It was this match-up several rounds ago that gave Barbosa a nod for a #1 Contendership match for the World Heavyweight Title at Kingdom Come V. Now, both men are on the other side of the fence. Barbosa is title match bound while Holmes flounders in the wake due to the pesky Saboteur. Does the madman Barbosa still have the Elite's number, or will this match have a different ending than their previous encounter.
Deadline is Wednesday, September 4th, 11:59 PM Central Time. Extensions via request.
Leon Kensworth: Ladies and gentlemen, I am joined at this time by the #1 Contender for the WZCW Championship, Barbosa!
*The camera pans out to show a rather jovial but not Manic Barbosa.*
Leon Kensworth: Barbosa, given your last interview with Stacey Madison where you refused to divulge your plans, it would seem futile for me to ask whether you would like to explain your actions this past week. So, instead I would
*Barbosa places a hand on Leon's shoulder, stopping the interviewer in his tracks.*
Barbosa: Leon, on the contrary, we would very much like to answer that question
*A long pause ensues with Barbosa staring at Leon and leon staring at Barbosa, both expecting the other to speak. It is only when Barbosa cajoles Leon to continue that the awkward dead air is finally broken.*
Leon Kensworth: So Barbosa why did you attack Showtime Dave Cougar on Meltdown?
Barbosa: See, Leon. Was that really so difficult?
*The unsettlingly normal Barbosa turns a bit more towards the camera but remains personable and retains the conversational tone.*
Barbosa: What is there to say about that incident? Indeed, what is there to say about Showtime Dave Cougar that has not already been mentioned so many times? The only three time WZCW champion; winner of the Lethal Lottery; the only Grand Slam champion in WZCW history
His list of accomplishments really is endless.
*With that, the gentile Barbosa is replaced by a more serious countenance.*
Barbosa: And that is where we come in
We intend to end that list.
*Barbosa places his hands on his hips and looks up towards the sky, smirking before releasing a dismissive grunt.*
Barbosa: "An eye for an eye."
That is what Showtime Dave Cougar said to us.
"An eye for an eye."
The philosophically minded might claim that that such an approach "leaves everyone blind."
And there is some logic in that. Except for when it comes to the end.
"An eye for an eye leaves everyone blind." Except for the last man standing.
Now, he might be maimed, half-blind even, but if he is willing to accept grave injury to come through the cutthroat world of "an eye for an eye" then that world is his.
We have demonstrated throughout our time in WZCW that we are willing to through anything and everything, anyone and everyone to get what we want.
We are that last man.
And after Redemption, that world will be ours once more
*Barbosa turns back fully towards Leon, indicating to the intrepid interviewer that he has finished his philosophical rant.*
Leon Kensworth: Strong words for the WZCW Champion but what did you think abo
*However, before Leon can finish asking his next question, Barbosa interrupts him with a frustrated outburst.*
Barbosa: You know what, there is something we want to get off our chests about Showtime Dave Cougar.
*Barbosa turns to look straight down the camera lens as if he is talking directly to the WZCW Champion.*
Barbosa: Cougar, you are a fraud.
You want nothing more than to wallow in your own crapulence while occasionally tugging at the emotional heart strings of the audience by feigning retirement.
But while such ploys may get you a momentary boost in popularity through pity and fear of change, you must surely know that your real popularity is on the wane.
Our destruction of Steven Holmes garnered more of a pop than anything you have done in the last two years and the crowd was more riveted by our TKO of Celeste Crimson than all of your WZCW title wins put together.
That alone should tell you that the crowd want something new.
Something real.
Something different.
Something dangerous.
And that, again, is where we come in.
For you see, Showtime, in giving the audience what they really need we will be exposing you. Rather than sneak up behind you, we walked straight down that aisle, got into the ring, looked you right in those eyes you would have us pluck out and only then did we make our statement.
But you know what, that is okay.
We have no problem with that for it is to be expected. Not just of a fraud like you but of someone who is afraid of us. Of what we can do. The Empire, Constantine, Steven Holmes, Celeste Crimson - they all blindsided us because they were afraid.
But again, that is okay.
It is okay because we have a plan for you, Dave. And it is one that you are going to like.
Having spent the better part of the last year dealing with a drunken, woman-beating conspiracy theorist and a rich, evil aristocrat and his platinum, White Russian arm candy, we thought that you deserved a change.
Or more accurately, a return; a return to your defining days in WZCW; a reminder of your past struggles; a refresher course in what it is like to tangle with a monster.
That is why we laid you out on Meltdown. Not to show the audience that we could or to force you to reveal to them the fraud that you are in sneak attacking us, although you most certainly did that.
No, we did it to remind you of your own past greatness; to remind Showtime Dave Cougar of the man he used to be - the slayer of monsters; the confronter of Tyrants.
But we also did it to remind you that there were monsters that you failed to overcome. You might have gotten a brief upper hand or the final word on a Meltdown or a PPV, but when the chips were down, the tyrannical monster prevailed.
Now, you have won matches against us in the past. Even on the grandest of stages.
But in the end
*Barbosa points to himself.*
Barbosa: This tyrannical monster will prevail
*As Barbosa seethes, Leon shows reticience in continuing the interview even though he clearly has a question for his anger monster of a interviewee. Despite staring straight into the camera, Barbosa notices the wavering microphone Leon is attempting to raise in order to ask his question.*
Barbosa: WHAT ?
Leon Kensworth: I er just wanted to er to get your thoughts on facing Steven Holmes this week
*Barbosa's frustration seems set to completely boil over until all of a sudden, that frustration drains away and the seething monster is replaced by the normal Barbosa of the beginning of the interview.
Barbosa: Yes, the former WZCW Champion.
We would be lying if we were not wary of not just what Holmes has planned for us in revenge but also what Ms Crimson will want to do following her high profile defeat to us at Kingdom Come.
You know what they say about a woman scorned.
*With that, Barbosa gives an unnaturally natural laugh, which clearly makes Leon more than a little edgy.*
Barbosa: But, no. We are really looking forward to another tough test in the ring on Ascension. Vega provided us with a hard hitting contest and we could see why he is a long-reigned WZCW Mayhem champion and Steven Holmes will provide another step on our preparatory road to Redemption. Although we are beginning to wonder who we have annoyed in the match-making department. First Ms Crimson, then Vega, now Holmes. Who are we to expect next before we get to Showtime? Is Everest being dragged out of retirement? Has Joseph Rios been found?
*Barbosa again lets out another unnatural laugh as the creeped out Leon brings an end to the interview.*
*For the first time in a long time, the poker room is empty.
No complaining.
No contemplating.
No conspiring.
Just silence.
It does not last very long.
The door slams open to admit not just the seething Smoker but also the bounding Manic and lastly the hunched Depressive.*
The Smoker: What the hell was that?!?
*The Smoker puts on an exaggerated impression of the beginning and end of the interview with Leon Kensworth, which draws a giggle from the Manic.*
The Smoker: "On the contrary, we would very much like to answer that question " and "ou know what they say about a woman scorned."
And why did we stop when we were on a role?
When we were putting Showtime in his place?
When we were
Depressive: Shooting our bolt? Wasting material that might be better used for Redemption? Becoming blind to the fact that there are others in our path before we get to Showtime? That distraction nearly cost us our match with Vega and it certainly meant that Showtime got the drop on us in returning the favour we granted him at the top of Meltdown
The Smoker: So you went with a blended version of us rather than a true version - calm but not depressed, cheerful yet not Manic.
Depressive: Indeed. It seemed the best way to present a conundrum for our opponents. Especially Showtime. On the one hand, he will see the monstrous us in the ring and on the other the polite mild mannered man who is willing to give interviews and answer questions and even do shopping mall openings.
The Smoker: But with room for an angry outburst
Depressive: Yes, but only in moderation. And at the right time.
*The Smoker thinks on this for a second and seems becalmed by the idea of being allowed to be intermittently explosive.*
The Smoker: And can all of us follow such planned chaos?
*The Smoker is clearly aiming his comment to the other member of the Barbosan Triad who has yet to speak since entering. However, as the Depressive and Smoker looks around towards where the Manic was standing upon entry, they find him missing.*
*Straight from the interview with Leon, Barbosa had raced through the backstage area and hoped into the back of an awaiting limousine.*
Barbosa: Hey, buddy!
SHIT: Reciprocal salutation, ally!
*As the limousine drives off, the manbot seems uncomfortable in the plush surroundings.*
SHIT: SHIT does not require such transport.
Barbosa: But you are a champion now, Poo! So you have to travel like one! No more warehouse hotels or overnight plane journeys in package class.
SHIT: Now it is first class seats and stretched limousines all the way!
*SHIT continues to not seem convinced.*
Barbosa: What is the matter, Poo?
*SHIT gestures to its golden garb and accoutrements
SHIT: Others have suggested that this one looks ridiculous.
Barbosa: Let us ask you - were any of those others champions?
SHIT: No.
Barbosa: And who has been a champion?
SHIT: Barbosa.
Barbosa: Then who knows better?
*When SHIT does not immediately parrot the same response, Barbosa takes a different tact.*
Barbosa: And of course there is the hidden reason behind the outlandish dress
*SHIT cocks its head to the side in its recognisable act of query.*
Barbosa: It allows you to get back some of the early mystique and misdirection that saw competitors underestimate SHIT. Much like how we have done on numerous occasions - appear silly or distraction in able to help ourselves.
*Barbosa stops for a second like he is trying to remember something he just barely heard recently.*
Barbosa: It seemed the best way to present a Countdown conundrum for our opponents
*SHIT takes this idea on board and computes its meaning.*
SHIT: It will help SHIT destroy?
*Barbosa nodds in the affirmative.*
Barbosa: It will help SHIT to destroy.
SHIT: And S.H.I.T. exists only to destroy!
Barbosa: Yes!
SHIT: FOLLOW UP QUERY: what purpose does our destination have? How will taking part in the inauguration of an arena for meatbags to purchases unnecessary items help this one destroy?
Barbosa: It is a supermarket.
SHIT: That is what this one said.
Barbosa: And food is hardly unnecessary.
SHIT: It is for Scaled Humanoid Industrial Technology!
Barbosa: It also sells oil.
SHIT: VITAL LUBRICATION!
Barbosa: As vital as popularity is in keeping SHIT in a position to destroy. And there is no easier way to get popularity than to cut a ribbon and kiss a few babies at a supermarket opening.
*SHIT again processes this insight.*
SHIT: This ones databanks suggest that being dressed in all this gold and holding a large cigar whilst kissing an underage individual will get Scaled Humanoid in trouble with the law. If carried on for a prolonged period, it could lead to an enquiry.
*This brings an awkward silence to the limousine. Eventually, Barbosa breaks it by changing the subject slightly.*
Barbosa: You also need to be prepared to say a few words.
SHIT: SUGGESTED TOPIC OF PUBLIC ADDRESS?
Barbosa: We don't know being a wrestler? Being a champion? Drum up interest in WZCW by talking about your match on Meltdown.
SHIT: UNDERSTOOD!
*As SHIT started to calculate what it might say, it failed to notice Barbosa smiling to himself about the situation he had put his robotic colleague in.*
The night is alive as the bright lights come from the big city, casting a glow across the horizon and beyond. Darkness may have come, but it is struggling for air. Then, as we glance across the citys skyline, a series of lights die. Street lamps, skyscrapers, homes, you name it their power dies. The city is consumed and it is apt time for some unruly behaviour. Some relish making a racket in such conditions and others thrive on making a scene, but Enrique Escobar prefers the quiet and clinical approach. His name may be unfamiliar even to those in Mexico City, but he is a famous soul, for he goes by another name; Fantasma or Ghost to those English speakers out there. Fantasma started out as a childhood dream for Enrique. He had long adored the world of Lucha Libre. The emotion it evoked, the drama it created and the madness it caused. It was the pinnacle for young mens dream, and Enrique wanted to become Fantasma. His costume all in white, even his mask which would cover his face entirely. He would be sly, deceptive and yet powerful and rugged. He would be the character everyone adored; men would want to be him, women would want to be with him and kids would worship him as a demigod. Alas the fate was not to be Escobars.
His life took a tragic turn when his parents mysteriously disappeared and he landed himself in an orphanage. It was the kind every kid dreaded; the bullies were bigger on the inside than the out, the people who ran it were cruel and it left his soul twisted. Heck, he resented wrestling from that time onward because it no longer represented a prosperous future, but a reason to be punished and a fulfilled dream. Now the path of Fantasma was far different. A brutal upbringing left Enrique cold and calculating. He was gifted in gymnastics and had great potential, so great in fact that it provided a way to escape from the orphanage. He was offered a shot at national level competitions, but much like his parents, just when his life seemed to reach a peak, he disappeared mysteriously. There was no trace of the young man. A search was conducted but ultimately unfruitful. He was legally declared dead and so Fantasma lived!
Living in a world of reality, Enrique Escobar turned to the dark underbelly of this world, even after it had shown its back to him. He began working as a spy for certain criminal organisations using a name and a costume, no longer shining proudly in all white, but sitting grimly in total black. The Fantasma persona had progress through many stages from his spying early days to burglar, saboteur and ultimately assassin. Now he is a jack of all trades, working for the highest bidder, or at least that was what he did until tonight; you see tonight something very interesting happened. A man named Francisco Javier Gavilán, small time crook approached Enrique with a major task; blacken the city, sneak into a compound and steal documents that could lead to Franciscos incarceration. It wasnt for the highest price, but Fantasma went to work for one simple reason; the documents were in the possession of one Steven Holmes; professional wrestler and megalomaniac tycoon.
A power-hungry industrialist, Holmes believes himself of a higher class, a better breed. His perceived superiority is acted out in the ring to relieve stress and exert force that would be frowned upon in the business world; its good therapy arguably. Going by the nickname The Elite, Holmes has built quite the reputation both in and out the ring and Enrique Escobar sees this as an opportunity to do some therapy himself. Holmes operations had expanded far beyond his native United Kingdom long ago and in 2011 operations moved south from his new home of the United States and across the border in Mexico. Currently his Head of Operations in Mexico is a man named Ojos Sandaza, former bodyguard and world weary, leather-faced, moustachioed fiend. Holmes rarely visits the country, but hes here now and he has the incriminating documents. Or at least he did.
The bright lights surge back to full strength. We see no blur, no swooping figure in the dark clothing and no brilliant gymnastics; Fantasma has been, hes seen and hes claimed what his client wants. Two guards knocked out cold, but not a single person aware; Fantasma has vanished and now he seeks to return to Gaviláns base of operations whilst the man himself distracts the imperialistic aristocrat at Holmes own compound a scene we are fortunate enough to witness. We fade into a conversation just returning to normality:
Erik: What the bloody hell was that?
Gavilán: Power cuts; a semi-regular occurrence down in Mexico City Im afraid, mi amigo.
Our scene is dramatic and arresting as a play from the bard himself; a massive room, decorated in the finest sandstone and marble. It is almost a palace rather than one mans personal fort. The players are many as both Holmes and Gavilán are flanked by security; Holmes are dressed in standard black suit and tie with earpieces, while Gaviláns men also wear suits, but ones that appear lost in the 80s above all else. The polyester level is off the chart as the white jackets and purple, green and orange shirts are buttoned down to reveal hairy chests and gold chains; it is horrifically cliché. Behind Steven Holmes stands another of the same name; Erik Holmes also known as Erik the Red on account of the bloodiness of his past. He wears a waistcoat atop a simple shirt, the sleeves rolled up. As for the two men at the centre of our little play, they contrast wildly.
Francisco Javier Gavilán wears little to give away his true nature; his dress is casual and ordinary you could almost mistake him for a farmer with his fat moustache and flat cap. He looks desperately out of place but his slithering lips lurk under his hairy front; something dark lies beyond this simple exterior, almost something evil. He and his bodyguards sit on what appears to be comfortable luxury sofa. Opposite them is a man called many things, hell weve already described him as a megalomaniac and power-hungry, but he has also gone by evil, sinister, vicious, vile and so much more, but above all else he has believed himself to be a king and he sits in his castle, and when that happens, he does try and looks his best.
Steven Holmes is dressed in his best suit available, a matching number with his brother, only his sleeves are rolled down and the jacket is worn on top. His face is deadpan, but there seems to be a slight lift to his lips, nearly a smile, but not quite there. He sits in front of an enormous widow which has a backdrop of the city, including Gaviláns base of operations. Steven sits behind a large wooden desk wear a bowl of pale white mints sit. Above to his left hangs a portrait of a blonde siren in a white dress, her hair down in luscious fashion; Celeste Crimson. Her presence is never absent even if her body is not there. Then the two key players of this conflict lock eyes and a silence, a particularly uneasy one, fills the room. Then, Erik breaks it.
Erik: Well then amigo, lets recap what went down before the lights went out, shall we?
Gavilán: If you believe itll make your position in this negociación any better, then by all means compañero.
Erik: My illustrious brother has taken crucial time out of his ever so busy schedule to travel down to this country of yours as a direct result of purchasing the 38% of your factory which you didnt own. The remaining 62% is owned by yourself and my brother is willing to take it from you for a very fair price. And of course, if you needed any further incentive, my dear brother has also discovered some rather hideous truths about yourself Mr. Gavilán and has the e-mails and the photographs along with other documentation incriminating your good self, hombre.
The bearded Erik grins and chuckles lightly, believing he has his prey in a corner. Then, the smile disappears as Gavilán himself also begins to chuckle lightly. Soon his bodyguards join the party and they all break down into full scale howling, causing Steven Holmes to raise an eyebrow. Erik appears concerned. Holmes other bodyguards are unmoved.
Gavilán: Ill never sell you the remainder of the factory.
Gavilán becomes far more serious suddenly and begins getting more aggressive with his words and gestures.
Gavilán: De hecho, usted tendrá que hacer palanca de mis frías manos muertas.*
A sinister chuckle comes from deep within the belly of the beast as Gavilán returns to English.
Gavilán: Oh and your so-called evidence, Id check to see if its as full-proof and safe as you assume it is compadre.
A moment of panic overcomes Erik and it is his turn to become aggressive as Francisco and his men grin like Cheshire cats. He takes a step forward and the bodyguards ready themselves.
Erik: Why you--
Then, before Erik can live up to his nickname, his brother holds out his hand to stop Erik dead in his tracks. Erik looks at his brother wide-eyed before Steven, his demeanour still the same pulls the hand back and for the first time speaks:
Steven: Erik, settle down, we dont want our guests to feel too uncomfortable. After all, he believes he has the upper hand.
A smile cracks the face of Steven Holmes as Gaviláns expression inquires for him.
Steven: You see, Im not a fool, despite what recent events may have helped you perceive. It is true, I was defeated on the grandest stage of all before falling victim to a man who believes Whoopi Goldberg to be a diabolical mastermind of the fantastical kind.
Gavilán seems totally lost as Saboteur is referenced.
Steven: And the fact of the matter is Ive not really been quite all there since that first match with Barbosa. In fact his assault on me rattled a few screws, and weakened me in the knees right at the wrong time. If he hadnt driven me through a table and crushed my body, perhaps my mind wouldve been up to scratch, but we cannot dwell on the past. We must live for the future and what our future holds my dearest Francisco is my total and utter domination and takeover of your factory, assets and business. I wanted to play nice and ease you into your exile but your crude nature has forced me to pursue this matter far more aggressively.
Gavilán: Que ha perdido unos tornillos de la cabeza querida amigo.**
Steven: Oh Ive lost a few screws? I thought it was rather screwy of you to send Fantasma after the documents.
Sinking faster than the Titanic herself, Gaviláns face drops into a stunned sea of despair. Steven smirks before dipping hands into the mint bowl on the table. He brings one of them to his lips and before it enters his mouth, he utters one, defiant word;
Steven: Boom.
Suddenly as Holmes slips the mint into his mouth a colossal explosion goes up, igniting the night sky and burning the darkness. Screams and scenes of panic flood the streets as Gavilán stands aghast, the horror of Holmes omnipotence sinking in fully now. It was a trap all along. Holmes has snared his prey. The yellow and red bring with them doom and gloom and the shine of Holmes windows only helps enhance the colour spectrum.
Gavilán: Diablo...
Steven: Indeed.
Gavilán and his men begin to flee, exiting the door. Erik Holmes looks to his brother for approval as a smirk stretches across his craw. Steven nods and it is all the indication Erik needs to begin aggressive negotiations with Gavilán. He leads the rest of the suited security in pursuit while Steven rises from his chair and looks out to the window at his handiwork.
Steven: Farewell Enrique Escobar. You were already forgotten, but now youre gone.
Steven examines the reflection in the window and admires it as the real Steven Holmes looks back once again and he cant help but smile. He will be ready for the many faces of Barbosa.
*In fact, you'll have to pry it from my cold dead hands.
**"You've lost a few screws in your head dear friend."
This site uses cookies to help personalise content, tailor your experience and to keep you logged in if you register.
By continuing to use this site, you are consenting to our use of cookies.
