AS 89: Cerberus vs Constantine and Hard Metal Penetration

[FlexAmerican Dynamite]

The Main event of Ascension 89 is sure to be a roller coaster ride as all three heads of Cerberus team up to take on Constantine and Hard Metal Penetration. With the hounds of hell all now sporting new championship gold they look to continue their winning streak against the now the former tag team champions Alhazred and S.H.I.T. as well as settle an underlying score with the The Elite's Constantine. The question is which trio will be walking out victorious?

Deadline is Wednesday, February 25th at 11:59PM CST. Extensions available upon request.

 

[Richard Blonoff]

Deadline has been extended by 24 hours.

 

[Dave]

Jefferson: Give them the old fire and brimstone, John!

Constantine opens his eyes, his fingers pressed against his forehead in an attempt to stem the sudden pain. Michael Jefferson was a talented Public Relations manager, there was no doubt. But social cues were definitely lost on him.

Jefferson: Really light a fire under their asses. They all came here to see the Power Trip. So you get out there and really give them everything you've got.

Constantine removes his fingers from his skin and gives Jefferson an incredulous look.

Jefferson: Okay, I get it; I'm sorry. You've been doing this for a while, I know. It's just... We've been hitting the campaign trail a lot recently, John. Your World Championship match is only weeks away and we have to try and accentuate that power within you. We have to get as many people onside as we can. You know as well as I do that no one is going to believe that you can beat Matt Tastic if you can't find the key to open the door to that venomous fire of yours.

Constantine opens his mouth to allow his words to begin to start pouring but gives it a second thought as Jefferson stuffs some final notes into his breast pocket.

Jefferson: This is it, John. So just go out there and give them the old Constantine diatribe. You've got this.

Michael Jefferson gives Constantine one final smile and a nod before patting him on the back and ushering him through the curtain onto a stage before hundreds of people. Truth be told, this meeting was not a big deal for Constantine. In fact, it was much more important to his back room team. And Constantine knew that they were right to be worried. In recent weeks, Constantine had found himself to be in somewhat of a slump; not professionally but emotionally. So much had been going on in his life lately that, it was thought, he had lost his way somewhat. But this was the event to turn it around. A hastily formulated meeting for fans and journalists that would leave no one in any doubt that Constantine was ready for the biggest match and opportunity of his life.

Constantine had thought a lot over the last couple of months whether everyone was right about him; was he mentally prepared for everything that was going on in his life? And as he glided across the polished wooden stage, the same thoughts that had plagued him since Revolution only became more and more prevalent, burning into his mind and obscuring his finely prepared words. As he reached the podium, an unfamiliar feeling hit him... Fear.

Constantine: Thank you all for coming...

The Power Trip coughs anxiously as flashbulbs and cameras clicked before him. He had spend his life in front of people and behind podiums but there was definitely something a bit different about this time.

Constantine: We are now just weeks away from the biggest match in my long WZCW career. And I just want everyone to know that...

Constantine pauses, his speech gentle and without any real emotion. He looks to his left to see Michael Jefferson peering through the black curtain; a look of sheer dread and shock on his features. With no hesitation at all, he balls up his fist in Constantine's direction, urging some of his trademark venom to flow freely. Constantine's jaw opens as he turns back towards the assembled crowd, the silence since his last statement now very noticeable. The sound of cameras clicking and the glow of flashbulbs now subsiding as everyone comes to terms with the fact that Constantine is not himself. Constantine's chest begins to speed up, forcing is breaths out in shorter bursts; his head becoming sweaty. Moving his gaze back to Jefferson at the side of the stage, Constantine is struggling. Jefferson motions for Constantine to reach for the cards inside his pocket; an attempt to salvage this meeting no doubt. Hurriedly, Constantine reaches into his pocket and collects the papers and sets them down, his eyes not fully averted from the masses.

Constantine: Uh, at the Gold Rush PPV in only a few weeks, I will take on Matt Tastic or Ty Burna for the WZCW Heavyweight Championship; depending on how the results of Meltdown go this week.

The number one contender's words are lifeless and without emotion, it is plain for everyone to see. His eyes have not moved from the papers in front of him as the noticeable silence continues; only interrupted by some light murmuring from within the crowd.

Constantine: And I am telling you right now, that neither man has a chance when they come up against one of the greatest Champions in the history of this great company...

John closes his eyes and exhales deeply down the microphone, causing a stir within the crowd as the sound of his exasperation echoes through the stereo system.

Constantine: Who writes this crap!?

The crowd jumps to attention as Constantine finally opens his eyes again, resting his hands on the wooden pedestal; his voice booming throughout the room without the need for a microphone. He stares towards Jefferson to his left who promptly pulls his head back through the curtain.

Constantine: I mean, who is going to believe this shit, am I right? Matt Tastic and Ty Burna are two of the best in the business right now. And yet I am expected to waltz into the middle of a WZCW ring and put them down for everyone to see? Well let me tell you all something right here and now, the impending Championship match involving John Constantine will be one of the biggest challenges of his career. And truth be told, I don't have a single clue whether I will be able to get the better of either of those men.

Another eerie silence fills the room as Constantine grabs the papers before him and crumples them up; throwing him behind him for good measure.

Constantine: That's not exactly what you wanted to hear, was it? You wanted me to come out here and tell everyone how good I know I am; and how dangerous I will be heading into Gold Rush? Well guess what? That's not going to happen.

The crowd seem puzzled but the emotion from Constantine seems much more genuine now as he leans on the wooden podium with one arm, the other resting moving along with his words as he speaks.

Constantine: All this talk; it's so cheap, you know that? When it comes down to it, the only thing that matters is who wants it more. And let me tell you something, I want it with every fibre of my being. But my very crafty Public Relations Manager wants to come out here and make myself seem like an unbeatable monster. He wants to reflect the image of a man who simply does not care about ramifications and who he comes up against at Gold Rush. But that's not true either. Words are cheap, everyone knows that. What really counts are actions. The same actions that meant that Matt Tastic left Revolution as WZCW Heavyweight Champion. You all seen those actions, right? Yeah, those were big actions.

Constantine smiles briefly as he relaxes some more, slipping back into his usual demeanour.

Constantine: And you know something? I've had a lot of time to think about what went down at Revolution, it's true. I've had a lot of time to digest the fact that Matt Tastic was too smart for Ty Burna. I've had a lot of time to think about how Mikey Stormrage pushed me to a level that I have never been before in any match I have ever wrestled in WZCW. But most importantly, I have a lot of time to think about how they handle themselves inside and outside of a WZCW ring.

Constantine finally stands up, a smile on his face and a look of pleasure in his eyes.

Constantine: Do you really think that when they leave the arena every night that they take all of their problems home with them? Do you think that Mikey Stormrage goes home and thinks about how unlucky he was not to beat me at Revolution whilst he buries his face in the latest video game that has struck his fancy? Do you think that Matt Tastic is meeting up with his table-mates every night to about how best to take down everyone who stands against them? No! You see, I sat in my study a few weeks ago, nursing the injuries that Mikey Stormrage gave me at Revolution as my pregnant partner cleaned up around me; her stomach protruding from under the T-Shirt that is now too small for her.

A small laugh goes around the room as Constantine smiles widely.

Constantine: And all I wanted to do at that moment was get to my feet and wrap my arms around her so tight that she would know that I loved her more than anything; that I have been so lucky to meet her and have her in my life.

Constantine stops laughing now, a more serious look on his features as he remembers that night.

Constantine: Unfortunately, I was taking a conference call with one Ty Burna as he raged about losing his Championship shot to Matt Tastic at Revolution. After that phone call, I began to question what is really important in this life, and I mean really question it. Before Meltdown 100, I was out of this company never to return. But upon my return, I knew that I would have to be supported by those closest to me. The Heavyweight Championship has always been the biggest goal of mine within wrestling, no matter what else is happening. But sometimes, those lofty wrestling ambitions obscure my personal ambitions. Do you honestly think that Matt Tastic and Mikey Stormrage are beating themselves up when they go home at night?! Do you all honestly think that they are kept awake at night when thoughts of choking on the biggest stage cross their minds?

Constantine rhetorical question lands heavily in the room; no one daring to speak out as he continues his diatribe.

Constantine: Matt Tastic have earned my respect these past few months. Not only have they been amongst some of the talented men in the business, they have shone a light onto my own lifestyle. A lifestyle that I know requires a lot or re-evaluation.

The Power Trip thinks about his own words now; silently contemplating as the assembled massed hang on his every word.

Constantine: And I am very aware that this speech sounds like something I would not normally say but perhaps I have been approaching this wrestling business in the wrong way. And I also understand that all of you will interpret my words differently and put your own connotations upon them. But let me make this entirely clear... I am not giving up on being the World Heavyweight Champion; not by a long shot. However, after 5 years of being in this industry, I am finally realising how to balance it. And Matt Tastic or Ty Burna should know that when we eventually do have our crucial match for the World Heavyweight Championship, that I will be more ready for them than I have ever been; more ready for them than I ever was for Showtime David Cougar at All or Nothing. And more prepared for them that anyone else they have ever come across.

Constantine stops himself as a few flashbulbs go around the crowd again and the crowd begins to settle.

Constantine: And this week, at Ascension, I will have a match against 3 Champions in WZCW. Truth be told, I would be lying if I told you that I wasn't torn about where my allegiances lie in this one. S.H.I.T and John Constantine have a long and fabled history; one that I will not soon forget. A truly gifted competitor that forms part of an even more talented Tag Team in Hard Metal Penetration. What I wouldn't have given for one more match to teach the Mandroid a lesson that he badly needs.

The Power Trip lets a look of trademark venom cross his features again as he thinks back to their match at Kingdom Come; the same match that made Constantine leave the company after losing his Elite X Championship the first time.

Constantine: But across the ring from us on Ascension will be an even bigger enemy; one that I have wrangled with for many months now. And one that I am sick to the back teeth of. Cerberus have been nothing but a cheap wannabe act for The Elite, there is no doubt about that. Truth be told, they remind me a lot what I used to be like; attaching myself onto people like Showtime David Cougar and Steven Holmes in an attempt to make myself more relevant and bolster my career opportunities. But you know something, this business is all about the individual. It has taken me 5 years to come to that realisation but not I see it clearly. I have seen the weaknesses in Cerberus; of which there are many. I have seen how vulnerable they are when they are not on their own. I have seen how scared they are when they face off against talents with real main event quality; like myself and my tag team partners at Ascension.

Constantine's smile appears once again, almost hauntingly.

Constantine: So let me make this clear to everyone here and everyone beyond. I am not Daddy Mack, I will not be phoning it in come Ascension. I am John Constantine and I am the number one contender to the Heavyweight Championship. I have shown, time and time again, how good I am in the ring. You can stand in your corner come Ascension, seemingly safe in your threesome. But make no mistake, I am a changed man and I will not be taking things lightly.

The Power Trip stops himself once again, fixing his tie around his neck.

Constantine: At Ascension, a new and improved Constantine appears. And maybe this wasn't the press conference that you all thought it was going to be. But, if nothing else, I have been honest with you all. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a meeting with my esteemed Tag partners in a few moments that will likely prove to be... Eventful. Thank you.

With that, Constantine leaves his podium and moves across the stage and through the curtain. There, the dejected and almost fearful face of Michael Jefferson waits for him. Without saying a word, Constantine brushes past him and into his limousine. Something had changed in The Power Trip and Jefferson knew it.

 

[Miko]

The former Tag Team Champions and the former Elite Champion share an awkward silence as John Constantine's limousine rolls smoothly along, each sat in their own world reflecting on the events of the previous PPV, the only sound that can be heard is the obnoxious slurping sound as Alhazred helps himself to more of the former Politicians champagne.

Finally, Constantine speaks up.

"So, where are we going?"

Alhazred washes the champagne around his mouth, making a sound which visibly repulses Constantine, "S.H.I.T seems to think that you and I need some tuition in how to be 'positive homo sapiens', so we are on our way to a convention in order to better ourselves as Human beings."

And Robots. S.H.I.T piped up.

"Yes, and also Robots."

"That's some very posh language you're using there."

"I have no idea what you mean..."

"'Positive homo sapiens'?" Asked Constantine with a raised eyebrow.

And not once did you s****** at the 'homo' in homo sapiens. The Machine put in.

"Well I, this is such as nice limo... and this champagne is so good... I just thought. Look, shut up! We are coming to our stop."

Constantine signals for the limo driver to pull over, "what, there?"

Affirmative.

"This convention is being held in a bank?"

S.H.I.T and Alhazred exchange glances. "Affirmative?" Alhazred said slowly.

Standing in the queue for the bank gave the Machine some unwanted quiet time, time to reflect upon uttering two words it never thought it would say, "I Quit", it almost shuddered recollecting the event. It was vaguely aware of Alhazred swaying too and fro in front of it while Constantine taps his foot impatiently behind.

That was where Cerberus had the advantage, it felt, common cause, one idea, true unity. S.H.I.T had experience of such, alongside Alhazred in the Apostles of Chaos. Since then however S.H.I.T and Alhazred had fought like cat and dog, only coming together again when Cerberus had targeted the pair after an attack of conscious had caused them to aid Amber Warren after they had nearly ended her career and potentially more. Together, with a common cause, Hard Metal Penetration had been as unstoppable as the Apostles of Chaos before them, Amber Warren had been a part of that common cause, humiliating Cerberus as well. S.H.I.T deduced that that was what had been lacking at Redemption, Hard Metal Penetration had become a bit of a mess, that combined with complacency had caused a spectacular downfall after being on top of the world. The Cerberus that turned up at Redemption had been a more dangerous beast than the one at Kingdom Come, and Hard Metal Penetration had failed to realise that.

Then there was Constantine, S.H.I.T would be forced to co-exist with the man who had once targeted the Machine with attack after attack after attack, a man who it had fought several battles with. They had a rivalry that was over a year old now, S.H.I.T had taken Constantine's Elite X Title, but before that Constantine had successfully defended that same title from S.H.I.T and would go on to run the gauntlet that S.H.I.T had failed.

Cerberus were a unified force, this trio was a powder keg. That was why they needed this exercise, but since The Machine couldn't find any "how to be a good guy" courses at short notice, or if any even existed at all, running errands would have to do.

Their next destination came into sight, a "Mal-Wart" that S.H.I.T could recollect once helping to open during its "Rapper Robot" days, S.H.I.T couldn't escape the feeling that Constantine was starting to work out that all they were doing was running errands.

"So this is where the convention is being held?" He asked dubiously, temper starting to get the better of him.

"Yesh.." slurred Alhazred.

Half an hour later the trio re-enter the limo with bundles of food shopping, Constantine actually deigning to carry one small bag, climbing into the limo last and commandeering a bottle of champagne.

"Hey I wash... drinking that!"

Constantine glares at the drunk Alhazred, "your point?"

"Nuthin'" a pause for a hiccup, "s'good vintage."

Constantine takes a swig straight out of the bottle, then slams it down again. "I didn't come here to drink champagne! I've just had a very important press conference talking about my future world title shot, I've just told them that I was going to meet you pair and discuss strategy for the thorn in all of our sides, and you two are just taking me out on errands and drinking all of my alchohol!"

"You had the last swig..."

"Enough!" The power trip leans forward, I expected this of you, Alhazred, but you" he indicates S.H.I.T, "you should know better!"

S.H.I.T cocks its head, its classic sign of interest/confusion.

"You and I have had wars, you are the 'War Machine', I am the 'Power Trip', we shouldn't be getting drunk and buying the groceries! We should be destroying something!"

Agreed.

Constantine relaxes a little. "Then why are we here?"

"So that we can get this out of our systems. *hic*"

"I was asking him." Said Constantine, coldly.

So that we can get this out of our systems, S.H.I.T repeated.

Constantine leans back and sighs, "Are you a parrot?"

"No, he's a a a robot."

Constantine picks up the bottle again, "listen, if you interrupt the adults again, I'll stick this bottle where the sun does not shine!"

Alhazred leans forward, keen to impart the knowledge of the very drunk. "S.H.I.T said you'd react like this," he waits until Constantine gives him his full attention, "he said you'd be all business. I said you'd react like a big fat baby, and here we are."

Constantine hurls the bottle, lightning fast, Alhazred ducks and the bottle smacks the driver of the limo in the back of the head, knocking him out. True to tradition, the vehicle speeds up enormously for some reason and flies out of control, throwing the three around in the back.

We must endeavour to stop this vehicle. Said the Machine, calmly. Before Alhazred lands on top of it.

"We must work together, then!" He slurred, as the frantic beeping of other traffic passed them by, or perhaps they passed it by.

"With you two idiots?" Snarled Constantine, still sat down, "I notice I was the only one to wear a seatbelt."

"Loser."

All business, as usual.

"What, are we going to discuss this nooooow?" He trails off as the car takes a particularly sharp corner.

S.H.I.T calculates that it will be precisely 26.9 seconds before we suffer a fatal accident of some kind.

"No time like the present, eh, business man."

Constantine looks shocked, "I am trying to put that behind me."

S.H.I.T nods sagely, Change is difficult, this one knows. It was the 'War Machine', all can submit or be destroyed. It lived for nothing more than its previous win or loss. Now I have realised that there are more important things, legacy, friendship, beating up Cerberus.

"I am listening."

"We hate those jack-offs more than you do," Alhazred slurs, S.H.I.T counts down the time and watches the landscape speed past while Alhazred, the better talker of the pair, goes into one of his rants, before too long though the Machine has to hurry things along, "and that Eve Taylor is a total ****!"

We must hurry along.

"So whaddya say, Consty, we've got to trust each other..."

Horrified, as he knows he has no other choice, Constantine nods in agreement. "What do we have to do?"

"You're the brains of the outfit."

Constantine thinks for a second, "lets hold on to something and form a human chain, that way we can reach the driver."

"Oh, I've seen this film, the Human centi..."

Lets just do this.

Linking up, Constantine holds on to the upholstery, while S.H.I.T holds on to Constantine, Alhazred holds on to S.H.I.T and together they can reach the driver of the limo, without being thrown around too much. Alhazred climbs into the front, opens the driver door, and kicks the driver out.

"Hey! He's worked for me for years."

Ignoring that, Alhazred brings the limousine to a gentle stop, and climbs back in with S.H.I.T and Constantine.

"Was we really driving less than 26. whatever seconds it was?"

Negative. We were driving 1 minute 30 seconds.

"But you calculated..."

Sometimes this ones calculations are wrong.

Constantine looks set to have an outburst, but Alhazred cuts him off. "Why so serious, Consty?"

We had unity in that moment, something we were lacking before, something Cerberus does have. Would you not say this exercise has been a success?

Eventually, Constantine nods. And the three broke out into cheesy laughter, well Alhazred laughed, Constantine relaxed and S.H.I.T snarled at the world, together they cracked open another bottle of champagne, and relaxed for the moment. Cerberus' time would come, and when it did, they could submit or be destroyed by the Hard Metal Power Tripenetration.

 

[red ass skull muhfukkah]

Alhazred is sleeping in his bed with his Showtime blanket wrapped over his head. A loud car horn is continuously beeping outside his window. After a minute or so Alhazred leaps out of bed. His hair a mess and face unshaven, mouth covered in drool.

Alhazred: Shit...

Alhazred looks around for his mechanical best friend forever but he's nowhere in sight.

Alhazred: He was supposed to wake me earlier! Why didn't he wake me?!

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

We flashback to several hours ago in the same bedroom in almost the exact same scene. S.H.I.T. is standing by Alhazred's bedside continuously poking him with a broom to wake up. Alhazred grabs the broom and throws it, it flies out the window and an old woman's scream is heard.

S.H.I.T.: It is time for this one to wake up.

Alhazred: Ohh yeah baby, wake me up. I'm ready for you.

Alhazred in a dream like state sticks an arm from under the covers and begins caressing S.H.I.T.'s body with his hand. S.H.I.T. slaps it but it goes back. He goes to slap it again but Alhazred grabs his arm and tries to drag him into bed with him. S.H.I.T. uses all of his robotic strength to wring his arm free, he pulls back and leaves the room.


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

Alhazred: That robot has a mind of his own lately.

The horn outside beeps louder and longer. Alhazred runs out of his room and down his stairs. He slips on his shoes and heads out the door. He waves at the limo and gets in the back seat. Constantine and S.H.I.T. are already there. Alhazred slides across the leather interior, he nods at Constantine.

Alhazred: Why didn't you wake me, man?

He moves to sit next to sit across from Constantine. He slips a little and bends over in Constantine's face before adjusting and sitting next to S.H.I.T..

Alhazred: What's up friends?

S.H.I.T.: You.

S.H.I.T. points to Alhazred's groin region. Alhazred is completely naked except for his shoes.

Alhazred: Shit, I forgot clothes.

S.H.I.T.: I can tell.

Alhazred: Be right back.

Several minutes later Alhazred is fully clothed and back in the limo. He and his fellow penetrator sit in awkward silence across from their Ascension partner. Alhazred grabs a bottle of champagne and helps himself.

Alhazred: If there's one thing that my father taught me it's that a good drink will always break awkward situations, right Johnny? Can I call you Johnny? Let me pour you a glass.

Alhazred pours another glass and reaches out to give it to Johnny as the limo hits a bump in the road, spilling some champagne on his pants.

Alhazred: Don't sweat it Johnny, nothing a little spit shine can't get out.

Alhazred spits on Constantine's pants and rubs his hands on his inner thigh to clean up the spill.

Alhazred: See, not so bad, right Johnny?

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

Alhazred jumps out of the limo as it stops.

Alhazred: Here we are.

Alhazred pulls S.H.I.T. aside as they wait in line for the bank.

Alhazred: Look, man, Machiko was supposed to plan this whole thing out for me but she hasn't been around the last few days. So since we blew up the van I figured we can get some errands done until I figure it out. Be cool for now. Heyyyyy Johnny!

Alhazred gets to the front of the line.

Alhazred: Morning, sir.

The woman at the desk gives him a dirty look.

Alhazred: I'd like to make a deposit.

He drops a large bag full of pennies on the counter.

Alhazred: Been saving these Lincolns for a few years now, sir.

Constantine: What is the point in all of this? We don't have time for this.

Alhazred: Lighten up, Johnny. We got all the time in the world, right sir?

He winks at the woman and begins counting the pennies.

An hour later he finishes counting.

Teller: Do you have your card?

Alhazred: Card?

Teller: Your Debit Card to make a deposit into your account?

Alhazred: What account?

Teller: Your account for this bank, mam.

Alhazred: Firstly sir, I'm a sir not a mam, that's rude. Secondly; I don't have a bank account because I don't want no filthy government hands touching my greens, ya dig?

Teller: Sir, you can't make a deposit if you don't have an account.

Alhazred: Alright, then. Let's go Johnny, complete waste of time dealing with these people. We'll try another bank. Then we can show you that good guy convention I phoned you about the other day, okay Johnny?

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

Several hours later they sit in the limo, filled with Alhazred's groceries and laundry. Alhazred himself is completely plastered from the champagne. Constantine is sitting angrily silent, balling his fists to hold in his rage.

Alhazred: So I says to the guy, I says....buh...your face! Ha! Good one right, Johnny?

Alhazred goes to grab another bottle of champagne, Cosntantine snatches it out of his hand.

Alhazred: Hey I wash... drinking that!

Constatnine: Your point?

Alhazredf: Nuthin...hic...s'good vintage.

Constantine drinks from the bottle and slams it down.

Constantine: I didn't come here to drink champagne! I've just had a very important press conference talking about my future world title shot, I've just told them that I was going to meet you pair and discuss strategy for the thorn in all of our sides, and you two are just taking me out on errands and drinking all of my alchohol!

Alhazred: You had the last swig...

Constantine: Enough! I expected this of you, Alhazred, but you should know better!

S.H.I.T. turns his head to the side in confusion, Alhazred turns his head to the other side for symmetry.

Constantine: You and I have had wars, you are the 'War Machine', I am the 'Power Trip', we shouldn't be getting drunk and buying the groceries! We should be destroying something!

S.H.I.T.: Agreed.

Constantine: Then why are we here?

Alhazred: So that we can get this out of our systems...buh

Constantine: I was asking him.

Alhazred puts his hands up, widens his eyes and shakes his head.

S.H.I.T.:So that we can get this out of our system

Constantine: Are you a parrot?

Alhazred laughs

Alhazred: No, he's a a a robot.

Constantine grabs a bottle and points it Alhazred.

Constantine: Listen if you interrupt the adults again, I'll stick this bottle where the sun does not shine!

Alhazred: S.H.I.T said you'd react like this,he said you'd be all business. I said you'd react like a big fat baby, and here we are.

Constantine hurls the bottle at Alhazred, Alhazred goes to grab one of his pennies he dropped off the floor as he does and the bottle misses him. It flies into the front seat and conks the driver in the head. His unconscious limp body presses on the gas the limo speeds up increasingly.

S.H.I.T.: We must endeavour to stop this vehicle.

Alhazred: We must work together, then!

Constantine:With you two idiots? I notice I was the only one to wear a seatbelt.

Alhazred: Loser.

S.H.I.T.: All business, as usual.

Constantine: What, are we going to discuss nooooow?

S.H.I.T.: S.H.I.T calculates that it will be precisely 26.9 seconds before we suffer a fatal accident of some kind.

Alhazred: No time like the present, eh, Johnny?

Constantine: I am trying to put that behind me.

S.H.I.T: Change is difficult, this one knows. It was the 'War Machine', all can submit or be destroyed. It lived for nothing more than its previous win or loss. Now I have realised that there are more important things, legacy, friendship, beating up Cerberus.

Constantine: I am listening.

Alhazred: We hate those jack-offs more than you do, probably like eight gajillion billion times more. Did you see what the did to us at Revolution? Did you see Johnny? Did you see what we did to them, Johnny? Did you see? Did you see the carnage and wave of destruction that occurred? They say our fight was on last due to random choosing, but we all know it was because everyone knew we were going to destroy each other without a care for anyone else in that arena. This started as revenge for attacks then turned into a chase for gold now it's war. Bloody, ruthless war and we will rip and tear and fight anyone and anything that dares to try and stop the agony we will unleash upon the hounds. They're at the top of the mountain but all three of us now the higher you are the easier it is to fall off. You get paranoid of everyone around you, thinking they want to push you off. It's only a matter of time until they implode, but we don't want that do we, Johnny? Explosions are much better than implosions right? Setting something on fire and kicking it in it's face as it burns to the ground is much better than letting it implode. Why let the towers fall by themselves when we can crash planes into them and knock them down ourselves? They think their better, they think they won. They have the titles but it will be the cost of their sanity, their bodies, their hearts and their souls. We will crush them on every battlefield in every type of warfare. They aren't a unit, they work for themselves. S.H.I.T. and I are best buddy buds. He's a killing machine and I'm a lunatic being held together by a thread. So, Johnny, on Ascension, will you pull my string? But for now lets stop this car and save ourselves so that those losers don't get an easy forfeit win. They're fickle bastards so you know they'd love that. Plus that Eve Taylor is a gag me with a spoon ****. Right, Johnny?

S.H.I.T.: We must hurry along.

Alhazred: So whaddya say, Johnny, we've got to trust each other...

Constantine: What do we have to do?

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

They get out of the limo at Alhazred's house, safe and unharmed.

Constantine: You know Alhazred, you're not as bad as I thought you were.

Alhazred pukes on him like Linda Blair as the scene fades to black.

 

[FlexAmerican Dynamite]

It was a glorious night for Cerberus. Following the WZCW Revolution PPV all three hounds of hell were champions and at the absolute top of their respective divisions. However, instead of celebrating the group’s capturing of the Eurasian and tag team titles at an extravagant dinner or black tie event the three heads of Cerberus were enjoying a modest candle light dinner together alone.

Ramparte: God what a great refined taste this wine has! Don’t you think Eve?

The Catalyst was more talkative than usual tonight due to repeated glasses of wine he continued to gulp down since the start of the meal. The monsieur of muscle Flex Mussel found this amusing as he did the same thing upon the team’s first successful outing in winning the belts but also found it depressing as it became obvious throughout the night just how sad his friend was on the inside. His faithful butler and confidant abandoning him and a traumatic experience with Hard Metal Penetration where the second head was forced to utter the words “I Quit” left one half the tag team champions in a state Flex had not quite seen before. It was almost like the more Ramparte drank the more he drifted into his own world. Eve Taylor on the other hand had been uncharacteristically quiet all night. When it comes to Cerberus she was usually the wallflower to Ramparte and Mussel’s shenanigans but the bodybuilder found her behavior to be quite odd tonight as it looked like she couldn’t even make eye contact with the body builder, almost like she was pondering deep thoughts and secrets of her own. The fitness trainer found all these observations very concerning throughout the night as it seemed that regardless of the triumphant history making victories all three competitors had there was still something that had the group at unease.

Ramparte: Good monsieur, why are you not drinking?! You love to drink! Is this because the wine has calories? You must not be so self-conscious my friend and let your mind be free like mine!

Flex: I don’t know pal, last time I started on a bottle of wine for a celebration I began to slur my words for practically two days.

Eve: He’s not wrong Flex, from the looks of it you could stand to be a little less tense.

Flex: I could say the same to you Eve, that’s one of the few sentences you’ve said all night.

Eve: What can I say; I’m just taking the moment in while I can.

Flex: You say that like our domination won’t be everlasting.

Eve: Well challengers are lining up to attempt to knock us down. Even after crushing their spirits enough for them to say “I Quit” Hard Metal Penetration has seemingly not wised up and wants to continue fighting.

Indeed, the former tag team champions were a glutton for punishment as they and the number one contender Constantine were scheduled to take on all three heads of Cerberus on Ascension. As much as Flex loathes Alhazred and S.H.I.T. and looked forward to another opportunity to show just how much better they were than them it was Constantine who the bodybuilder was looking forward to getting in the ring with the most. Flex had not forgotten what Eve had told them about Constantine slapping her and ever since Mussel has felt a sense of protectiveness towards Eve and an underlying hatred of Constantine already on top of Cerberus’ dislike of the Elite.

Flex: With Constantine aiding them in their foolish attempt at teamwork we might just be able to kill two birds with one stone.

Ramparte: God, what a weird sense of figurative language that is. Like, who has ever killed a bird with a stone? I mean were cavemen even agile enough to throw a stone at a flying bird? Was there even enough bird left to drag back to their caves if they were to kill them with said stone?

Ramparte’s strange alcohol induced line of questioning continued until he passed out across the dinner table prompting the other heads of Cerberus to call it a night.

Eve: I’ve never seen him like this before.

Flex: He’s been spending his nights intoxicated with wine for days now. I expected this had we failed in our conquest at Revolution but instead we didn’t. I’m not sure how to address it.

Eve: Did you ever think that maybe he feels insecure about being the only one to say I Quit?

Flex: You think he feels like the weak link of the team now?

Mussel let out a playful laugh at his previous comment but it actually got him thinking as it did concern him how quickly his partner uttered the words I Quit when his precious looks threatened to be disfigured by a toy chainsaw at the hands of S.H.I.T. Though it also made him very happy that for once he was the MVP of the team not only as the sole survivor of the match but for the second show in a row he overcame S.H.I.T. with sheer dominance and won the titles for his team in the main event of the PPV. A quiet sense of confidence had come over Flex ever since the event’s ending; it was nice to not feel like the weak link of the team anymore, even if it was at the expense of his friend.

Eve: Maybe we should get him upstairs.

Flex: Not a bad idea.

Eve and Flex eventually got a hallucinating and drunk Ramparte up the stairs to his bed room. Upon laying him across the bed however Eve lost her balance and fell right into the muscular arms of Flex as he caught her. He was wrapped around her for only an instant but to him it felt like an eternity. It was a strange feeling he had ever since Eve originally helped the pair win the tag titles, a fond and unspoken sense of closeness to the fashion model that he was too afraid to address. He originally recruited Eve as the third head of Cerberus for her in-ring talent and cunning skills but somewhere over the last couple of months he developed a bond with her almost as strong as his friendship with Ramparte. There had been a few times before where he considered asking Eve out on a date but feared it would jeopardize the success of the group and even potentially make Ramparte jealous. However those feelings weren’t nearly as strong as they had been recently. Especially as the monsieur of muscle remembered how proud and happy Eve was of him as they all stood tall at Revolution, her glowing smile stood as an everlasting sense of motivation for him to always become better and train harder. At some points it felt like her approval was motivating him more than capturing the tag titles themselves.

Eve: Hey Flex…

Flex: Yeah Eve?

Eve: I’m glad you stopped my fall, but you can let me go now.

Flex: Oh…right.

Mussel breaks out of his internal thoughts and allows Eve to stand on her own two feet.

Eve: You know you two have come a long way since Cerberus first started a year ago. I’m glad you two have allowed me to be a part of something as special as this.

Flex: I’m just glad you did us the honor of aligning with us. Honestly without you who knows where we’d be. With the seemingly collapse of the Elite we are unquestionably the strongest faction in WZCW. Constantine knows his empire crumbled before him just like all his other failed endeavors such as the Showtime Power trip, The Empire, and now The Elite. As talented as those main eventers were alone they were never on our level as a team and he knows it. And while it will be no easy task to once again deal with Hard Metal Penetration they have to know just how dangerous we truly are now. And for the third straight time S.H.I.T. will have to step in the ring with the man who has decimated and crushed is will: me. With you as the Eurasian champion and Ram and I as the most dominant team in recent memory Cerberus will reign supreme over this company for a very long time.

Eve: I couldn’t have said it better myself.

The model and bodybuilder share a smile than eventually turns into a long gaze. It almost becomes a thing of who will look away first. Eventually they start the edge closer toward each other, their stare not faltering in the slightest…

Ramparte: WINE! I need more wine….

The Catalyst’s unconscious outburst interrupts whatever was going on between the first and third head, much to Flex’s dismay.

Eve: I…I should um…help clean up my plate downstairs.

Flex: Yeah…totally.

Eve quickly makes her way out of the room and heads downstairs.

Flex: Damn it Ram….

Ramparte: Wine...

As the Catalyst subconsciously pleads for alcohol Flex gives him a nearby bottle of absinthe sitting on the nightstand. The Catalyst gulps it down like a baby drinking a bottle while Flex follows Eve downstairs.

 

[Spidey Revivey]

Falling...

Ever falling...


The descent of Ramparte came to a conclusion as he fell belly first into a stack of paper. Agony gripped him tightly as the sheets writhed underneath him, coming to life. Papercut after papercut formed around his exposed torso. He cried for release, but it never came.

Torture turned into temptation with every stroke of a page. The Catalyst pounded the reams of paper into submission and chuckled maddeningly. He surveyed his new environment. It was if he landed inside his own twisted idea of Wonderland. Stacks of books became trees. The sky was night by the beckoning of black ink and faded words. The stars themselves were only distant candlelight. And the ambiance was the sound of his own giggling fits. The moon bore Eve Taylor's sultry eyes and they looked longingly down on him.

He was home.

Through a thicket of bookmarks posing as tall grass came Flex Mussél. His face was full of panic.

Flex: Ram, you're hallucinating. You drank a large quantity of Absinthe and now you're all over the place.

Ramparte: I don't want to go. I belong here.

The blonde aristocrat picked up his ebony cane and glanced at his tag team partner. The cuts seemed to heal quickly in his Wonderland. Fighting for something to say, Flex blurted out how they were tag team champions now and needed to beat Hard Metal Penetration once more.

Ramparte: I don't care. I have my gold now, and it is safe in my little world. S.H.I.T. scared me at Revolution. ME! I'm not going back out there where I could lose this strap again. Here is where I part ways with you.

This is my final moment with Cerberus. We've shared an interesting adventure, you and I. But every story has a denoument. An ending. Goodbye, my french athletic friend.

And with that The Catalyst turned to leave. The Mountain of Muscles stood there biting back a grin. His over-dramatic friend was clutching to a bookshelf in reality. His clothes had been removed only minutes ago.

Flex: Partner, you're not going anywhere. You're still in your mansion, and you're holding onto The Chronicles of Narnia for dear life. Naked, I might add.

The giggling sound of the wind grew quiet. Ramparte had his cane in his hands in his drunken stupor.

Ramparte: No, I am in The Library of Libraries. The apex of my kingdom. This is where I am supposed to be. Among my books. With my gold. That's who I am, Mr. Mussél. The embodiment of revelation. A change made flesh. Let me be who I was meant to be.

Flex: This isn't real. It's all in your head. We need you to sober up and leave the little green fairy alone. I need you. Eve needs you.

Ramparte: And I need Eve. I wanna crawl in her wicked garden and taste of the apple...

Flex: ...apple?

Cerberus became awkwardly quiet. Ramparte's naked ass was swaying to and fro from the bookshelf.

Ramparte: You know it was my idea to bring her aboard. She is the very image of beauty, and with her we have risen above the ranks of the common stables. She aided us as we took the belts a second time. Never had she captivated me more than she did at Revolution.

I want her, Mussél. She's become my muse. My mirror reflection. Vanity Manifested.

His tag team partner turned away, hiding the blush that was rising from his face. Anger crept up on him like a shark scenting blood. After Amber Warren's departure he too started harboring feelings for The Fabulous One. But he couldn't tell Ramparte.

He needed Ramparte to snap out of it and get with the program.

Flex: You can't be with Eve Taylor if you're off in your own little world, can you? She is out here with me- sober as the mansion is big. You've let go of so many people over our tenure. Your butler Morley is gone. The Cerberus Corporation is dead. Your little tryst with angels and demons have vanished and so have every other tag team we've encountered. We are a rare breed, Catalyst. And we need to stick together. Snap the fuck out of it or you'll be left all alone on an island of your own doing.

The naked wrestler peered down at Flex. He slowly came back down.

Ramparte: Y-yes. You're quite right. Cerberus has never been stronger. If I leave, then everything will fall apart. This moment can very well define who we are. Constantine is one step away from achieving the World Championship. He has headed a successful group in WZCW. But so many have came and went in his inner circle while Cerberus remained firm. Hard Metal Penetration almost killed us. Their unorthodox and perverse manners have costed us gold once before. It's high time we shut them down completely before any rumors spread about Cerbs vs. HMP III at Gold Rush. We can't let this stand. If I have to face each of them head-on, then I will.

I will not look like a coward in front of Eve. She will be mine.

Flex: Sure, buddy. Let's go get your clothes back on before she sees your Heresy, eh?

Ramparte: Beauty's Bitch of a Bite? My Spin & Win?

Flex: On second thought, let's leave the penis jokes to Alhazred and S.H.I.T. We're above that sort of thing now.

The Catalyst nodded at the athlete. From elsewhere in the mansion Eve Taylor called out to them. The Monsieur of Muscle couldn't help himself in cracking another joke.

Flex: Better get a robe on. Don't want to Hail Cerberus in front of The Fabulous One.

Ramparte: My second head meeting the Third? Ha. God that really is in poor taste now that I think about it. My apologies.

The now sober aristocrat sauntered off into his room. Without his partner realizing it, Flex broke the smile he had worn around Ramparte. A fire burned brightly in place of his eyes.

Flex: She's more my type...


Scene fades to white.

 

[Viola Moonlight]

After Ramparte had been put to slumber, Eve Taylor excused herself from Flex's presence to "powder her face." Eve was looking as beautiful as ever and never really needed to attend a mirror once the make-up engulfed her friendly face but it always an old fail-safe to get some alone time with herself staring back through the looking glass. She went to Ramparte's ensuite, pulling out her emergency make-up kit and scattering lipstick and other assorted cosmetic items across the vanity in an attempt to not blow her cover.

Eve sat down on the edge of the lavish bath, looking directly at her reflection. She could see that the person staring back at her needed to talk.

"You can't bel-eve it, can you? It's been a harsh two years since you've fallen from grace in the fashion world and now, you're back on top. You've become a successful professional wrestler, risen the ranks among like-minded competitors to win championship gold across the board and it's been back-to-back wins against World champions and PPV events. The press are clamouring for an interview with you and the sponsorship/modelling contracts, even if they aren't as big as they were, are being thrown at you. You've got it made girl... we've got it made..."

She lets out a small grin but it quickly fades as Eve doesn't quite feel... as excited or appreciative of these accomplishments. These are the things that Eve has wanted to do since entering the company and now she's at this point... what now?

"... but why can't I shake the feeling that we're missing something, Eve? We've done everything we set out to achieve professionally. If we wanted to, we could pack our bags and go straight back to Milan for one final modelling run and make enough easy money for an early retirement to travel the globe outside of business trips. I'm happy to even stay in WZCW and continue my service here instead!"

Eve looks away, trying to search deeper.

"I'm personally content. Good physical health. Great mental health. We've got two of the greatest friends we could ever ask for, even if there are our only two friends left. It's more than we've had for the majority of our life. We've survived on no friends before... but still, what else is there I'm missing?"

She shakes her head, trying to figure things out.

"The World championship maybe but I'm the champion of my home continent, the new WZCW Eurasian champion. How can't I be pleased with winning such a prestigious title. We get to represent our people and do so with pride and glee."

Eve re-directs her attention back to the mirror where her image has been replaced by another... Aubrey Sloan. Her former best friend is right there on the other side, smiling back at Eve with her cute pale face and warming eyes. Eve tries to reach out but within seconds, she fades away and back comes the image of herself, copying her every move.

"Love?"

She takes a moment to let it sink in.

"Is... is that missing feeling the love of another human being?"

Eve tries to shake it off, waving her hand in the air as if to dismiss the question.

"I lead a busy lifestyle. I'm a powerful, independent woman who juggles many different roles. My time is so devoted to my work, I cannot fit romance into my busy schedule. Such a silly idea."

Eve laughs to herself, packing up her cosmetics and shoving it into her bag. She takes one last look in the mirror, making sure she and her own reflection look amazing. She walks out of the bathroom and goes to leave... but she is stuck in her spot, unable to move due to what she is seeing in front of her: Flex Mussel shirtless lifting weights. Eve has seen Flex many times with less clothing than he has currently but she cannot take her eyes off him or move at all... and she doesn't know why.

"Flex...? No, it can't. We're best friends and business partners. It wouldn't work... could it?"

Somehow, Eve manages to turn away but her gaze turns upon the sleeping beauty Ramparte. He too catches the interest of the Fabulous One, looking at him blissfully lying across the bed.

"It can't be Ramparte neither. He's a trouble soul with a heart of gold and a soothing voice filled with beautiful literature..."

She turns to Flex.

"But the body of Flex..."

Eve shakes her head as thoughts fly through her head with the voice in her head amplifying and multiplying, wizzing different messages at lightning speed. It grows louder and louder until Eve cannot take it anyway, covering her eyes and closing her eyes to try and drown out the noise but it doesn't work.

Quickly, Eve rushes back to the ensuite and shuts the door, running to the mirror. All of a sudden, the noises are gone and she is at peace once more. She lets out a sigh of relief and stares back into the safe spot, her comfort zone: the mirror. Eve always knew that when she needed the time to regroup, she'd always have her trust inanimate friend staring back at her.

"Let's not think of those thoughts again until we're ready, hey Eve?"

She nods to herself in the mirror.

"Agreed. We've got too much on our plate to worry about right now. All three Heads of Cerberus are holding championship gold and we must showcase to the world why we deserve to hold them. We've got tough and familiar opponents and we cannot let up so easily. Hard Metal Penetration are looking for revenge but they aren't our battle, Eve. It isn't ours to fight. They are for Ramparte & Flex to handle. We need to make sure we can merely survive against Alhazred & S.H.I.T. should the situation arise where us and them square off. It isn't our priority to wage war against them yet. We have one particular opponent to focus..."

Eve's face becomes pretty annoyed and hate-filled as she thinks about who she's about to say.

"That conniving, snivelling, self-centred, pathetic excuse for a human being John Constantine. This wretched fool might be the next in line for the World championship but we are already a champion and he's crossed us too many times for us to forgive him. He's cost us matches, insulted our intelligence and his association with a group who doesn't care about the well-being of others sickens us to our core. Cerberus doesn't replicate any of what the Elite stands for and even if we never get our chance to one day prove our superiority over them, I'll gladly take the second-best option to take on Constantine... even if it is in tag team action."

Eve takes a deep breath and stares back with an evil grin into the mirror, looking focused and ready.

"Time to get ready and prepare for this match. It's our first match as Eurasian champion and we need to make it look good. Let's go kick Constantine's ass."

She slams down her fist and exits the ensuite, going back out into Ramparte's mansion (whilst the camera stays in the ensuite). We can hear Eve's voice echoing in the distance.

"Flex! Ramparte! Celebration time is over! Let's go get to training!"

"You read my mind! We should probably wake up Ramparte first..."