Kingdom Come V: Callahan vs. Showtime vs. Holmes (c) - World Heavyweight Championship

[Harthan]

For the first time ever in WZCW history, the final match for the World Heavyweight Championship will not just feature the champion going up against the Lethal Lottery winner - this time, a third man will be added to the fray as the former champion "Showtime" Cougar will be involved alongside Drake Callahan and current reigning title holder Steven Holmes. All three man have been almost exclusively involved with the title since Cougar won it prior to Redemption, changing hands multiple times between the three but with this huge Triple Threat match headlining the event, this will be the last time that all three could see the title in their reach for a very long time. All three are at the top of their game and will not be losing this precious opportunity, especially with Steven Holmes only recently capturing the title. But can he take down the experienced veteran "Showtime" who has headlined the event before and already knows the pressure of Kingdom Come as well as the crafty Callahan who has been near unstoppable for the last few months?

Deadline is Thursday July 25, 2013 @ 11:59 P.M. (Central). No Extensions​

 

[FunKay the Inevitable]

00:34

It is past midnight and we are welcomed by the sight of a dark hotel room. Inside this room lie three beings of great power. One is proper upright in a chair, he is usually ever vigilant, a gatekeeper and protector. Tonight though is the eve of war and tonight he sleep. He is tall, bearded and powerful. He is Erik Holmes. The second being too is asleep. Much like a being from a fairytale, she is timelessly beautiful. She sleeps on her side, curled up with the covers, dreaming of sweet things and destruction. She is the ice queen incarnate despite her name. She is Celeste Crimson. And the third being? He too is still. He too is ever aware of the eve of war. But he too is perfectly aware of what comes next. He is the king, the conqueror, the ruler unquestioned, the champion, the God. Or at least that is what he had long believed. For tonight, he is restless. For tonight, he is awake. For tonight and forevermore he is Steven Holmes.

As the red digital dots of the clock burn themselves onto the unblinking eyes of Steven Holmes, he sits and ponders the passage of time. He wonders just how in history he shall be remembered. He wonders what will happen when he embarks upon his war tomorrow. He has promised bloodshed. He has hyped destruction and death. He has vowed undisputed victory. He has done all this but suddenly things don’t seem so grand anymore. Suddenly he has something creeping in telling him it’s not alright. Suddenly his mind won’t allow him to sleep. Suddenly, insomnia plagues him. His eyelids are heavy, his mind woozy and his body aching for rest, but it has not come and it feels like it shan’t. It isn’t the wounds of battle that keep him awake tonight, but something else.

00:35

The clock changes and Holmes ponders what the symbolism of a clock changing could mean. Does it mean his time is up? Drake Callahan had suggested that his time was indeed over and that Drake would once again regain what belonged to him. Was this mere foreshadowing and mockery of the digital clock from a real God? A vengeful deity who has come to spite Holmes for his blasphemous preaching’s? Was Drake Callahan the keeper of the power of the true God? Was Drake going to slaughter Holmes and throw him from atop the heavens and steal his throne? Surely not. Drake reeked of desperation and while he is as cunning and devious a foe as any Holmes had faced prior, he had history with cut-throats and was well educated in their ways. He hadn’t spent the past month researching Drake’s matches of past to not know how to send his foe back scurrying.

Perhaps the clock meant David Cougar? The so-called “Showtime” was champion twice in the past and as time loops itself infinitely, going through the same 24 hour pattern every single moment of every single day of every single life, maybe Cougar was set to regain the crown Holmes had taken from him? David Cougar was now and forever. Was that it? Again, it seemed like utter madness. He had been manipulated, overwhelmed and out manoeuvred in the past, after all that is what brought Holmes to the fore-front of the world. That is why he lay here with his beau. That is why his brother sat, guiding his safety. That is why his shield and sword lay here prior to war and will continue to do so after it all.

00:36

For the first time tonight, Holmes shows emotion in his face as his rage begins to increase pondering thoughts of war and the doubt creeping into his ear and beyond. This clock mocks him and he knows it, but what does it mean? There has to be another meaning to this insanity, but Holmes knows not what it is. Something had changed in Holmes since the moments where the three faced beast known as Barbosa had obliterated him all over an announcers table. He went from a brave, noble warrior king to being a bed-ridden. He had calculated that he could spend as long as he wanted or needed in hospital and his minions would serve him well. He was left disappointed. He had failed in his ploys; David Cougar was added to an already volatile mixture that included himself and Drake Callahan. This was the first example of the doubt slinking into his mind and it sits there, like a great big fucking praying mantis it sits there, digging its claws in and sitting back, mocking him, just as this infuriating digital clock does. It sits there, bold-faced, smirking and laughing at him and he can’t bloody stand it.

00:37

Holmes rises in a fury. He’s had enough of this clock. He may need it to beckon him, but he need not face it and if he can’t sleep, then why should he be mocked by an inanimate object with potential divine prophecies. For the first time, something moves in the grey of the night as Holmes slithers off the bed. He wishes to leave his lady undisturbed, and after a little shuffle and groan of a dream, she is indeed unmoved. Holmes’s rage becomes a smile as happiness seeps into his soul for once and he expresses a fondness for Celeste. He blows her a kiss, knowing that it will indeed find its way to his love. Then, something in his stomach sinks. He feels ashamed of his actions from a moment ago. A kiss? A KISS? He was a bloodthirsty warrior king who drank from his foes skulls and bathed in the moonlight. He was a mythical monster and a champion of the world all rolled into one and he was blowing this wench a kiss. What had he lowered himself to? He had used Celeste as a weapon like any good solider would, but he had also taken her for his own. No doubt she gave him great pleasure both on and off the battlefield, but had he fallen in love with her? Had he succumbed to Cupid’s pointy arrow of fate? The answer it seemed was yes.

Was this the weakness he had begun to feel? Was the doubt linked to his love? It was often said that love made men weak in the knees and Holmes had already had this happen once prior. His previous experience with the original Mrs. Holmes had left him the weak link of a two man set-up known as The Crashin Movement. He and Steven Kurtesy had been champions of the world too at the point in time and because of Holmes’ wide-eyed nature and outright moronic actions in that period, their reign was short-lived and ended with Holmes crushed by the formerly massive Wasabi Toyota. It was a memory he’d rather forget, but it was coming back and he couldn’t stop it. He was corrupting himself all over again, wasn’t he? Ridiculous.

Celeste Crimson was his sword of justice. She had been there when he needed to take up arms and she was a useful weapon, but she was so much more too. She was a soul that he had found alone, cold, damaged and a soul he had nursed back to health and back to the ways of a warrior that she always had been. She had reciprocated that nurturing, that healing and that love that he had put into her and they had found one another tantalised by the power, the ability and the sheer similarity. This was a feeling he had felt before, but this time it was reciprocated in full. This time it was mutual. He recalled how he and Celeste had allowed themselves to consume one-another the eve of the championship victory and how phenomenal it felt to finally be free of the burden of the first Mrs. Holmes. How amazing it was to no longer be labelled as a “future World Champion” for it was now, it was reality. It was true and so was that evening. It wasn’t just lust and passion but far more. Celeste was not the problem, and at his own confirmation, Steven smiled softly, pleased with his conclusion.

Turning away, Steven bumped into his brother, his brethren, his blood. He rocked the chair in which his shield of justice sat. It was enough to wake Erik up, at least partially. His eyes were slightly open as he gazed up at his brother who calmly put his hand on his brother’s shoulder and spoke in a hushed whisper of a voice:

Steven: Sleep now brother, and dream of the battle ahead. Dream like when we were children.

Following his elder’s suggestion, Erik dropped off again and once more Steven smirked, but again that doubt swept up his spine. What if it was Erik who was the herald of this horrendous nagging? Since his brother had returned to him, Steven’s ascent to the top had been rapid. Together they had conquered the world and stormed the Bastille of WZCW. Together they had accomplished wonders. They had shed so much blood that Steven had once even considered rebranding Erik with the nickname he had earned as a child; Erik the Red. A physical specimen and a tough bastard of a man, Erik was always involved in some sort of physicality and usually would spill some blood whenever it came about, staining his clothes a claret colour, hence the moniker. However, had the blood spilled over the Steven now? Previously Steven had aligned himself with the presently reigning Elite X Champion John Constantine. The duo had left a trail of devastation in their wake and even obliterated and annihilated Big Dave essentially ending his career. But Constantine stabbed Steven in the back and left him for dead against his fiercest foe. Was history repeating much as the clock had potentially warned? Would Erik drop Steven into the lion’s den and feed him to Callahan and Cougar? It seemed unlikely.

While Constantine was an ally, he was always a shark and once blood filled the water, he was always ready for the kill. Constantine, much like Callahan, was and always will be a cut-throat. Erik was family. The same blood ran through their veins. Their bond was greater than any other Holmes had with other men. Erik was a loyal and worthy foot soldier. He had accepted responsibility for crippling Triple X. He was part of the grand scheme to wrestle the Heavyweight glory from David Cougar. He had taken the fall for Steven more than once in the lead up. That brotherly love, that camaraderie comes not from similar ideals or alliances, but from their intertwined history and genetics. They were both born better and they knew it. Erik was brutish and physically overwhelming; Steven was calculated and calm, precise to the last. Together they formed a dominating duo, and with the introduction of Celeste, while their relationship had taken a slight back seat, they were a terrifying triad of beauty, brawn and brains. Steven had the world where he wanted it and his brother and beau at his side so why on the eve of war was he left wide awake? Why were there doubts? Why? WHY?

As a headache began to surface, Steven rubbed his forehead and staggered across the hotel room. It was open, spacious even, but it was veiled in the grey of night, the darkness was never full in this city. The bright lights and the big city cast an illuminating glow wherever they went and night no longer existed in its fullest terms. Even with the pitch black curtain drawn, light was able to wriggle its way through the stitching and fabric. It was much like how Holmes took gold from David Cougar. He has bombastic him with so many concerns, the knowledge of Cougar’s wife and child, a potential bounty, the lurking presence of Erik and of course, the fact that Steven himself was a murderous jackal lurking in the shadows. It was a successful formula, and one he had hoped to repeat en-route to this event, but Barbosa had put a stop to that. A golem of destruction, Barbosa had taken Holmes’ hopes for total and unbridled domination and manipulation and dropped them into a vat of acid. He had wiped out any chance of that by hospitalising “The Elite” and Holmes was never quite the same since then. So Barbosa, that was the answer, surely? The bipolar freak of nature was responsible for this? It would be twisted if true, after all, it was Holmes, amongst others, who had helped Barbosa capture the World Championship the sole time he had held it. A solid theory, but again, it seemed a tad out there.

Barbosa’s mind set lacks the ability to plot ahead. One moment he is excitable and the next he’s a murderous creature filled with uncontrollable power before settling for a time as a cold calculating monster, almost similar to Steven himself. The nature of the triple personality meant that Barbosa was unstable and Drake Callahan had merely utilised that to his advantage, sicking the monster on him. No doubt that should the time come, the battle between Holmes and Barbosa would be catastrophic for most and create tremors, craters and other natural disastrous that would leave the world scarred and charred. Barbosa was dangerous and monstrous but he was not the cause of the venom running through Holmes’ system, not yet at least. And with that, Steven sought air to clear his head and pulled back the glowing darkness of a curtain and stood bare to the world below.

What Holmes saw was a world of neon genius. He saw how the bright lights danced off of the night sky and suddenly his head was clear. This truly was a City of Angels. It was enchanting, enlightening even. The beauty made Holmes forget his woes for a moment. He stared out through the window, taking in this home for saints and sinners alike, he caught something in the corner of his eye that made his blood run cold. He looked out and it wasn’t beyond the confines of the room that his doubts lay, but very much closer to home. It wasn’t Celeste Crimson or Erik Holmes though that cast this negative atmosphere around Steven Holmes, but he himself. His reflection was just as aghast as he was and he backed away, knowing what was lurking. He retreated from the window, almost falling backwards. Pain shot up his leg, the Barbosa injury flaring once again. He spun around, confronted by the grey of the room once more and grimaced, the pain increasing. He needed solace and somewhere to confront. The bathroom! He carried his limping self towards the solitary spot.

Spinning into the bathroom, Holmes closed the door promptly behind him, locked it shut and collapsed onto the toilet behind him. He hadn’t found the time to switch the light on and sat, alone in the darkness of a toilet, excruciating pain now starting to flare worse than ever before and a headache that was fighting from within his skull to escape the gooey brain that lay within. He held his head in his hands and dug his digits into his skull to alleviate the pain on two fronts. He grit his teeth and held back screams of anguish. This was a nightmare. The doubt was manifesting itself into a physical form and it was burning Steven across his body. Was this some sort of joke? He was a God, he was a king, he was a champion. To him that was undisputed; but he knew what he saw in that reflection. He saw a man’s doubt, his own doubt. The source of this creeping uncertainty wasn’t anyone but himself and now it was burning him worse than ever. The revelation was going to destroy him physically and mentally and all before the greatest battle. All before he took to his stage and all before he had the chance to massacre the infidels. It couldn’t end this way, could it? No! NO! It couldn’t and it won’t!

Holmes rises. The pain on his face is rich and obvious as he limps heavily to the light switch which he batters down with his entire palm. He nearly falls backwards, but he puts his weight onto his good leg and hobbles onwards. He moves towards the sink, and confronts himself in the mirror above. He continues to grind his teeth together as he puts the bad leg down. He stares at himself and wonders what happened. Did his prophecies not come true? Did he not destroy David Cougar, exposing his personal and professional fallacies? Did he not bring forth a new era in WZCW? Why the doubts? And especially above all, why now? Is this merely butterflies fluttering around in his gut or is this a deeper rooted evil? Steven looks into his own eyes and sees something. The distraction allows the anguish to die down. Both legs begin to support his weight equally and his headache subsides. He notes that he is tired, but not in a sleep deprived form. He is tired of running around trying to slaughter men like cattle on a grand scale. He is tired having his minions and his family do the obliteration. He is tired of not taking to the theatre of war himself.

For the past several weeks and months, Holmes has used bounties, he has used his brother, his new darling, his money, his power and his influence to outmanoeuvre, out think and overcome his adversaries. When he had to step forth into battle, he was forced to tap to Drake Callahan and that has stuck in his throat since the SuperShow. Tomorrow though he embarks on a three way fight to the death where two hungry challengers fight for there once obtained opulence:

Callahan is like a starving animal, ready to pounce and tear and triumph any way he can in the ring. Holmes appreciates that, he felt that before when pursuing the championship. However, Drake doesn’t have an infrastructure much like Holmes did. Drake has come and gotten lucky with what Barbosa did and taken advantage, rather effectively thus far, but Steven is out for blood and out for a form of vengeance. The World Heavyweight Champion will stoop to any level that he needs to keep what he has worked so hard for and climbed so high to achieve. He struggled for a lifetime to become omnipotent and he refuses to let that slip through into the little bearded man’s grubby fingers.

Cougar is a man bent on revenge. He wants to bring Steven Holmes to his knees for what he did to his life. He wants to watch the kingdom Holmes has built burn and take back what he believes is his. He is most mistaken if that is what he thinks will in actuality happen though. While an unquestionably talented athlete, “Showtime” is sloppy. His burning emotions and desires have rendered him weak and open to attack. He has gone for all out attack and left his defences open for Holmes to lead a crusade in. His one man army will rip and tear asunder until all that is left of David Cougar’s legacy as champion are whispers amongst the peasants of the realm. David Cougar falls and Steven Holmes finally adds his head to a pike.

With those thoughts filling his mind and starting to lift the fog that is nestled deep, Holmes turns on the cold tap of the sink. He allows the water to flow and run, its temperature dropping the longer it is left alone. Eventually Steven deems it suitable to use and rinses his hands quickly before filling them with water and throwing the cool liquid onto his face. He repeats this several times until eventually he has had enough and turns the tap off. He looks at himself in the mirror and suddenly everything is as it was in the kingdom of Holmes. The doubt appears annihilated. The questioning ceases. Holmes has freed himself from his own constraints and he has opened the floodgates. The war comes tomorrow and he will dance in the moonlight, covered in blood, victory his, his legacy intact, his future glorious and above all else, his victory secured. He will ride into the kingdoms of Callahan and Cougar and he will slaughter all that lay in his path. He expects casualties and is under no illusions that the campaign will be hard and dangerous, but he will win because he will be damned if he loses. He has climbed for so long and so hard to reach his throne, he refuses to give it up now. Omnipotence is his. He is king, he is champion and he is God.

The reflection in the mirror smirks at Steven Holmes and he chuckles lightly so as to not wake his new family. He grabs a towel and drives his face off. He turns, swiftly shuts the light in the bathroom down and unbolts the door. He walks without a limp or a wound and makes a beeline to the bed where Celeste sleeps. He passes his sound asleep brother and smiles, glancing at him. He climbs into the bed, pecks his queen on the cheek and lays as he had when we entered. She rolls over and hugs her king and he stares at the red dotted clock once more.

00:50

Its significance? It is a countdown. A countdown to until the one true God takes the stage and wins the holy war that awaits. That moment is today and for Steven Holmes, his Kingdom Come.

 

[Showtime]

Copeland: "WILLENIUM RIGHT INTO THE CHAIR."

Cohen: "NO, NO, NO."

Will slowly crawls to place an arm over Rios, as the official of the match is still out cold. Meanwhile, the other official notices the count after so long, then rushes into the ring to make the count. 1........................................ 2......................................... Rios barely kicks out, shocking the entire crowd!!! The secondary official in the ring slides the chair outside the ring, unsure who used it and unable to make a call regarding it, as he continues the match as the newly appointed official.

Will and Rios slowly begin sitting up, as both men on their knees start punching each other. Slowly, little by little both individuals are to their feet, only for Rios to swing wildly as Will ducks then delivers an inverted headlock backbreaker then turns it into a russian leg sweep, floating over into a cover. 1.............................. 2............................ Rios once again barely shooting the arm up before the 3 count.

Copeland: "Damn Jackie, this is a long, yet exciting match."

Cohen: "I hear you on that one. If it doesn't end soon, I am going to pee my pants."

Copeland: "You have fun with that Jackie Boy."

The original official on the outside of the ring is coming two, pulling himself up as Will and Rios are once again back to their feet. Rios tries another wild punch, only for Will to duck underneath and get behind Rios, delivering a german suplex. The secondary official slides down to make the count, while the original official is counting on the opposite side.. both men have their shoulders down.. 1................................ 2................................ both men suddenly shoot their shoulders up!!!

Will gets to his feet, as he stumbles toward the corner, only to once again signal out for his finishing move. Waiting on Rios, who is losing a lot of blood, as Rios stumbles around, Will once again attempts a WILLENNIUM, only for Rios to catch Will's foot, spin him around and kick him in the gut, going for his own finisher, the PERFECT SHOT! Will suddenly trips Rios' up by sweeping his feet, then rolling into a cradle pin, as the official makes the count. 1................................ 2................................ 3!!!! The fans erupt with cheers, as Rios kicks out just right after the 3 count, seemingly stunned at what's just happened!!

Copeland: "BIG WILL HAS DONE IT. HE HAS WON THE WZCW TITLE."

Cohen: "Yeah, as much as I don't like it, both men really gave it their all tonight."

Will rolls over, looking at the official, as Rios is glaring and shaking his head no. The official signals for the bell, as the fans are going crazy. Rios gets to his feet, as he's arguing with the official about the count, only for Will to remain on his knees, just staring in disbelief that the match just ended.

Showtime: A moment can define you. It can change the way everything about you is viewed, and it can live on forever in the annals of history.

Harrys: "Ladies and Gentlemen, the winner of the match.. AND NEW.. WORLD.. HEAVYWEIGHT.. CHAMPION!!!!! 'THE ONE' BIG WILL!!!!!!"

Rios is livid as the official takes the Championship and walks toward Big Will, to present him with it. Rios suddenly grabs the Championship away, shaking his head no as the entire crowd erupt with boos. Will gets to his feet, both men barely able to stand, as both officials are asking Rios to give the Championship to the new Champion. Rios just stares at the title that was his for so long, only to nod his head. Rios shoves the nearest official out of the way, only to grab Will by the arm and pull him to the center of the ring.

Rios takes the Championship and places it on the shoulder of Big Will, only to then raise his arm, as Rios acknowledges the new Champion!!! Rios begins clapping, as he then extends his hand, only for Will to look at him questioning for a moment, then Will shakes Rios' hand as both men embrace in a hug. The fans erupt with cheers as pyro shoots from all around the stadium!!!

Look at these two. Rios was World Champion for almost the entirety of his career in WZCW, but he is often regarded as someone who was never around. Big Will’s title reign ended the very next show and his career not long after, but the moment they created will always be remembered. Big Will ended the reign of Joseph Rios at Kingdom Come I.

The camera spins around to see all the people in attendance and stops on a young blond haired man clapping. The camera zooms in and we see clearly now that this is "Showtime" David Cougar, attending his very first WZCW event months before he signs his first contract.

I intend to make my moment happen right here.

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The Road to Glory: Kingdom Come V​

AAAAHHHHH!

Thud!

The scene opens with a body crashing hard onto the mat. The camera is on the ground at ringside to view the shot, which looks like the body is coming through the TV right into your living room. A second camera at crowd level shows the inside of a ring. A tall man dressed in boxing gear stands in the ring as the fallen man gets back up. We see that it is "Showtime" David Cougar as he takes the mouth guard that has fallen out and places it back into place. He taps his gloves together and appears ready to continue as his voice can now be heard speaking over the scene.

This ain’t no fucking Rocky montage. There’s no uplifting theme song. No Hearts on Fire or Eye of the Tiger. No stereotypical villain. Well... evil Brit, mad conspiracist..., I guess there are stereotypical bad guys, but this isn’t about those things. This is about one thing, training.

Showtime dances towards his opponent and peppers him with a few jabs to the face. His opponent throws a right that misses as Showtime leans back and then delivers a good left to the face. He follows up with a couple jabs and then ducks another cross and scores two solid punches to the ribs before dodging another Punch and bouncing away.

Training hard. Training to be better, to be faster, stronger. Training for tomorrow. Training to fight.

Showtime comes in and his opponent surprises him with a hard strike to the head.

Training to win.

Showtime comes back with a right of his own before dodging a return strike and then follows up with several more shots to the head and body. His opponent covers up as best he can as Showtime continues the barrage until the training in the ring ends the session.

To help win and become the best, sometimes you need to be taken out of your own element. I never tried boxing before, but it’s a great way to stay in shape, and harness your emotions and use them to your advantage. Too many times before I've let my emotions get the best of me.

----------

Kensworth: Good evening ladies and gentleman. We are live here at Wembley Stadium, the site of Kingdom Come II, and with me at this time is the WZCW EurAsian Champion "Showtime" David Cougar right before he is set to compete one on one against-

Showtime puts a hand over the mic. The crowd boos loudly at the fact their country man’s name was cut off. Showtime grabs the mic from Leon and speaks.

Showtime: This isn’t about Big Dave, this interview is about me. I’m not here to argue politics or provoke some sort of national pride from these fans. I don’t represent Canada, or the US, or North America. I represent the World! And the World began here.

Showtime points to the centre of his championship belt.

Oh sure, if you are of evolutionary belief, the World of Mankind began in Africa from monkey’s swinging on trees. The civilized world, the industrial world, began once we set foot off east into Asia and up north into Europe. The world began on the super continent of EurAsia, and I represent its champion. A World Champion needs to represent all nations, to be all that one views its champion to be. I am that champion. I am that person who can break boundaries and represent the world as one. I am that once in a lifetime wrestler that people will either want to cheer or love to hate. Wherever I set foot, I draw that type of reaction because I am something the world hasn’t seen much before. Not quite a legend yet. A star in the making yes. One that people whisper among themselves in anticipation! And here at Kingdom Come II they will witness the beginning of it! What better place to bear witness to this than here in Great Britain. A civilization that planted its seeds on every continent. The home of a colony where the sun never sets. A place where time itself begins. The world is here watching tonight. I am home.

Showtime nods his head to the camera and walks out onto the stage as his music plays. A loud roar is heard from the crowd as Showtime’s thoughts return.

The reaction I got that night in London was one I didn’t quite expect, especially when facing one of their own. That night was the beginning of something big for me in my career, but was otherwise forgettable. The match between Dave and I was good, but it wasn’t our best. Plus, I ended up losing the title. That night instead belonged to one man.

Titus continues wrenching the Ankle lock tighter as Everest screams out in pain. He finally is able to twist around and kick Titus off of him. Titus rushes the rising Everest but Everest ducks a clothesline and connects with a thunderous spinebuster! He covers Titus but the ref is out yet again. Everest gets up and pulls the ref up from the ground but the ref is still unresponsive. He slams his fist into the turnbuckle before turning towards Titus, anger and frustration apparent on Everest's face. He grabs Titus and drags him to the corner and lifts him up to the top turnbuckle. Everest climbs up and sets Titus up for a superplex! Everest hits a few shots to the midsection but Titus counters with shots of his own before standing up on the turnbuckle with Everest and trading blows. Titus finally kicks Everest off the turnbuckle. He steadies himself and comes off the top rope and connects with the Red Comet! The ref crawls over as Titus covers Everest and gets the three count!

Harrys: Here is your winner and the new WZCW World Heavyweight Champion, Titus!

Titus rolls over onto his back breathing heavily as the referee gets to his feet. Titus gets to one knee as the ref comes over with the WZCW World Heavyweight Championship and hands it to Titus and raises his hand.

Like Big Will before him, Titus won the Lethal Lottery and followed it up by winning the WZCW World Heavyweight Championship. Unlike Big Will though, Titus continues to be a living legend in WZCW, with enough big moments in WZCW to match his impressive Hollywood resume. Still, to this day Kingdom Come II is synonymous with Titus’ World title victory, and to this day it is the biggest moment in his career.

----------

The sound of metal bars hitting the floor is heard as the scene reopens inside a gym. The camera zooms past a few muscle bounds guys talking to see Showtime working out on a stationary bike.

My training and hard work has helped me accomplish just about everything there is to win in WZCW. Championships, feuds, specialty matches, like the Lethal Lottery. All of that means nothing though when the bell rings again. Every match is a brand new race. Every feud is a sprint to see who wins. We are all equals in this match at Kingdom Come V, only on paper are we determined as to who is better and who is worse. I know very well that any underdog can come out on top and nothing should be taken for granted. I've been down that road before many times in my career. None more so than my road to Kingdom Come III.

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Dave hooks his foot under the ropes and elbows Show in the head before hitting a punch to the midsection. Show lets go of Dave and Dave lifts him up once more in a fireman's carry. The crowd buzzes loudly as Dave sets him up for a Stamp of Authority off the top rope!

Showtime tries struggling out of the carry but Dave holds him firm. Showtime panics and gets a thumb into Dave's eye. Dave let's go and Showtime gets behind Dave on the turnbuckle. Dave sits down on the turnbuckle, his hand over his eye as Showtime carefully walks onto the ropes. Dave slowly gets his vision back and stands back on the turnbuckle. Showtime suddenly jumps forward and hits a huge Enziguri, sending both men off the turnbuckle to the outside! Showtime frantically reaches out and gets one hand on the middle rope, sending his body crashing hard into the side of the ring, his feet mere inches from the ground as Dave lands back first onto the outside mat.

Harrys: Here is your winner of the Lethal Lottery, and the man going onto Kingdom Come to face Ty Burna for the WZCW World Heavyweight Championship, Showtime Cougar!

The crowd is in shock at what happened, as Showtime slowly pulls himself back onto the apron and rolls into the ring, blood still dripping from his forehead as he breathes heavily while on the ground.

Showtime slowly gets to his knees and he stares up into the sky as confetti begins streaming down from the ceiling.

From winning the Elite X Title at All or Nothing to winning Lethal Lottery III, I was on the biggest roll of my career. I felt like nothing could stop me on my quest to the WZCW World Heavyweight Title. The only thing standing in my way from accomplishing that great feat at Kingdom Come III was my greatest rival in WZCW, Ty Burna. As perfect of a setup as one could imagine to create another memorable Kingdom Come moment.

Ty turns and kicks Showtime in the gut and lifts him up in the air, looking for the brainbuster, which everyone cheers o, but Showtime reverses it into a high impact DDT and goes for another cover, 1………2………Ty just gets the arm up and Showtime is livid, slamming the mat in disbelief as he cannot get the vital 3. Ty rolls slowly rolls onto the apron as Showtime continues to slam the mat and looks disheartened that he can’t get the three. Ty pulls himself up on the outside of the apron and tries to keep himself steady despite the bad knee with his eyes focused on that as Showtime notices and launches him at the champion, grabbing his head and slamming into the top of the turnbuckle. He steps on the bottom rope and pulls his adversary up with him, pulling the champion up every step of the way. He gets his face right up into Ty, telling him the situation, Ty tries resisting but Showtime elbows him in the head and then holds his foe in position, ready for the Final Act, the look in his eyes is determined, he can feel the moment coming. He leaps off into the air with Ty, during which a struggle happens and they land but Ty is holding Showtime in the Final Séance which has both men planted far from the ropes and Showtime is screaming in pain, refusing to give up and continuously reaching for the ropes as Ty locks in the hold tightly. Showtime continues to reach for the ropes and looks determined not to give up, he looks over towards the championship belt sitting by the timekeeper, he then looks down and has no choice but to tap to the joy of the crowd.

Harrys: The winner of this match as a result of a submission, and still World Heavyweight Champion, Ty Burna!

Sadly, it was not to be for me that night. My moment was one of despair and sadness instead. The first person in WZCW to lose at Kingdom Come after winning Lethal Lottery. For Ty, it was the biggest moment in his career in the middle of a year that was full of big moments. Search WZCW and you will find a treasure chest full of big moments from Ty Burna. He is without a doubt the greatest wrestler in history of the company and his name will live on forever in WZCW, cemented by his win at Kingdom Come III

Showtime is leaning on the apron, holding his head, looking hard fought and dejected as the crowd continues to applaud as Ty is presented with his title. He slowly pulls himself up with the ropes and raises the championship to the joy of the audience as pyro overhead goes off and the lights turn red as the Master of the Ouija takes in the moment, presenting his prize to the crowd of Madison Square Garden.

----------

A loud grunting sound is heard as we return to the gym where Showtime is training. He is seen squatting huge weights while his trainer is encouraging him to keep going.

Being beaten on the biggest stage in WZCW by my greatest rival was humbling to me. For the first time in my career I began to cast serious doubt that I would ever reach the top of WZCW. Months thereafter I continued to slide down the card, competing for the Tag Team Titles long before Saxton and Saboteur helped make them relevant again. I even threatened to leave the company if I couldn’t beat an old old school wrestler named Stan Rogers.

Showtime grits his teeth as sweat pours down his face. His trainer yells at him to keep his focus and push for a few more reps.

The time spent outside of the main event turned out to be a blessing in disguise. When you first begin to find success, you usually take it for granted. You get this feeling inside of you like this is expected. That it will always be like this no matter what. Reality then hits and that’s when you realize you have either reached as high as you can go and coast from there, or you dig deep and work harder to become better than you thought you could be.

Showtime squats down low and raises slowly upward one last time, holding the dumbbell high above his head before dropping it to the mat.

At Kingdom Come IV I had one more chance to do it right.

----------

A huge cheer goes around now, as both men struggle to get to their feet. They throw one arm around the other, using each other to regain their vertical basis. Both men are exhausted and can barely stand. But then, a right from Showtime hits the mark and is slowly followed up by a right hand from Dragon. The two men rally back and forth, picking up the pace with each passing shot. Dragon attempts to nail Showtime with a spinning kick but his leg is too slow.. Showtime manages to dodge the attack and takes Dragon to canvas, locking in the Commercial Break after some struggle.

Dragon yells in agony as the hold takes away use of his legs. He tries and tries to pull himself across the ring and to the safety of the bottom rope. Outside of the ring, fans urge him to make it there. People hold their hands over their eyes or yell to make their feelings heard. In the middle of the ring, Dragon is in trouble. Yells of pain echo around the arena as Showtime levers the hold in even further, putting everything he has left in the depleted energy tank to use. He pulls and pulls on the legs of Dragon as he stretches out a hand once more. He is mere inches from the bottom rope as Showtime struggles to keep the hold locked in. With one final pull on Dragon's legs, Showtime arches his back into a contorted angle and Dragon is helpless. The referee urges Dragon for an answer to his question.

There is silence as Dragon lies motionless now. His eyes are glazed over and he is unresponsive to any attention. Showtime holds the lock in for longer, hoping that Dragon has faded. Hoping that pain threshold of the Champion has been breached. The referee holds up Dragon's hands and allows it to fall. The Champion is completely incapacitated. The referee gets to his feet and signals for the bell.

Harrys: Here is your winner by way of submission... And new Number 1 contender for the WZCW Heavyweight Championship... Showtime David Cougar!

At last you could say I did it. I won at Kingdom Come. I was guaranteed a match against the World Champion. Everything someone asks for in their career I had done, but I was still not satisfied. The best are never satisfied. They can be proud of their accomplishments, but when it comes to competing the best always know that there is more that can be done. At the same token, the best also know that it can all end in a moment.

Showtime mounts the turnbuckle and allows a wry smile to cross his face as he sneers down at Black Dragon, who is desperately trying to get to his feet and save the match. Showtime turns around quickly, just as Barbosa runs at him. Barbosa is merciless and tosses Showtime from the top rope. Showtime tumbles to the ground on the outside, landing directly on his neck. The referee is worried and puts his arms up in an “X” fashion.

Barbosa nearly broke my neck that night and from his rampage soon after he was ejected from the match. Critics say that Barbosa could’ve easily picked up the pieces and won the match had he kept his emotions in check. That doesn’t change the fact the record stands I won the match, but it does taint the entirety of what the three of us did that night. It was a special moment in my career no question, but like previous Kingdom Come before it belonged to someone else.

The pain is numbed by the fatigue, but it still remains at least partially. The professor ducks down to grab the injury, allowing Burna to try and hook the other arm. He falls backwards, and Kurtesy follows him down. He seeks to wrap his large, brutish legs around the head, seeking the coup de grace; The Final Séance! Burna tries desperately to lock the move in, but Kurtesy is fighting with the mere might he has left. The attempts of both men are feeble, but the crowd is still fully into this, running high on their own adrenaline. It is Kurtesy however who manages to outthink his now narrow minded nemesis by flipping Ty onto his belly. Noting this, he leaps onto the year long champion and wraps his legs around the waste, and then crosses Ty’s arms; Solitary Confinement! The referee is in position as Ty tries weakly to fight out of the move. He so badly wants to win, but he can’t, he simply can’t get out. His brain is no doubt bruised and lord knows what other injuries he has sustained never mind his opponent. He tries to reach the bottom rope with his foot, fighting destiny, defying fate. He tries and tries, but he fades and fades. His efforts become weaker and Kurtesy nods. The referee checks Ty one more time. He’s unresponsive. He calls for the bell. It is over. Good has triumphed over supposed evil. The fans are jubilant.

Copeland: IT’S OVER WZCW HAS WON!

Connor: Steven Kurtesy remains the Heavyweight Champion!

Cohen: You know what? I’m standing up...

Cohen does just that as nearly the entire arena rises to it’s feet to applaud such a match. Pure, brilliant wrestling has won as have the fans even if this is Steven Kurtesy’s moment. Barely able to respond himself, Kurtesy relinquishes the submission. Cohen applauds the match as do Copeland and Connor. Even Truman Harrys and all those at ringside are to their feet to applaud. The referee receives the world championship from Harrys who has the official result.

Harrys: HERE IS YOUR WINNER AND STILL THE WZCW WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION; PROFESSOR STEVEN KURTESY!

Once more the crowd is completely absorbed by the moment cheering their hero in the face of evil

Kurtesy earned his moment that night, defeating the wrestler that I couldn’t beat one year earlier. Kurtesy came a long way from being the surprise winner of a battle royal to earn a shot at the main event at Unscripted years earlier. No one expected he would qualify for that match, let alone win the World Title before me, but he did it through hard work and determination and because of all that, his moment at Kingdom Come IV will live on forever in WZCW.

----------

Kurtesy realizes his predicament and tries to find a way out with strikes but Cougar is determined and fights his way to the top rope. Both men stand precariously on the top strap which wobbles beneath their collective weight. Cougar tries to hit the Final Act but Kurtesy tries to stop it but he can’t, Cougar is unyielding in his efforts until both men go flying through the air and land with a crash as the Final Act brings them crashing to the floor with authority! Slowly, Showtime gets his arm across Kurtesy and he uses his leg to hook the limb of the champion! !...........2.................3!!!

Your winner and NEW Heavyweight Champion of the WORLD, SHOWTIME DAVID COUGAR!!!!

Callahan goes to whack Showtime with the belt... and Show ducks the contact. Drake turns around... sweep by Show again... Commercial Break locked in again! Callahan desperately crawls around but its pointless and before Bateman has a chance to react... Callahan taps!

The crowd is on their feet and roars at the loudest volume for the entirety of the night as Showtime picks up the victory and the referee signals for the bell. The match is over and Bateman cannot believe it! He is disbelief and before he can grab a microphone to over-rule the match, a team of security personnel nab Bateman and escort him out, with Myles and Big Dave watching from the ramp. Showtime is on his knees and holds his hands high in the air in victory.

Harrys: Here is your winner and NEW WZCW World Heavyweight Champion; "SHOWTIME" COOOOOUUUGGAAARRRR!!!

Showtime sits up from the pin attempt. He cannot believe it and the crowd is going absolutely nuts. Showtime looks at the referee, but the referee assures him that it was only two. Showtime gingerly makes his way to his feet. Somehow, Callahan has got to his feet in a daze. This daze leads him right to Showtime, who flips his legs out from underneath them. Showtime proceeds to grab the legs of Callahan and flip him over onto his stomach. He locks in the Commercial Break! The crowd’s reaction from the Titus kick out carries over to Showtime’s submission on Callahan! The camera shows that Titus is out and although Holmes is stirring on the outside, he is nowhere near capable of intervening.

Callahan taps!

Callahan taps!

Callahan taps!

*DING DING DING*

Showtime releases the hold and throws his arm into the air! The crowd elevates his spirit with thunderous applause!

Harrys: Ladies and Gentlemen, here is your winner by submission, and still WZCW WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION, “SHOWTIME” DAVID COUGAR!

Showtime then proceeds to reach down and cross the legs of the king, and then in a blink of an eye he pulls Constantine in for the Commercial Break! Showtime pulls at the legs as he presses down hard on the back of Constantine. Constantine screams out in pain and looks out, but he only sees the roaring crowd. His view is opposite of the time on the clock! Constantine clinches his fist tightly as he grits his teeth in immense pain! With a crimson mask and an approving crowd behind him, Showtime hears the most glorious sound:

*TAP TAP TAP*

The bell rings in signal of the submission being successful!

Harrys: Ladies and gentlemen, here is your winner by a score of 7 to 6, and still WZCW World Heavyweight Champion, “Showtime” David Cougar!

I’ve had many great moments in my career. Done many great things I can look back on with a smile. My legacy is unquestioned. My place in WZCW's Hall of Fame is waiting to be rubber stamped. Still as I approach Kingdom Come V, what could very well be the last one of my career, is my biggest moment in WZCW still awaiting me?

The video ends with Showtime standing in a door frame. Light shines around him as the crowd is heard chanting his name. We pan out and see the video was being shown on the set of The Show. Showtime stands on the stage and turns towards the audience and speaks.

Showtime: That's what it is all about in wrestling, right? The moment. That big event that helps shape and define your career. You can look beyond Kingdom Come and find that special moment in almost anyone's career. Throw out a name and for some it's obvious what their defining moment in WZCW was. Triple X winning the Elite X Title at Ascension 45. Sam Smith establishing himself as a true main eventer with his win at Unscripted last year. Barbosa cashing in his King for a Day contract at Meltdown 66 and winning the WZCW Title. When you think of those names, those are the moments that are usually the first to come to mind. The same can be said for my two opponents. Their defining moments in WZCW are as simple as mine; winning the prize all three of us will be fighting for at Kingdom Come V, the WZCW World Heavyweight Championship. Callahan won his at Redemption, while Holmes stole his at Lethal Lottery after sneaking in and out of Celeste, eh, am I right? For her sake, let's hope that doesn't end up being her defining moment in WZCW.

A small chuckle erupts from the audience as Showtime quiets them all down.

In both instances though, they defeated me to win the WZCW Title. To say I have a little personal beef between the two is an understatement. I hate Holmes for what he did at Lethal Lottery and I sure as hell ain't buddy buddy with Callahan either. There are no friends in this match, only enemies, and the three of us know each other so well. We've been in just about every PPV main event since Redemption and have fought each other so many times we can counter every move and reverse every reversal inside that ring. At Kingdom Come V this is end between the three of us. The final battle. No turning back. Whoever ends the night as the winner has earned the right be champion. Anybody can win a title though, a champion is someone who is able to defend it. I know what Callahan is capable of in those situations and we'll find out soon enough if Holmes has the ability to defend his gold successfully. I am the only World Champion in this match. I have fought the best as champion and I have beaten the best and at Kingdom Come V I will beat the best that WZCW has to offer.

The crowd cheers loudly as Showtime nods and takes it all in before speaking.

There is one more big moment left in me in WZCW and Kingdom Come V is where I can make it happen. Kingdom Come is the event where you can cement your place in WZCW lore. Big Will, Titus, Ty Burna, Steven Kurtesy, all will forever be legends in WZCW because of what they did at its biggest PPV. As you all have plainly seen, my track record at Kingdom Come is not one to go writing home about. I'm not alone though in this regard, my two opponents have not been able to do any better at the biggest event in WZCW. All three of us will be looking to create that big moment for ourselves in this match.

In a triple threat match I can only control my own destiny. I could've been here before all of you sitting in a wheel chair if Barbosa had thrown me off the turnbuckle at a slightly different angle. That didn't happen though, what did happen was I got up and finished the match and that is what has defined my career this past year. Every time I fell back down or was told it was all over, I picked myself back up and finished what I started. I won the World Title, I won it a second time, and I defended it longer than anyone has in almost two years. I have proven myself to be the best in WZCW and at Kingdom Come V I will show the world once again that I still am when I become champion for a third time. It is my moment to make, it is my moment to take, it is my moment that I have been waiting for since Kingdom Come I. At Kingdom Come V all I ask for is a moment; a moment to share, and moment to create with all of you, a moment that I promise you all that you won't soon forget. Thank you for what has been a wonderful career thus far.

The crowd cheers loudly and breaks out into loud "Showtime!" chants. Showtime smiles and nods at the loud applause. He closes his eyes and reopens them and he is once again standing in the crowd at Kingdom Come I. He looks to the ring and doesn't see Big Will, but instead a familiar face staring back at him. Showtime smiles and cheers as the blond haired champion holds up his belt as the scene ends.

 

[Harthan]

"The gods had condemned Sisyphus to ceaselessly rolling a rock to the top of a mountain, whence the stone would fall back of its own weight. They had thought with some reason that there is no more dreadful punishment than futile and hopeless labor."

-----

We had come early to Los Angeles. Set up in our hotel together, as had become our custom, Stoya had claimed the common room to make a few phone calls, leaving me the bedroom. I had had intentions of sleeping before we had to set out again - they had tapped me to do a radio interview - but I couldn't rest. There had been a thought gnawing at the back of my mind for days, ever since the end of the Supershow. Everything I'd said to Showtime was raging in my head, battering at my skull from inside, threatening to overwhelm me.

Why, in the end, do I keep doing this?

I had no answer. I should leave - but I didn't want to. Gods help me, but I didn't want to. Everything about being part of WZCW was misery - from being the pariah of the locker room, to most of the employees being unable to stomach looking at me, to the constant up and down, the winning, the losing, this endless pursuit of the world heavyweight championship that threatened to take everything from me - what good was any of it? No amount of money would ever be worth this hell that I'd put myself in, that I kept myself in, but I couldn't leave. For no better reason than that. I just couldn't.

Or maybe I could. Maybe it was time to try.

I sat up from the bed, no longer interested in even pretending to sleep. I leaned over and rummaged through my bag, grabbing a pen and a small notebook I kept in there for writing down names, numbers, times of meetings, anything that came up that Stoya wasn't around to keep track of. I stared at a blank sheet for the better part of the hour before I started to write, hesitatingly, haltingly, but in the end, I wrote:

"To Whom It May Concern:

I hereby resign from WZCW.

- Drake Callahan"

I stared at my words for a good long while. They felt alien, they felt foreign. They felt like something I could never write - but I had. Was it as simple as this? If I just handed this to someone, to Vance, or to Myles, or to Dave, would it end? Would I be free? I felt like there would be some trick, some deception, that I'd find I'd never written the words at all, that there was no letter in my hand, for this was surely an impossibility. I had left WZCW once, but not by choice, and as soon as I'd found a way back in I'd taken it. To voluntarily walk away? It wasn't possible. I had no reason to stay. I had nothing tying me down. I couldn't possibly leave.

I tore the page out of the notebook and folded it in half, in quarters, enough to shove into my pocket. I was resolved. I was going to go to Kingdom Come, find Vance, and hand him this. He would read it, and - well, I didn't know what he'd do. Probably yell and scream a lot. After all, I'd be walking out of the main event of Kingdom Come on the very night of it. He'd beg me to wrestle in the main event at least, and then talk after. I'd say no, I thought. Maybe I wouldn't. Maybe that's how it would happen - he'd convince me with a word and I'd be trapped again. After all, there was no way out.

But I had to try, at least. Didn't I?

There was a knock at the door, followed by Stoya. I shoved the letter in my pocket quickly, before she could see. She wouldn't be happy about this, either. She didn't need to know yet. We could have a little time, first. Surely we could have that. She smiled - that she should ever smile at me felt impossible. She was my lone solace through everything. She was my rock. I would surely have lost my mind - or at least, all of mind - ages ago were it not for her. And yet, my attempt at saving myself would cost me her if I was successful. She was, after all, my agent first and anything else second, we both knew that. It was enough to make me want to cry. It was enough to make me want to scream.

"Good, you're awake," she said. "We should really get going, the interview's in half an hour. You ready?"

I nodded slowly, trying not to betray any of what was going on inside my head. I got to my feet and headed for the door. I expected to follow her out, but she stopped me in the doorway.

"Hey," she said, still smiling. "You alright?"

I shrugged, trying not to let anything show. "Lot on my mind. The match, and...everything."

She kissed me quickly, before pulling back and saying, "I know it's a lot. I'm here if you need me, you know that, right?"

I nodded, finding it difficult to say anything. She smiled again.

"Let's get going."

-------


She drove as I watched Los Angeles pass by, people, cars, buildings, all of it. Stoya had been trying to drum up conversation the entire way, and I was trying to keep up, but I felt listless, incapable of managing much of a response.

"...anyway, I was hoping to look up an old friend, my college roommate actually, we lived together for three years at Cornell."

I nodded, trying to think of a response.

"She and I were both English majors. She married someone rich and spends all her time with her kids now," she said, laughing a little. "I'm not sure which of us is better off."

I nodded again. "I guess. Seems like none of you actually wind up studying books and poems for a living."

She laughed. "Books and poems, that's a pretty good summary. You wouldn't believe how much you can dig out of a few words on paper. You know, my master's thesis was actually longer than the essay I studied?"

I smiled back at her, but there wasn't much feeling behind it. I was just hoping to keep up the semblance that nothing was very wrong.

"What was that?"

"The Myth of Sisyphus, by Albert Camus. Do you know it?"

"Never heard of it," I said, shaking my head.

"It's all about existentialism. Camus was an absurdist, he thought the only way to find happiness was to acknowledge that life was just totally pointless, that there was no hope for some deep truth or some spiritual revelation. You know? But that by saying, essentially, well, this is really absurd, then you could be happy, just by acknowledging that that was it, that it was your lot."

Her words tickled at the edges of my imagination, not penetrating, but probing for weakness. "So who was Sisyphus?"

"He was condemned by the gods to push a rock up a hill for all time, but as soon as he got to the top of the hill, it would fall back down again, and he'd have to start over. Sounds like hell, right? But Camus argued that in the time he had to think about it, he'd find happiness, because he could acknowledge how absurd his situation was. And it was all a big metaphor for life and how Camus thought we could find happiness here on Earth."

I shrugged. "That's one thought, I guess."

"I thought it was odd, you know, because a lot of Camus's other suggestions for finding happiness were all about rebelling, finding happiness in hedonism or in fighting the establishment. And Sisyphus did those things before being sent to push the rock, but there was no rebelling from him then. And I always asked the question - why didn't he just tell the gods, 'No, I won't push your rock?' What would have happened? What would they have done? Maybe they would have smote him, or come up with some other horrible punishment, you know, burned him alive constantly every day forever, but they couldn't make him push the rock, could they? Maybe they could have magicked him to do it, or something, but then it wouldn't be the same punishment at all, really. In the end, he chose to push the rock." She shrugged. "That was a chapter in my thesis, basically."

She fell silent then, but she kept talking to me inside my head, her words reverberating all around as I processed what she was telling me. It was like someone had just sung the sweetest music, but I couldn't hear it. I knew there was something amazing in what she'd just said, but not what, and it felt like her words were slipping away faster and fast with every moment.

We drove on. The silence outside was matched only by the sound and the fury inside my head, pounding and pounding, on and on and on.

-----

I sat in the studio across from two hosts. They'd mumbled their names and half a dozen other things, but I had barely heard them. One of them was saying something now. A red light in the corner of my eye glared. We were live, it meant. I tried to pay attention to what he was saying.

"...and we have with us now on 98.9 'The Oxen' none other than WZCW superstar Drake Callahan, in town this weekend for Kingdom Come, which has just taken over our city as I'm sure any of you who spend a lot of time downtown has noticed," the first host said.

His counterpart picked up where he left off. "That's right, welcome to the studio Drake."

They both looked at me, expecting my response. That was the whole point of being here, wasn't it? To talk. Talk talk talk. I spend more time talking than I do wrestling.

"Thank...yeah, thank you for having me."

"For those of our listeners who don't know, can you tell us a little bit about the show?" The first host asked.

"Yeah...well, it's our flagship event. The biggest show of the year, and..." I searched for something else, and came up empty. "...yeah."

The hosts shared a brief glance, but the second one rolled with it. "Okay, well, I understand there's also a huge event at the Staples Center in conjunction with Kingdom Come where there'll be a fanfest and an entire wrestling show to go with it."

"Yeah...WrestleZone Weekend, it's, uh...it's at the Staples Center, and it's...it'll be a great time, I think."

The hosts shared a longer glance.

"Okay, and you, you are competing for the world heavyweight championship at this event. What's that like - to compete for the biggest prize in your sport?"

"It's..." I felt out of breath. My palms were sweaty. I tried to compose myself, but I just couldn't say anything. I looked over to the glass window separating the studio from the control room, and met Stoya's eye. She must have seen the concern in my face, as she immediately started talking to the producer. I hoped she was trying to end this as soon as possible.

"Drake?" The second host was saying. "Maybe you can give us some opinions on your opponents, Showtime David Cougar or Steven Holmes."

I felt rage flare up inside of me, and I was composed for a moment. "Both of them, they're just puppets, just liars, just..." As soon as it had come, it was gone. And yet, one clear thought stayed with me. "Just men, like me. No different, really...just men."

The hosts looked at each other with exasperation. I looked at Stoya again and she was shouting at the producer. It was over. I knew it.

I ripped my headset off and threw it on the table. I had to get out. I had to leave.

----

"God damn it, Stoya, I don't know what happened, okay?" We were back in our hotel room after a silent ride back. Her phone had been blowing up as the news had reached headquarters, and she'd been fighting off Big Dave and Vance Bateman as they demanded to know why I'd blown the interview.

Her eyes flashed in the way they did before she usually screamed back at me. But the flash lasted a moment longer than it usually did, and suddenly her eyes settled, and dropped to the floor. Was it fear? I felt sick to my stomach at the notion. Was that what I'd become? Did I just make people afraid of me, too afraid to tell me I was wrong? Too afraid to be close to me? Too afraid to see me for what I was?

She took a deep breath.

"Okay, Drake, I get it. I'm trying to help you here. Your head is not in the right place," she said calmly, meeting my eye at the end.

"Where is the right place for my head, Stoya? Is it aggression? Is it fury? Is it rage? Is it total and utter hatred of my opponents?" I took a deep, shuddering breath. My stomach still roiled. "I can't. I can't feel that anymore, Stoya. That - all of that - that is going to kill me if I let it. That's going to cost me everything."

"That got you to a world championship before," she pointed out.

"And it also made me punch a woman in the face and like it. Is that what you want?"

There was a stillness in the air for a moment before I realized what I'd said. She met my eye again, and this time her calm was deadly.

"Is that a threat?" she asked simply.

I wanted it. God help me, God damn me, but I wanted it. I wanted to take the few steps between us and shut her up. If she would just shut up it would be alright. My fist clenched.

"No," I heard myself saying, as if from a distance. "No," I said again, my voice stronger. "No," I said again, like a mantra, like a prayer, supplication to the nearest god who might be listening. I dropped my head. My fist unclenched.

"Okay," she said, relief in her voice. She was afraid. I nearly vomited. "Then tell me what's going on."

I didn't deserve it. I didn't deserve to unload my thoughts on her. I deserved to suffer in silence, but I had been punished with an angel.

"It's wrong," I said. "Everything I've ever said about them, everything I've ever thought of them, everything I've ever done to them. It's wrong, Stoya. It's the product of a neverending cycle of hatred, perpetuated by the men they put into place to rule over WZCW, but begun long ago. It sells the product, Stoya, don't you see? Hate sells the product, hate sells the match, hate sells the pay per view, hate pops the ratings, hate, hate, hate. They get so far inside your head that you don't even control it any more. I've known this for weeks, I figured it out and told it all to Showtime, and I still couldn't help myself on the supershow. I still took him out, because I felt, deep down in the bottom of my heart, the deepest hatred for him. But what the hell has he ever done to me, Stoya? He's beaten me in wrestling matches a few times. He's done what he's been paid to do, what we're both paid to do. I don't even know him. He has a wife and a child. He's probably a good person, Stoya. But they made me hate him. They told me from the beginning that I couldn't be boring, you get it? That I had to bring aggression, that I had to bring anger. That that would propel me to the top. But they didn't tell me that the longer you do it, the more it stops being part of the job and it starts being part of your soul. They get to you. They make you hate. They take a man, and they make a monster, so that you'll dance on their strings and say the right things and make the bloodsuckers throw their money at them, because they don't want honest competition. They don't want wrestling, they want bloodsport. They want gladiators in the arena, fighting to the death. Because that's where this ends. It ends when you're a burnt out husk and as good as dead when you can't do it anymore."

She never broke her gaze, even as I went in and out of eye contact with her. I went on.

"Who is Showtime? Who is David Cougar? I have no idea. I've accused him of absolutely everything. Called him a thief, a monster, a bastard, everything imaginable. Who is Steven Holmes? I have no idea. Just a man with some money who decided he wanted to wrestle. Maybe he isn't a good person. But do you think he started off enjoying crushing people's dreams? Do you think he was always so arrogant? Do you think he was always such a...such an utter bastard? I would bet my life he wasn't. Not everyone comes into this game a good person, but it damn sure makes you worse, slowly, slowly, bit by bit, until you wind up like Holmes. Or even worse, you wind up like me. For God's sake, Stoya, look at El Califa. I took a look around the locker room, saw a man in the mask, and invented a million reasons to hate him inside my own head. I didn't know the first thing about him. I still don't. Now he's gone, another shadow in and out of my life, but the hate remains. I think of that mask and I hate him. I think of Ty Burna and I hate him. I think of Showtime and I hate him. I think of Holmes and I hate him. I hate him, and I envy him. I want his championship. I want it more than life itself. But do I want it because it's the goal of every wrestler who ever gets into this business, because it's a sign that you've perfected your craft? Or do I want it because I hate him, and I want what's his, out of nothing better than spite?"

I took a deep breath and prepared to continue, but I'd run out of words. Instead I stared at Stoya, waiting for her to say something.

"So fight back," she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"What?"

"They want you to hate, so stop hating. They want you to draw blood, so fight clean. They want you to be their man, so be your own. If they're in your head, then get them out. Fight. Back."

"You think it's that easy? To just say, oh, I'm not going to listen to them, I won't do what they tell me?"

She looked at me for a while as the silence stretched on, before saying, "Why did you want to be a wrestler in the first place?"

To my surprise, the answer came easy. "I watched wrestlers on TV and knew that I wanted to be just like them. I wanted to entertain people. That was before I knew what those people were really like."

"You can entertain people a lot of ways. If you stuck with wrestling, there's got to be another reason."

"The brass rings. The gold. The championship. I can't even describe what it's like. To call yourself world heavyweight champion. I dreamed of it, and believe me, Stoya, when I finally had it...for everything it had cost, for everything it had taken to get it, it was everything I dreamed of and more."

"So fight for that. Fight to be a champion. Who cares who has it? Who cares what their name is, or what their face is, who they are, what anyone wants you to think of? Ignore them. Don't play the game. I've worked my ass off to get you an iron clad contract in this business. They can't stop you. Wrestle for the gold. Wrestle for the dream. You can stop hating them, if you want to."

I was already shaking my head. "It isn't that easy. You don't just walk into wrestling and leave behind everything that's come with you. Every day, you carry with you the ghosts of everything you've done before."

Stoya's eyes flared, and this time they didn't drop. "Did I say it would be easy? It won't be. It's going to be the fight of your life. I'm sure it's easy for you to hate. It's easy for you to hurt, I know that first hand. It's easy for you to come up with a million reasons why everyone in your way is horrible. It's going to be damn hard to stop listening to that voice. But if it's worth it...then you've got to try."

"I tried. I tried to step into that ring with Showtime and put it behind me. I tried to forget. I tried to forgive. I tried to let go of the hate. But I still tried to take him out. I couldn't help it."

"Do you have any idea how fucking pathetic you sound?" She snapped. "I can't, I won't, it's too hard. Either do something about it or stop bitching about it, Drake. You're about to step onto the biggest stage in the game, and it is too late to back down. You're going to step into that ring and reach for that brass ring, and whether you succeed or fail is dependent entirely on how you deal with your shit. So deal with it."

"I..." What could I even say to that?

"You are going to try, or I am going to walk. Do you know why I was first attracted to you, Drake? Because you did what you wanted. If you really want to change something, then do it. Who's stopping you?"

The pounding in my head had returned. It was too much to process at once. I sat down in the nearest chair. I felt her come and stand next to me.

"They're not going to like it," I said.

"I don't expect they will. But sometimes you have to take the risk. Sometimes you have to roll the hard six."

She put her hand on my shoulder.

"And believe me when I say that I believe in you, Drake. Not just because I'm your agent. But because I'm someone that loves you."

She leaned down and kissed me. Just a moment in time, but a moment I wished would stretch forever. For a heartbeat the storm ended in my head and in my heart.

But it ended, as it always did, and it was time to face the storm again.

------

WZCW PRESENTS
KINGDOM COME V

------

I took my sunglasses off as I stepped inside the production area they had set up in the backstage area of Dodgers Stadium. Stoya was at my side. Standing over to the right was Vance Bateman, who took immediate notice of my arrival.

I clutched the letter in my pocket. Stoya had given me one option. I had another. Vance was making his way over.

"Drake," he said, extending a hand. I took it coolly. "Are you ready for the big match?"

I was more ready than he knew. I wasn't just ready to wrestle. I wasn't just ready to win the championship. I was ready to start something that he'd never seen before. I was ready to wrestler harder, faster, and purer than anyone in WZCW ever did before. I was ready to stop wrestling for his whims, and for the pack of wolves surrounding the ring, and instead wrestle for myself and for the championship that meant everything to me. I was ready to stop wrestling because I hated Showtime and Holmes, and ready to start wrestling them with nothing but pride in my heart.

With my free hand, I felt the letter again. Was I truly ready?

"I guess we'll find out," I said, doubting myself briefly. Vance's eyes narrowed.

"I hope it'll be to my liking," he said, perhaps joking, perhaps threatening.

I felt Stoya's hand on my arm. I let go of the letter in my pocket. Not today, I thought.

I have something I need to do first.

"Honestly, Vance, I couldn't care less," I said, walking away before he had a chance to respond. I took a small measure of my pleasure in imagining his face.

"You are ready," Stoya said with a grin. She sounded more confident than I felt. I nodded.

It was time to break the cycle. It was time to tell the gods no.

And it was time to face the consequences.

----

I leave Sisyphus at the foot of the mountain! One always finds one's burden again. But Sisyphus teaches the higher fidelity that negates the gods and raises rocks. He too concludes that all is well. This universe henceforth without a master seems to him neither sterile nor futile. Each atom of that stone, each mineral flake of that night filled mountain, in itself forms a world. The struggle itself toward the heights is enough to fill a man's heart. One must imagine Sisyphus happy.

---Albert Camus