AS54: Justin Cooper & Logan Burnside vs. Mick Overlast & Triple X

[Viola Moonlight]

An interesting tag team match has been made for Ascension as the mentor/mentee pairing of Justin Cooper & Logan Burnside are set to take on Triple and the man who took the Elite X championship off him, Mick Overlast. Cooper has been on a winning streak as of late, even taking down the current Elite X champion. Overlast will be getting his chance at redeeming himself but will have to do so with his rival Triple X in his corner.

Deadline 19th of September, 11:59pm Central Time. No extensions allowed​

 

[Da Prophet]

Just like last week we find ourselves backstage at anther wrestling event. This time we are at Meltdown. It’s a busy time of day as the show is just beginning and the opening segment has just kicked off. So what’s so special about this backstage setting? What makes this so different to the hundreds of others? In a scene like no other as it appears that Justin Cooper, Iris and Logan Burnside have set up a production line and they are making fresh pancakes! It’s a wonderful sight to see with Justin holding a clipboard and looking over the production of the pancakes. Iris has been stuck cooking all the tasty treats and Logan is in charge of the syrup. This should be amazing.

Iris: Did I mention I hate this?

Justin: Excuse me?

Iris: This is pointless, just like the classroom thing last week. Nobody thinks this is any good and everyone is looking at us like we’re idiots. This is fucking embarrassing.

Justin: I don’t hear anybody else complaining.

Iris: Logan, what do you think? Do you want to be stuck here making pancakes for another six hours?

Logan: I like syrup.

It’s not the answer Iris wanted and the frustration causes him to throw his little cook’s hat to the ground.

Iris: I’m sick of this!

Logan: Want some syrup?

Iris: No I don’t want some syrup you over grown monkey! I want some intelligent thinking from you two! I want something other than acting like fools all the time. We’re always going stupid stuff like this and I’m over it! I didn’t join the High Society to be cooking bloody pancakes for these disgusting people. I don’t want to do this anymore.

Justin: Pick up your hat and stop bitching.

Iris: I’m not bitching!

Justin: Stop whinging.

Iris: I’m not whinging either!

Justin: You are whinging, you’re a whinger.

Iris: I’m not a whinger.

Justin: You’re a whinger.

Iris: You’re a whinger.

While these two are having their little argument a crew worker approaches the production area to sample some of the delicious pancakes on offer today. I wonder if he’ll ask for some syrup.

Crew Worker: Yummy, I love pancakes.

Logan: What about syrup?

Crew Worker: Not really a fan of syrup. I much prefer butter on mine.

Logan: No syrup?

Crew Worker: None for me thanks. I’ll just take some of those pancakes.

Logan: No.

Crew Worker: No?

Logan: No.

Crew Worker: No what?

Logan: No pancakes.

Crew Worker: But you offered me syrup for my pancakes so how can there be no pancakes if you have syrup to offer me?

Logan: I have syrup but no pancakes.

Crew Worker: How can you have syrup but not have pancakes?

Logan: Do I look like a chef to you?

Crew Worker: Obviously not but I…

Justin interrupts the conversation after screaming at Iris for the last couple of minutes.

Justin: What do you want?

Crew Worker: I wanted to sample some pancakes but apparently you have none.

Justin: That can’t be right. Just give me a minute and I’ll sort this out. Logan, come with me.

With his right hand Justin grabs Logan by the arm and pulls him a few metres away from the crew worker. From here Justin wraps his arm around Logan’s neck and whispers into his left ear.

Justin: Why do we have no pancakes left?

Logan: We’ve been here for six hours. That’s a lot of pancake mix that’s been used Justin. We have nothing left to serve.

Justin: But I need to make more pancakes!

Logan: Why is it so important?

Justin: Because if I supply pancakes than people will be happy. If people are happy then they’ll like me because I gave them the pancakes that made them happy. Once everyone is eating pancakes that I made then I’ll have all the support I need to finally claim the number one contendership to the Elite X Championship.

Logan: So you’re doing this to gain favour with the guys in the company?

Justin: Exactly. If everyone likes me then nobody will be against me getting a title match against Mick Overlast. It’s the greatest move I’ve ever attempted Logan. The genius behind this is magical and I’m surprised nobody has ever thought of this before. It’s simply amazing!

Logan: Iris didn’t think so.

Justin: Haters be my motivators.

Logan: More street talk?

Justin: Little bit.

At this point Justin has backed off a little and is now stand a few steps back from Logan and not touching him at all. The crew member is still waiting for his pancakes and Iris has yet to return from wherever he has run off to after the argument with Justin.

Justin: While this plan isn’t up to the level of tunnelling into North Korea, this is still pretty rocking. I’ve made myself a friend of most of these guys backstage and I’m sure that they’ll be begging management to name me the number one contender. If everything goes to plan I should be getting a call any day now.

Logan: What if you don’t?

Justin: If I don’t? Well I guess we’d have to win our match this week. Hey, that’s a cool idea. Winning a match to gain ranking here in the company! Shit, someone call Armando Paradyse and inform him about this wonderful idea. Honestly if this doesn’t work out it can’t hurt me that much. I’ve already pinned the reigning champion just two weeks after he won the damn title. I’ve beaten Matt Tastic who was on the edge of getting a World Championship match just a week before that. I’ve been making more waves then Kelly Slater lately. It’s been fun being on top; I should try it more often.

Logan: I love being on top.

Justin: Sure buddy. Anyway this match we’ve got against Mick Overlast and the drug user shouldn’t be too hard to deal with. You can take Overlast since I already beat him last week and I’ll take smoke and poke.

Justin laughs at his smoke and poke joke toward Triple X.

Justin: In fact we might even switch it around as the match goes on. I’d love to see the look on smoke and poke when you’re beating him within an inch of his life. He’d probably enough it. Who knows it might be like getting high for him.

Logan: I hate drug addicts.

Justin: Drug addicts are like dogs with broken legs. Once they can’t make you feel better about yourself just stick a needle in them and put them down. If this company was smart they’d do the same to Triple X and his career. It’s a shame that such a boy gets air time with us Logan. What’s wrong with putting out a respectable image? It’s not right that he gets time in the ring and you’re stuck on Aftershock battling rookies.

Logan: That’s another thing I hate. I can’t stand being on Aftershock. It’s like a battle of poor people.

Justin: I left that show as soon as I could. It was once a cool little show but now it’s all about Ace Stevens versus random challenger number five. It’s gone so far downhill since I left. It’s a shame, such a terrible shame.

The crew worker has been waiting for a while and has now taken a seat while waiting for pancakes. He’s even found a copy of the latest WZCW magazine (in stores now) to read while waiting. As Logan and Justin continue to talk about the poor efforts being made on Aftershock, Iris returns!

Iris: And another thing I don’t appreciate being called a whinger. I’m just as important to this team as Logan is and I want some respect.

Justin: That guy is still waiting for his pancakes.

Iris: I DON’T CARE ABOUT THE STUPID PANCAKES!

Justin: No need to shout about it Iris. If you didn’t want to make pancakes all you had to do was say so.

Iris: I’ve been doing this shit for six hours and you just decide to tell me this now?

Justin: This is a volunteer army Iris. This isn’t like the viewing session of the Austin Reynolds DVD where you can’t leave on your own free will. You’ve been able to leave at any point during this my friend.

Iris: I get it but please next time just don’t ask me to make pancakes with you. I’ll help make game plans for the match and all that but don’t ask me to make pancakes ever again.

Justin: Come on, we’ve got a game plan to set up.

With that said the boys all head off down the hallway leaving all of their dishes unwashed and a sink full of extra mix. It’s been a long day for the boys as they have been cooking for six long hours. With a match just twenty four hours away with the Elite X Champion and the former champion the boys need to be focused. As the scene is coming to an end we see the crew worker stand up scratching his head and looking around the area.

Crew Worker: What happened to the pancakes?

Fade to black.

 

[BK Styles]

Triple X walks through the curtain, greeted by a number of WZCW workers and a couple of superstars; their faces all blur into one as he walks past. He grabs a towel sitting on a near-by chair and places it on his shoulders; an exhausted, yet broad smile on his face. He reaches the dressing room and pushes the door open, greeted by a familiar face.

Frank! I didn’t know you were coming up this week! Good to see you.

Frank sits there, an almost disappointed look on his face. X continues to stare at him as he sits down, confused by the unwelcoming greeting.

Is…there something wrong?

How’s your back?

X reaches for his spine instinctively. To Frank’s credit, it was pretty sore. The attempted Skyfall on Bowen hurt a lot more than X cared to admit, and it was the third match in a row he’d crashed, and nearly burned, attempting the move.

What’s this about?

Don’t give me that.

No, come on, let’s hear it. What have you got to say?

Well, it has something to do with you nearly crippling yourself for the third week in a row.

Are you serious?

Deadly. You keep taking unnecessary risks Xander. Twice you’ve lost as a result, and this week you got very lucky.

Oh yeah, not like I earned the win or anything…

Cut the crap Xander. You’re pandering to the crowd far too much, and you’re not only risking results, but your health too. Your mom and I are…worried.

About what, exactly? Frank, I’m not some newbie who’s never wrestled a match in his life. I’m a former champion, not just here but in Mexico and Japan too. I know all the tricks of the trade, and that includes how to take a bad landing.

This isn’t just about the landing. It’s about what leads up to it. You end up on top in a match and set yourself up for a huge fall, instead of capitalizing sensibly. And for what? In the hope that it makes some twelve year old cheer you more than David Cougar? You’ve got a problem X. You’re a slave to these fans. And your mom and I can only stand back and watch you risk your life for so long.

With that, Frank gets up and exits the room, leaving X to replay the scene over and over in his-


-You seem distracted.

X snaps out his trance-like daydream. They're in a park on a bright, sunny day, a few days away from Ascension. He looks over to Faith, who is staring back at him with a puzzled look on her face.

Sorry. Guess I am a little.

Wanna talk about it?

It’s nothing new.

Oh, so it’s the fight with Frank?

How did you...

Good guess. Plus nothing gets you worked up like this.

I just… X leans back, looking into the clear, blue sky …he was the guy who told me not to worry about it. To put it down to bad luck. And when I start winning, all of a sudden anything related to the top rope is bad.

Faith moves closer. I get that you respect Frank. I do. But he doesn’t understand wrestling. He doesn’t get how things work. You know how much damage you have or haven’t done to yourself. You know if you need to curb the enthusiastic high-flying moves, and no-one else. Frank’s wrong on this, and you know it.

X gets up and walks a few steps forward. Then why can’t he trust me? Why can’t he accept that I know what I’m doing?

Xander, Frank knows you better than most. He knows your past. And how you think. In his eyes, he’s always gonna worry about you. In case you go back down that path. He can’t help it. It’s just something that’ll always be there.

It’s in the past. It shouldn’t be an issue.

You kiddin’ me? It’s gonna be there no matter what. But if you weren’t so close to that line you wouldn’t be who you are. It makes you unique, and it makes you stronger than anyone. I mean, you beat Bowen on Meltdown; one of the most violent guys around.

Yeah, well he gave me a pretty good pounding in the process.

Either way, you beat him. And you just need to keep on doing that.

X laughs. Easier said than done.

Meaning?

X sits back down. I’ve got a tag match this week with Justin Cooper and his ’mentee’. Logan whats-his-name. Burnside. Which in and of itself isn’t an issue. I’ve faced Cooper. Kicked his ass. And his rookie is impressive, but new around these parts. It won’t be easy, but those two aren’t the problem.

What is? Wait, am I missing something? Why are you facing Cooper and Burnside? You’ve got no business with them?

My partner does.

A short pause as Faith thinks about it. Ohhhh you’ve gotta be kidding me.

Wish I was.

So, you and Overlast. As a team? Good luck with that. The guy doesn’t need a partner with the ego he’s packing.

Tell me about it. I mean, how do I team with a guy I want to kick the face off of? How do I resist the temptation to just drop off the apron and walk away? His issues with Cooper don’t matter to me at all.

Well, Cooper’s being touted as the next number one contender for Mick’s title. Maybe winning this match could throw your name back up there.

Assuming I don’t beat up Overlast and cost us the match.

Assuming that, yes.

I mean, meeting up with him before the match is gonna be interesting enough, let alone meeting for the ACTUAL ma-

-wait, you’re meeting up with him?

…yeah?

…why?

To talk strategy. And lay down some ground rules. Mick isn’t stupid; he knows he can’t afford to lose this match. Whether he wants to or not, he and I need to keep our personal issues in check here.

Are you sure this is a good idea? I mean, with everything he’s said about you in the past few weeks, can you trust a word that comes out of his mouth.

X smiles. Not really. But that’s assuming I’m going to.


Later that day…

The heavy wooden door creaked as X pushed it open, to reveal an old, grimy tavern bathed in the mist of stale tobacco. There were about half a dozen people in there (barman not included) and all were too concerned with the empty glass in front of them to bother staring at the green-haired punk who’d just walked in the door. All except one man, who met X’s eyes the second he walked in; a look of arrogance and disgust upon his face.

Mick Overlast.

About time you got here. Overlast takes a gulp from the bottle in front of him. Was wondering if you’d actually show.

Likewise.

X sat down on the wooden barstool. He placed his hands on the table, them immediately removed them from the sticky surface.

Overlast laughs. I might be an asshole, but I keep my word. That’s how I ended up with this, remember?

Mick lifts his shirt up, to reveal the glistening gold of the Elite X title around his waist.

Cute.

So how’s life treating you, X? How does it feel to go from wrestling a championship-worthy opponent to facing a guy who swings a chair around for a living?

X smirks. Better than being pinned by Cooper, I’d wager.

The smile drops off of Overlasts face for a second, before returning with a slight chuckle.

Well, so much for pleasantries. To be honest, I’m surprised you asked to meet. I’d imagine I’m not high up on your Christmas card list.

I’m more surprised you actually showed.

I can be accused of a lot of things, but being stupid isn’t one of them. Cooper isn’t in my league, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t a threat. And Burnside is…well…unpredictable. I may be champion, but two guys versus one won’t end well. He takes another sip as X stares a hole through him. I get it. It makes sense for us to have to work together. Whether we like it or not.

Overlast raises his hand in the air. BARTENDER! A bottle of your finest beer for my friend here- Overlast quickly, and very dramatically, puts his hand to his face in faux shock. I’m so sorry. What was I thinking? Here, have a cigarette to ease the tension…OH, DAMMIT, WHAT WAS I THINKING?!

X smiles, looking down at the table. I was wondering why you chose a bar for our little chat. You’re a real piece of work, Mickey-boy.

Overlasts expression turns more serious. A habitual liar like you can talk. A man who preaches to the sheep of WZCW, spreading false tales of his resilience; his spurning of drugs and alcohol. When the truth, Xander, is that you haven’t changed. You didn’t bat an eyelid when I told you to meet me here. In a dingy bar that probably resembles most of your childhood. How could a recovering alcoholic possibly be okay with meeting in a place like this? Huh?

X continues looking down for a moment, before looking up and leaning forward, forgetting about the sticky surface of the table.

Let me get one thing absolutely clear here, Mick. I get that you don’t like me. Hell, I don’t like you. And, for the record, it makes me sick that you could beat me for the Elite X Championship. But don’t ever, and I mean EVER, act like you know who I am, and what goes on in my mind. But just to make it perfectly clear; I had issues, I dealt with them, and I’m a different person. Better. But make no mistake here you son of a bitch; if you ever talk about her again, I’ll rip your spine out and use it as a belt. Assuming you actually have one. Am I clear?

You really think-

Am. I. Clear?

Overlast looks sheepishly at X, before giving a nervous smirk and shrugging his shoulders.

Whatever man. That’s not the issue here anyway. No, the issue is Cooper. Cooper and his weird, hairy, freak-of-a-mentee Logan Burnside. Both are dangerous, especially with Cooper now gunning for my title. Mick looks at X, who now has his arms folded, an intense look with just a hint of a smile, who is staring right back at him. Okay, granted, you’re probably gunning for my title too, but-

-Mick, save it. I don’t like the fact that we’re teaming up together any more than you do. But we are. And, as it happens, we both have a dislike for Justin Cooper. Difference is that I’ve beaten him before. Remind me how you did again?

You’re hilarious.

Fact is Mick, we don’t need to be on the same page here. We just need to be on our best, and know that this isn’t time for anything stupid. The second that bell rings, my only concern is beating Cooper and Burnside. You better have the same thought process, else Ascension’s not gonna end pretty for you, and Cooper will be the last thing on your mind. After the match though, all bets are off.

X stands up from the table and begins to walk away.

You’re forgetting something.

X stops, and turns back to face Overlast, who has stood up, and is slowly approaching him.

You’re not the champion here X. You can’t sit there and tell me what to do, and expect me to sit here and take your direction like a good little boy. He undoes the belt, and rests it on his shoulder. This means I’m better than you, and you’d better not forget it. You wanna have a truce till the match is over? Fine. Seems like the smart thing to do. But the second that bell is rung, both you and Cooper, and his man-beast of a mentee will be flat on your backs while I stand tall. Here’s your problem X; you pander to the people far too much. You worry about what they think, and how your dead girlfriend would think, and you lose focus because of that. You’re nothing more than their slave. I, on the other hand, get the job done. One way or another. So don’t get in my way.

Overlast goes to leave, but is stopped by X’s hand on his shoulder.

And all of that’s great. But you forget something. My ‘pandering’ doesn’t make me a slave. It makes me dangerous. It makes me unpredictable. And trust me when I tell you, Mick, you’ll see just how unpredictable I am on Ascension.

Overlast swings his arm, knocking X’s hand off of his shoulder. The two stand in the bar, no more than an inch or so apart.

Don’t get to comfy, Mick. That shiny belt isn’t going to be your shiny belt for much longer. And that’s not saying that I’m going to win it or anything; I’m not even in a match for it. Cooper is closer to that than me. But if he, or anyone else, does get a shot before me, then I hope you win. X closes the gap to mere centimetres. Because I want to be the guy who rips that belt from your unconscious grasp.

X turns, and swiftly walks through the large, heavy door.

See you later, Mickey-boy!

 

[Mick Overlast]

Triple X: And all of that's great. But you forget something. My 'pandering' doesn't make me a slave. It makes me dangerous. It makes me unpredictable. And trust me when I tell you, Mick, you'll see just how unpredictable I am on Ascension.

Oh, really? Unpredictable, huh? So that's why I managed to avoid of your high-flying hijinks and take this title from you?

Overlast pushes X's hand off of his shoulder, shooting him a glare as the adrenaline begins to course through his veins. The two begin an intense staring contest, the silence broken by Triple X's next words.

Triple X: Don't get too comfy, Mick. That shiny belt isn't going to be your shiny belt for much longer. And that's not saying that I'm going to win it or anything; I'm not even in a match for it. Cooper is closer to that than me. But if he, or anyone else, does get a shot before me, then I hope you win.

This belt isn't going anywhere anytime soon, so you don't have to worry about that.

Overlast's tag-team partner for Ascension closes the already narrow gap between them.

Triple X: Because I want to be the guy who rips that belt from your unconscious grasp.

You want to try again? I own you, Xander. You don't scare me in the least.

Triple X: See you later, Mickey-boy!

Overlast: Cheers to you, X!

Overlast reaches over and raises his bottle as a mock toast before taking his seat back on the bar stool. He finishes off the drink and looks over at a few heavy-set men who are staring back at him, most likely having watched the short confrontation.

Overlast: The hell are you looking at?

The men roll their eyes and turn away. Overlast orders another drink and blankly looks up at the small TV on the wall behind the bar. His mind begins to wander.

I have to remember how I got here.

The last time I entered into an alliance, I was desperate to make a name for myself. I did make that name for myself, but it wasn't a very good one. I was let down by Blade and Scott Hammond, and after Hammond left, I took the opportunity to stab a game Blade in the back. After that, I rode a wave of momentum to capture the Elite X Title. I acted on my own and worked for myself, and look where I got.

Overlast takes a swig from the bottle and looks down at the sticky surface, shaking his head with a small smirk on his face.

Wait, I just lost to Cooper.

I hate to admit it, but it's true. For some reason that eludes me, he has my number. Now he has help in the form of a man-beast. A win at Ascension most likely makes him the No.1 contender to my gold, and I don't want that to happen. So as much as I hate Triple X, I have to do what's best for business. If it comes down to it, I want to defend against X. I've beaten him before, and I'd do it again if he earned the opportunity.

I still control my destiny in this little game. I have to help Xander win. 'Keep your friends close, but keep your enemies closer.' Sounds about right.

Overlast takes an extended drink from his bottle before setting it down on the table. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and reaches into his pants pocket for his wallet. He takes a $20 bill and throws it on the bar before getting up. The bartender goes to take it when Mick speaks up.

Overlast: Keep the change.

Because I know damn well I don't want it.

 

[Mr. Artistic guy]

Iris: This is rediculous.

Cooper: I'm a mentor. I don't much want to be here either but hows it going to look if I turn up on Ascension alone.

Iris: Probably not great.

Cooper: You're damn right. This is one meteoric waste of my time. I mean this, this whole mentorship deal. I've got prior engagements. I'm on a real roll right now, I've been beating anybody put in my way and might even get a chance to re-gain my Elite X championship, especially if my little plan had anything to do with it.

Iris: I'm still not sold on the whole pancake idea. It might take more than a stunt like that to get the title match you've been after.

Cooper: No way. You'll see. Anyway, we're here now.

The two men pull up to the front of a small-town police department. The muted rainbow spread across the sky and sweeping darkness would seem to indicate that it's fairlylate, possibly mid-evening time. Both men exit the car with an apparent simultaneous disdain for their situation, sighs and bleak faces rampant. They exchange a brief appreciative glance before making their way inside the gaunt building, being narrowly missed by the first trickle of light rain, a scene that seemed almost intentional, as if the heavens had been conspiring to maximise the misery of a select few people and they were just an unlucky couple caught in the crosshairs.

The building was not one of those buildings that was cleverly disguised to be uninviting to outsiders, and yet was bathed in warmth and a pleasantly homely atmosphere inside. It was just plain depressing. The odd police detective that passed hurriedly behind the front desk emitted a sense of urgency for the sake of necessity as oppose to a genuine drive to uncover the next step in their respective investigations. The desk officer himself was peering down at the desk through pair of circular glasses, and held a lightly-chewed pencil in his left hand, no doubt in the deepest intellectual turmoil at what 11 down could possibly be. _y_y_y. He was confident a word with just such a combination of letters didn't exist and yet was more confident that the crossword itself was wrong, and not himself.

Cooper: Ahem, we got a call from one of your, umm, inmates about a half hour ago. We're here to pick him up for bale?

They waited. And waited.

Cooper: HEY!

Officer: Yes, hello. Sorry, difficult crossword puzzle.

Cooper: Great, whatever, do you have anybody in the cells?

Officer: Umm yeah, I think so. I'll just have a little... check for you now...

Iris: Thanks a lot officer.

Cooper bowed to Iris' ear and whispered...

Cooper: Thanks a lot officer. Oh take as much time as your want officer. We've got all day officer. Maybe if you want we can - OOF!

Iris stuck Cooper with a sharp elbow to the ribs. I'm just being polite. I don't think we're going to get out of here any faster acting like we own the place.

Cooper: Who cares? I'm in a hurry. In case you didn't notice, our match is tomorrow. I don't have time to deal with these lazy people. In fact, he should recognize me. He should know who I am and be working twice as hard fo-

Iris: Oh shut up. I'm just saying that you can't expect everybody to work on your clock.

Cooper: Actually, that's where you're wrong. Anyway...

Cooper focuses his eyes back to the clerk who is readying a reply

Officer: Alright. We've got cell 2, 3 and 6 occupied. Name?

Cooper: I'm Justi-

Officer: No, no the name of the man you're looking for.

Cooper: Hmph. It's, uh, Burnside. Umm.... wha.... Iris, what's his first name?

Iris: Logan. Logan Burnside. Shows how much you care eh?

Officer: Yes, he's just down the hallway over thhhhhere, he says gesturing weakly without looking. If you speak to the man standing next to the blue door, he'll tell you exactly which door it is.

Iris: Thank you. Justin!

Cooper: Tha...th - tha - than, oh forget it. I'm not thanking that.

Officer: Hell of an attitude you've got on yourself there young man.

Cooper: Yeah, shove off.

Cooper turns around and starts on the corridor alluded to. Iris follows slowly with a disapproving shake of the head. Seconds later they reach a rather burly, but better dressed officer holstering an impressive collection of keys on his belt.

Cooper: Logan. Logan was it? Yeah, Logan Burnside.

Officer: Sigh. Yes sir. Who should I say is visiting?

Cooper: I don't know, hmm. Just say maple syrup, he should know what it means.

Officer: Sure.

The man swivels to the door he happened to be leaning on and reaches for his keys, before quickly retrieving the correct one and opening the door. He ushers the two visitors to wait for a second, but quickly comes back out again. Go ahead, he says, winding his hand around to indicate some degree of hastiness.

Cooper and Iris enter, but their attention is immediately sucked in to focus upon the big guy with no shirt on huddled in the corner of the room.

Iris: Thanks, we won't be long. The door shuts behind them.

Cooper: So. HEY LOGAN! WAKE UP! Hey! Hey, Logan, what did they do you for.

Logan, who had been deep in slumber begins to stirr, enough so that he may actually respond to the not so gentle prodding by his tag team partner and mentor.

Burnside: ARGRRAAH! Cooper? Iris? Hi guys.

Cooper: Yeah, nice to see you too. Burnside, what did you do to get them to lock you up like this?

Logan: phhhhhhhh.... I. I, erm, am not sure. I remember.....pancakes. Pancakes and syrup. Then I had a drink, someone gave me a...a beer or something. And then I offered some guy syrup and he took offence. Then a....taser? Banging my head on the police van. That's.... all I remember. And now.... here!

Cooper: Nevermind. Says on the door you got involved in some sort ofviolent altercation. But not a scratch on you. That probably doesn't spell good things for the other guy.

Iris: Should we, erm...

Cooper: Yeah yeah. OK Burnside, we need to get you out of here. I've spoken to the police and paid your bale, 500 dollars. You're lucky that winning our match is worth far more to me than that. You do remember about our match tomorrow don't you? Well whatever, get up big man.

Burnside: Yeah... the match. I almost... umph. He gives up mid-sentence, talking isn't worth the energy cost to make the return.

The three mismatched men group together and begins to walk out of the police station, and out of this embarassing scenario. That is until Burnside stops on the spot, and his eyes widen to the size of golfballs. He is staring over at the front desk to the man who inhabits the action of talking to the duty officer. He can be heard to say "Come on now my good man, where is Mr. Burnside. I won't ask again."

Burnside takes half a step backward and his mouth expands into something of a gape.

???: Oh there you are you! The man pulls a phone out of his trouser pocket and begins to play a video. "And finally today, a local man has been arrested after a public brawl ensued in the seating area of a Burger King. Police say the dispute started after one of the two alledged perpatrators offered another man some sort of food item, at least according to the reports of onlookers, and the man in question became quite agitated when his he was refused his offer. The two men, a Mr. Logan Burnside and a Mr. Jim Ardenson are both being held in police custody at this moment. The moment recieved such a high degree of attention because of the public nature of it's discourse, and it has been noted by the police that many people did, in fact, record parts of the scene on mobile or camera phones." They then proceed to show a 2 minute video of you breaking two fingers of some poor so-and-so, throwing him across tables and what have you.

???: THIS is how I find out? You had your one phone call and yet I heard nothing, enlightened only by this abominable news story. DO YOU HAVE ANYTHING TO SAY FOR YOURSELF?!

Logan merely peered teary-eyed almost at the ground and whimered in muted tones.

Cooper took a moment to interject himself from this situation. It was quite an odd spectacle and not one that he had exactly expected to behold given the nature of his mentee's physical exertions. But it was happening. An old-ish man, possibly in his mid-50s was herranguing a muscle-bound man who could have outsized him by a clear foot. Still, he didn't appear like any man of his age. He was energetic, vivacious even, and he showed the signs of scars on his hands. His grey tufts of hair which were divided by a clear area of no-growth stood to attention as if they couldn't afford to be seen not to. His voice, whilst not overpowering loud, held a very oaky timbre that didn't demand attention, but knew the right way to attain it. The verbal thrashing that the large creature was recieving was nothing short of humbling. It was clear that whatever this man held over his student, it was incredibly powerful and not to be questionned. Perhaps it was merely intellect. Perhaps it was something far more sinister, Logan may not have been a genius, but he wasn't stupid. He wouldn;t put up with this if there wasn't a good reason why he didn't have to.

???: Now can you remember who it is you're facing tomorrow?

Logan sort of tilts his head as if searching for an answer he knows is locked away somewhere.

???: No?! You fool. I suppose the last three days have been a complete waste for you then? Triple X ring any bells eh? What about Mick Overlast? Huh? The Elite X championship, mean anything to you does it? Seen as you clearly truly cannot remember, I will indulge you, but be warned because I wil not repeat myself again, and I will not tolerate failure to act appropriately upon my information. Mick Overlast, the Elite X champion is the man who removed that title from the man standing to your left over there, Mr. Cooper. And whilst I'm at it, it is a pleasure Cooper. Overlast is the bane of your partners persuit, henceforth you will do whatever is within your ability to ensure that he causes no further stress to your mentor Justin. Oh an Iris, I had heard about you also. Anyway. Triple X - He's a mistake, a blight on the surface of a great wrestling organization. He's thinks that because he freely risks himself on a regular basis, that he has nothing to fear. I'm sure you can do more than enough to dispel such a poorly conceived notion, you are enough to create fear in the pit of anybody's stomach at my helm.

???: Now, gentleman. Let me apologize on behalf of my big.... heffalump over here. How much is the damage.

Cooper: That'd be 600 dollars your honor.

Iris: Your honor? It's 500 dollars, but really you don't have to, I mean he's under our -

???: No I insist, and besides you are very much mistaken. Although you may be mentoring him within the ring, I am his teacher, his ambasador, you might even call me his owner. But he is avery loyal boy. He removes the leather glove from his right hand, resches into his inside jacket pocket and licks his thumb flicking through a series of high-value bills. 300...400...500... Here yo- he extends the money towards Cooper but retracts half way. Perhaps this money is better with you sir. He extends his hands to Iris who gleefully accepts.

???: And now we must be taking our leave. He signalls with his fingers to Burnside, who in a trance-like fashion looks up emotionless and begins to follow with his gaze fixed upon the finger. The strange man stops, pulls out an old pair of spectacles and peers over the front of the desk. My good man, I believe the word you are looking for is syzygy, and with that he removes his glasses and marches, a proud stalwart with his keen lapdog tethered steadfast to his heels.

Iris: What the...?

Cooper: I know. Well, I don't know, but... wow.

Iris: Do you think he'll be ready for tomorrow? He's had a hard day today to perpare fully.

Cooper: I can't say for definite. All I know is that it makes a whole lot more sense how that big oaf managed to make his way into this business. Brawn and brain, yeah, I am feeling pretty confident.

You can drive. And with that he tosses the car keys to Iris who follows begrudgingly.