AS15: Gordito vs. Chris Jones

[Phoenix]

The winner of the Contract Battle Royale takes on a man who fought to a double countout last week. Will the newcomer Gordito show Chris Jones how to find a proper finish to the match or will Chris Jones make an example of one of WZCW's newest members?

Deadline is Tuesday 25th May 23:59 EST

 

[ZeroVX]

*static fills the camera for a few minutes before cutting to Chris Jones, his face filling the entire frame. He adjusts the angle of the camera before looking into it*

Jones: So I'm here in None-Of-Your-Goddamn-Business, thinking about a lot of things. Thinking about my past, present, and future in WZCW. Mainly because the many viewers have been doing the same. "Why'd he do this?" "Where's he going to go from here?" "What does the future hold?" Well, let me end the speculation.

*Jones leans back a bit, continuing*

Jones: Let's start with the past. Last week on Meltdown, I faced off against one half of the new tag champs, Mr. Baller. And through some dumbass refereeing, the match was a draw. Now, I don't know about you folks, but I call that some grade-A bullshit. The match had barely even started, and I was wiping the mat with Baller. And right after I hit a big move, the match is thrown out? Call me paranoid, I know I have multiple times, but I get the feeling the ref wasn't completely unbiased there. In other words, Baller, I believe that you paid the ref to throw the match out when it looked like you were going to lose. I understand, Baller, that you can't beat me. I know that you know that. And I'd be able to accept you forfeiting, because quite frankly, that's the smart thing to do. But the fact that you made the ref throw the match away rather than give a decisive winner is just pathetic, and it makes you and the title you hold look like a joke.

*Jones then gives the screen the finger*

Jones: So, in conclusion, Baller, fuck you in the ear with a branding iron.

*Jones then sighs, stretching a bit*

Jones: Now, let's skip ahead to my future. You will more than likely remember that last week I also made my presence known in the Mayhem title match, which led to Killjoy's victory. You're probably wondering why I got involved at all.

*Jones leans forward, voice lowered to almost a whisper*

Jones: In my life's quest to make the world a better place, I have to hurt a lot of people. I have to make them pay for their disgusting and harmful paths. Because of this, I've started to enjoy hurting people. It feels like I'm truly accomplishing something when I hear screams of pain, or see blood dripping from broken bodies. It feels.....good. And what better place to do that than the Mayhem division, where rules become options and people become roadkill? No restrictions to what I can and will do to my opponents. The concept is so exciting to me that it feels like Christmas has come much earlier this year.

*Jones grins widely while leaning back*

Jones: Which brings me, in a sense, to my present. This week on Ascension, I face off against Gordito, one of the new additions to the WZCW roster. Now, you and I both know very little about him, but here's what I can tell you. Apparently, his whole....thing, I guess would be the term, is that he supports the "punk" lifestyle. Somehow, this makes you folks at home like him. This only proves just how little you truly know. You would gladly support anyone as long as they say a few words about how much they like you, regardless of what path they follow.

*Jones sighs, standing up*

Jones: Well, I think it's best that I educate you on what the "punk" lifestyle is really all about.

*Jones then moves aside, finally showing the rest of the room. The walls are painted a dull grey, with paint and wallpaper peeling off and missing in various places, showing that the room and possibly the house were abandoned long ago. In the center of the room is a young man with dirty blonde hair, tied down to a chair, barely conscious. Jones walks over to him, gently patting him on the cheek*

Jones: Wakey-wakey.

*The man groans, moving his head up and looking into the camera, showing his split lip and swollen black eye. Jones, grinning all the while, places his arm around the back of the chair*

Jones: Tell them your name.

Man: C....Ch.....Chuck...

*Jones crouches down beside Chuck, looking at him*

Jones: Tell me something, Chuck. Do you like getting hurt? Do you like what I did to you?

Chuck: N....no.....no, of course not....

Jones: Do you like hurting other people, Chuck?

Chuck: No....

Jones: *chuckles while turning Chuck's head towards him* Then why in the world do you follow the "punk" lifestyle, you silly little man?

Chuck: Punk....punk's all about freedom.....doing what you want.....when you want....

Jones: At the expense of other people's safety?

Chuck: What.....I don't know what you're talking about....

Jones: Don't feed me that bullshit. I've seen the concerts people like you go to. Jumping around while the band screams hateful nonsense. People cheering while you beat the crap out of each other. How many people have you put in the hospital with your drunken violence?

Chuck: That.....that's not true....

Jones: Every other band is a variation of "fuck the system, fuck this, fuck that, we're a bunch of whiny brats who feel like complaining", or people who fail to hide their hate-filled violence toward a certain demographic behind what they consider to be music.....Chuck, look at me when I talk to you.

*Chuck had turned his head away while Jones was ranting. Jones then grabbed a handful of Chuck's hair and forcefully turned his head back at Jones*

Jones: I SAID LOOK AT ME!

*Chuck's only response is a slight whimper, which causes Jones to smirk*

Jones: Bunch of supposed Neo-Nazi anarchists.....you probably don't even what the true meaning of "anarchy" is, do you? You just think it's another word for chaos, right?

*Jones then stands up, grinning widely*

Jones: No, see.....THIS is chaos.

*Jones then grabs a nearby electric guitar and promptly smacks Chuck in the face with the edge of it, causing Chuck and the chair to fall back, Chuck's scream of pain mingling with the twanging of the guitar strings and Jones' wild laughing*

Jones: Aw, what's the matter, Chuckie? I thought you were all for letting people do what they want! Well, this is what I want to do! Not as wonderful as you thought it was, IS IT?!

*Jones then moves back towards the camera, wide manic grin spread across his face*

Jones: See, Gordito, this is what lies in store for you and people like you! Neo-Nazi, violent, hateful bastards, who only think about conflict and never consequence! EVERYTHING has consequences, Gordito! That's not cruelty, but a fact of life. And in itself, the most basic form.....of justice.

*Jones then moves back to Chuck, who's still groaning in pain. Jones raises the guitar to strike again just as the camera feed cuts out*

 

[DirtyJosé]

[The camera fades in to a backyard party in what appears to be suburbia. It's not clear where we are, but it is clear that someone has only just moved in, as their is still a U-Haul rental truck in the driveway and boxes strewn about along the side of the house. There are about three dozen partiers in the modestly large backyard, gathered by either the barbeque spit, the kegs, or a raging bonfire pit. They range from moderately nerdy looking guys in plain t-shirts and glasses to intimidating tattooed and pierced folk with a variety of hair colors. Everyone is jovial and festive, if not a little inebriated. Distinctly visible in the crowd beside the bonfire is Gordito, beer in hand. He is wearing a black t-shirt with the WZCW logo and green camouflage pants that have torn off around the knees.

A black limo pulls up along the side of the house, which is on a corner. The generic looking driver emerges from the front seat and quickly circles the vehicle to open the back door on the passenger side. As he stands in a respectful manner, a blonde man in a powder blue wool blazer and matching slacks stands up straight and surveys the action in the yard. He hesitates as his jaw freezes slightly in dismay. The driver clears his throat.]

Driver: Mr. Klamor...

Klamor: I'm...not doing this.

Driver: This is the place, sir.

[Klamor snaps out of his trance.]

Klamor: What gave it away, moron; the smell or the noise?

Driver: Well, the address they gave me was...

Klamor: I KNOW it's the place, you idiot. I can see the buffoon standing over there by the fire.

[At this point, Gordito has noticed that he has new visitors and has begun approaching them.]

Gordito: Wow, Johnny Klamor! I know I sent Becky Serra an invite to the party, but hey the more the merrier, right?

Klamor: I'm not here for your party, kid. I'm here because I felt you had enough of Rebecca's namby pamby kid gloves. You're in the big leagues now, it's time to treat you like it.

[Gordito belches.]

Gordito: Well...alright then. Come on inside..

[Gordito holds open the chain link fence door as he starts to smile.]

Gordito: ...and let's you and I chat some.

Klamor: ...No thanks, I'm allergic to scum.

[Gordito lets out a quick but hearty laugh.]

Gordito: Oh come on, Johnny K. Surely a respectable journalist such as yourself has been invited to plenty of parties.

Klamor: Not any that looked like they required a sacrifice.

Gordito: Are we doing this or what, Johnny?

[Klamor face palms momentarily and then begins to walk towards the gate.]

Klamor: Let's get this over with.

[The two start walking towards the kegs, keeping towards the outskirts of the crowd.]

Gordito: I love the suit, Johnny K.

Klamor: Thank you, at least you recognize style when you see it. And don't call me that.

Gordito: Totally, you fit in here for sure.

[Klamor halts and turns towards Gordito]

Klamor: I am nothing like...

[Klamor makes a sweeping gesture with his right arm]

Klamor: ...your people.

[Gordito sips from his beer]

Gordito: Sure you are. You do things your own way, with your own style. You've never backed down from doing things the way you think they should be done. That's what we...

[Gordito turns slightly towards the left and also makes a sweeping gesture with his left arm]

Gordito: ...are all about as well. Sure you're a dick, but I won't hold that against you. Call me a fan, Johnny.

[Klamor looks genuinely offended now.]

Klamor: Listen, punk...

[Klamor sticks his finger into Gordito's chest]

Klamor: ...I don't need acceptance from you and your motley crew of mutant runaways. I'm here to find out what kind of loss WZCW is taking in giving you a contract. You should feel lucky to be wearing that shirt.

[Both turn and start heading towards the kegs again.]

Klamor: So you sneaked out a win in the battle royal on the last Meltdown. You also lost one at Redemption, so in my book you are still on square one.

[Gordito takes another sip from his beer.]

Gordito: You are right, Johnny K. It was a rough fight, and though I came out on top, most of us in the match each got contracts because it was so intense. So while I'm glad I reached my goal, I know I have a lot more work to do. And after this celebration-slash-moving in party, I'll get started on it. I've still got a lot to prove to WZCW management and to WZCW fans.

[Klamor eyes Gordito's drink]

Klamor: And how are you going to do that? By throwing up on your opponents? If I remember correctly, the only reason you were able to avoid losing that match was because Steven Holmes was directing you the whole way. He deserved to win that match.

[They have reached the kegs, and Gordito stops to refill his cup, and then turns back towards Klamor.]

Gordito: Holmes is a vicious man, as well as capable and dangerous. I have no doubt that he and I will lock horns again someday. But we both gave our all in that match. Outlasting Toyota took just as much out of me as it did him. And while I respect that, while I respect that we went to that limit together, I was the one that delivered the Meteor of War and got the pin fall. I was the one that was able to muster up that last bit of energy first. I respect my opponents, and I'm truly thankful to be with WZCW Johnny K....

[Gordito leans in closer to Klamor, who shrinks back just the slightest bit with a look of uncertainty in his eyes.]

Gordito: ...But don't think for a second that I don't feel that I deserve to be here, or that I don't deserve anything I achieve. Just like you, I do things my own way, with my own style, and just like each of your own achievements in journalism, each of my achievements in the ring are the culmination of dedication, commitment, and passion.

[Gordito leans back to normal and takes a sip from his beer.]

Gordito: Holmes will win when it is his time, which shouldn't be too long.

[Klamor adjusts his collar and clears his throat.]

Klamor: Well, regardless, you're getting what you deserve this week. One on one with Chris Jones, the Saviour himself; a guy out to rid the world of scum like you.

[Gordito belches again.]

Gordito: You know Johnny K...

[Klamor grimaces.]

Gordito: ...I try to like a little bit about everyone. In each of us, there's at least one great thing, one attribute that makes us great. And with Chris Jones, it's his fearless approach to talking out of his ass. He's totally dedicated and committed to coming out each night and droning on about how we're screwed unless we follow his path, how he has it so tough going it alone. I admire that kind of moxie in a guy, but it's too bad that's not what he is.

Klamor: What do you mean? He's shown us before that he's not afraid to get violent to do what he feels is right. Isn't that what you have blithering about all this time?

Gordito: Yes and no, Johnny. Like I said, I'd normally have no problem with a guy like Jones, but in reality, he's just a bully. He's not interested in earning anything, he wants to be given it on bended knee. He wants people like you and I to live by a code that he has determined is the right way, and level judgement upon any that don't feel the same. That's nothing like what I do. I have no problem with Jones being an asshole, that's his choice. We're both men who feel men are defined by their choices. But I don't believe in forcing your views on others.

Klamor: No, just the sight of your mutant style.

[Gordito nods as he sips his beer again.]

Klamor: But really, so you don't like the guy very much. What does that have to do with the match? The guy has had more WZCW experience than you have, and he's not exactly in the greatest of moods these days. We've never seen you in singles action before, punk. What makes you think you are going to have any chance against him?

Gordito: Yo, baby, yo, he's had a few more matches than I. The only one of note was a PPV match that was a disaster for him because he couldn't sync with his teammate and he got rolled over for it. And that brings me back to something I mentioned earlier. Jones has this sense of entitlement regarding the fans and other wrestlers.

[Gordito finishes his beer quickly and throws the cup to his side. He then brings his right hand up, pointer finger extended towards Klamor's face.]

Gordito: When he comes out to the ring on Ascension, he'll be coming out expecting respect, while when I come out, I'll be ready to push myself to any limit to earn that respect.

Klamor: You've got a long way to go before I'll ever respect you, if ever, punk. But I think I've got all I need from you for now.

Gordito: Great. Want a beer?

[Gordito offers him a red plastic cup for the keg.]

Klamor: I don't want your cheap beer. I've got better ways to waste my time than to spend another second with you.

[Both start walking back towards the gate.]

Gordito: I've had a great time with you, too, Johnny K. Feel free to stop by anytime.

Klamor: Tell you what, if I ever get the urge to see you again, I'll just go find some vagrants and buy them some malt liquor.

[Gordito laughs heartily as Klamor passes through the gate and back into the limousine. The camera fades to black as Gordito heads back to the kegs, where a few of the punk kids have lined up for keg stands]