go, can I borrow your truck tonight?”

Rob rolls his eyes and nods before going.

“Yeah yeah, I guess. You really need your own car, you know that right?”

“I’m telling you, as soon as I can afford that 2011 Corvette it is all mine.”

“Right, like that is going to happen anytime soon.”

Then Ricky heads out and enters Rob’s old, red, and rusty pickup truck and drive away. Almost as if Ricky entered a time machine, he pulls up to a rather fancy restaurant in Chicago Illinois known as the Alinea. Now instead of an old, broken down Chevy Truck, Ricky is driving a 2012 black Corvette with gold paint trim. The daredevil jumps out of the car and hands the keys to a valet for him to park. On the way in he slips a $50 bill into the valets hands. Once Ricky enters the restaurant, he scratches his head as he looks about the fancy dining. As he walks about the restaurant, Ricky gets stopped by a waitress and asks.

“Um sir, do you know where you’re going?”

Ricky smiles and shakes his head and says with a smile.

“Yeah to be honest, I have no freaking clue. I got a dinner reservation and she said I should meet her here.”

The waitress cocks her eyebrow and continues.

“Who exactly are you looking for?”

Ricky looks about the restaurant as his eyes scanned each table looking for Emilia.

“Oh um, Emilia Stillwagon, she’s a bit shorter than me, long blonde hair. Killer eyes, can’t miss her.”

The waitress eyes widen as she says shocked.

“Oh my, you must be Richard Jackson! Please, please right this way.”

Ricky lets out a nervous chuckle before following the waitress to the table in the back of the restaurant. He finally spots Emilia wearing a lavish gold dress. Ricky eyes pop wide at the side but keeps his composure as he takes the lone seat across from Emilia, she grins as she says half-jokingly.

“I am going to assume this isn’t your natural element here, hm Ricky?”

Rick lets out a chuckle before shaking his head.

“What can I say? The last date I went on involved surfing downhill in grocery carts and a giant Pizza, high class isn’t really my ’element’”

“Fair enough, so please tell me, how did your match on Ascension go?”

Ricky sighed a bit and relaxed in the chair and said a little agitated.

“Not that great, if you don’t mind, I much rather not think about my shortcomings look towards the future.”

“And what is that future, if I may ask?”

There is a long, and awkward pause between the two before Ricky spoke up.


“The future, I honestly don’t have a clue, I’ve never had a clue on what the future can hold for me. Even back when I was a kid I just lived life one day at a time, what I have done and what I have accomplished wasn’t because of some pre-set destiny out there like some people like to believe. So to answer your question Emilia, I have no idea on what is out there in my future. All I know is that I am going to do my best to make that future, whatever it may be, and the best I can make it.”

Emilia nods her head while she listens to Ricky intently. The two than continue to carry on with their meal and through the night. The camera begins to fade away to Ricky and Austin training in Austin’s gym in Chicago, Illinois. Ricky and Austin were having a skirmish but with a light twist, Austin was using Ricky’s move-set against him. The two were constantly flying around the ring. Austin replicating Ricky almost perfectly, the moon saults, arm drags, everything. Shortly after the friendly match the two are sitting in the middle of the ring, a towel draped over Ricky’s head as the two take huge sips from their water bottles. Ricky looks up to Austin and says boldly.

“S.H.I.T is truly something else, he may not be like Mind over Matter, or on the level of Constantine and Holmes, but he is definitely not someone I should take lightly in the ring. On Aftershock, he was able to perform Triple X’s moves almost perfectly. The dude can really fly in the ring when he needs to.”


“Not as good as us though, mate.”


Ricky laughed and flinged a little water at Austin and continued.


“Of course, but that still doesn’t mean S.H.I.T won’t be able to follow up my move-set. I need to take everything I have learned, everything that has made me successful in Wrestling, and find ways to counter it. I don’t think I never had to do something like that.”

Ricky gets onto his feet and moves to a turnbuckle and sits on the top of it and continues.

“Not only that, S.H.I.T is starting to lose it. He thinks he is a robot, he doesn’t believe he can feel pain, and he is starting to get more and more dangerous in the ring. On Aftershock I could have sworn I saw sparks flying out of him. Not only that who knows what he did to Jack O’ Lantern before the match even begun. I used to be one of the biggest S.H.I.Theads in the backstage. But he is starting to get out of hand with the damage he is doing to other wrestlers. Ascension is where I make my stand and not only avoid any serious damage, but to end S.H.I.T’s streak on injuring and possibly killing other Superstars.”

Ricky then looks over to the championship case to stare at his Championship belt before continuing.

“And Austin, I love yeah dude. But this match I need to prove the doubters wrong about the stigma that hangs over our heads.”


Austin turns his head and asks curiously.

“What exactly is that Rick?”

Ricky takes a final sip out of his water before continuing.


“You are the Ratings Winner, you’re one of the best hi-flyers in WZCW history. You have been a staple in professional wrestling, you have accomplished so much in your time. You won the Elite X Title, you had possibly the feud of the decade against Ty Burna. Not only that, you are now one half of the greatest tag team in history with me. I’m still new and fresh to this business, I have yet to even have half the career you have had. Yet people still like to think I am the chink in the chain, the weakest link. And rightfully so, in almost every instance you have carried me and made up for my shortcomings. I’m tired of being saved, I want to prove the haters wrong, Runn Reynolds Runn is not a team of Reynolds carrying Runn, but the two of us being the best damn team we can be. And if it means I have to beat S.H.I.T to prove that, he better watch out on Ascension. Because I am not a pushover like Jack O’ Lantern, and I am a much better wrestler than Triple X, I’m the Second City Daredevil, I live for a fight like this.”

Austin grins from ear to ear and stands up as well and stands up as well and chips in.

“Trust me Ricky, you are one hell of a talented wrestler, and no one is going to take that away from you. I picked you as my tag partner for a reason, and I have never regretted it since. Don’t worry about proving anyone anything. Just focus on beating S.H.I.T, and do your thing. Now it’s late, I got get some sleep. You should too.”

Ricky nodded and hopped off the turnbuckle and onto the gym floor. The two exit the gym and turn off the lights to the small gym. The scene ends with a dim view of both championships glimmering in the moonlight.

 

[Miko]

S.H.I.T slowly emerges through the curtain, behind the machine comes a chorus of boo’s from the confused crowd, shocked at its actions from just a few moments ago. The robot ignores the sound, stops and raises its hands to eye level and looks at the red soaked fingers before it. Blood.

A noise disturbs S.H.I.T from its meditation, the robot looks up to see the familiar face of Jack Skinner. S.H.I.T and Skinner have crossed paths before and while their competition for the most part has been good-natured with no ill feelings, a look of disgust has crept across the journalists face. Whether it registers or not is unknown, S.H.I.T just continues on down the corridor.

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

Pitch black, dense and close, muffled voices can be heard, at least two of them. It seems they want to talk to it again, to use it for their own designs and then pack it away, such is the life of the weapon, used, cleaned, maintained and stored.

A thud and a loud creak, suddenly light fills the confined space, in the opening in front of S.H.I.T are three figures, although none of them had the face S.H.I.T had come to expect to see, the only one to have made an effort. Instead in front of the robot Vance Bateman is stood, with his arms folded and looking very tired indeed. Next to him are two of WCZW’s road agents, one is holding the crowbar used to lever the front of S.H.I.T’s battered box open.

With a casual gesture Bateman dismisses the other two men, who retreat back aways but not out of sight.

“Come out here S.H.I.T!”

The robot does as instructed. Bateman looks at the thing in front of him and rubs his hands up and down his face, a sure sign of a stressed mind.

“You know, when Johnny Klamor of all people is concerned for the safety of our competitors, alarm bells start to ring. Understand?”

Negative!

“I have enough to deal with” he almost spat “with the likes of Ty Burna running amok on Meltdown, getting involved in my show. I don’t need members of my roster trying to maul each other. Your actions. . .”

All actions performed were within the rules and guidelines of the match.

“You know damn well I am not talking about the match, what you did before, to that Jack O’ Lantern.” A minor but noticeable twitch from S.H.I.T. “It was nothing short of barbaric.”

There is a short pause, but it seems to last an eternity.

There is no proof of this occurrence.

Now it is Bateman’s turn to twitch.

“You came to the ring with blood on your hands.”

A metaphor? Humans use this tool a lot.

“Not a metaphor at all, you had. . .” S.H.I.T seems to spring into action now, advancing towards Bateman who heroically holds his ground.

When President John F. Kennedy was shot, it was not the rifle used that was arrested and convicted of the act, the man wielding the rifle was subjected to this treatment.

The robot is now face to face with the manager of Ascension, its cold red eyes staring straight into the other.

“Some would debate that fact. . .” He started but again is interrupted.

The metaphorical blood is not on the hands of the tool that implemented the destruction, but the organic matter that used the tool.

“I. . .”

S.H.I.T points at the road agents, hovering akwardly.

The crowbar was used to open the front of this crate, but it was the man behind it who truly performed the act, and it was you who gave the order to open it Vance Bateman.

"Your. . ."

If you have any issues you should seek out the wielder. Apologies that your time has been wasted. Goodbye Mr. Bateman!

The robot now retreats a few steps, leaving Vance standing alone.

"The wielder? What the hell are you talking about? Who is the wielder?"

No reply from the machine.

“I don’t know what the hell is wrong with you” he said, suddenly venting anger, almost hissing “but your on thin ice.

Another human metaphor!

"Get back in there, stay in there, come out when its time to wrestle!”

S.H.I.T will ensure to check the match card when it is posted! No sooner had it said that last sentence than S.H.I.T had reversed itself back into its crate and seemingly shut down. It's head hanging limply on its chest.

“Get the front back on that thing!” Bateman shouted at the road agents waiting in the wings, the two men rush to do as instructed and soon the box is back in the condition that they had found it in. Inside, the darkness had returned.

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

Ascension!

S.H.I.T vs Ricky Runn!

A slight twitch from the robot.

It is the night of Ascension and S.H.I.T is looking at the match card posted on the wall next to the entrance ramp curtain. Just like from AfterShock a few weeks ago, it has singled out its own match.

It stares at the name of its opponent for a long while.

Ricky Runn! It said again. The happy go lucky follower of the veteran Austin Reynolds, the apprentice and master. Perhaps merely two “friends” helping each other out?

Another twitch.

No! Worse! There are no pure motives with that particular duo. The apprentice, Ricky Runn latches onto the master in the hopes of achieving nothing but personal glory, a selfish desire that manifests itself whenever the creature feels the need to boast about his tag team title, a decoration he has to share with the other.

Another twitch, this time quite violent.

The other, the master, whom S.H.I.T has already defeated upon its debut, when it’s real purpose was still clear and it had not succumbed to weakness. Austin Reynolds found the other being defeated week after week in singles competition against better opposition, in an effort to prove his own superiority and remain relevant, he has carried his partner to their golden ornamentation.

The machine focuses, raises its arm and points its finger at the name on the match card.

The weapons business is with the apprentice tonight.

The human notion of fate could be considered, the fact that S.H.I.T defeated Austin Reynolds in its debut match and now faces the apprentice. Much has changed since that first day however, titles have been won and lost, alliances formed and broken. Through it all one thing remains constant, one thing always remains constant, only it was forgotten, the nature of the weapon was forgotten, replaced temporarily with weaker purposes.

From the very first time a rock was used in anger, to the very latest in modern technology. S.H.I.T indicates itself. The nature of the weapon has remained the same, always destructive. Only the motives and reasons of the humans behind it have changed.

S.H.I.T stretches out all of its fingers, as if reaching for the name on the match card.

Humanity's so called notion of "fate" would place Ricky Runn against the weapon as it returns to its original purpose, the purpose it had when it faced his master Austin Reynolds.

S.H.I.T’s outstretched hand begins to tighten, until it is clenched in a fist. It tilts its head to one side.

Ricky Runn’s destruction will not be enjoyed by many. It is a requirement. It is a necessity.

It lowers its arm.

It will be done.

Just beyond the curtain the crowd roars.

The countdown begins.

It is almost time to be put to use again.