Lethal Lottery IV: 30 Man Lethal Lottery Match

[Ty Burna]

Deadline is Tuesday, February 28th at 11:59 PM EST.

The following are the confirmed participants:
#1: Matt Tastic
#30: Mr. Baller
"Showtime" David Cougar
Ty Burna
Wasabi Toyota
S.H.I.T.
Dr. Alhazred
Brad Bomb
Action Saxton
Drake Callahan
Blade
Scott Hammond
Mick Overlast
Jack Skinner
Alexander Steele
Celeste Crimson
Black Dragon
Steven Holmes
Constantine
Austin Reynolds
Ricky Runn
Phoenix
Saboteur
Triple X
Justin Cooper
Titus


Only one RP is allowed per entrant.​

 

[Low_Ki]

The scene fades into a packed gymnasium . There are a group of men over by the free weights and barbells conversing and spotting each other. There is a selection of men and women on the cardiovascular equipment, and over by the resistance weights, Scott Hammond can be seen finishing on the pec deck. Just as he gets up, Becky Serra can be seen entering the gym, looking around. He approaches her

Ah my dearest Becky, how good to see you.

Why did you bring me here Scott?

If I can be honest Becky, I am a little tired of that boring, bland and quite frankly morally backwards Leon Kensworth.

I really get on with Leon, what is your issue with him?

Well, its not that I have anything against him, I just happen to think that you are far easier on the eye.

Well if you thought anything to the contrary, you'd have a lot to answer for.

Hammond considers what she has said before realising what was insinuated and looks at her dis-pleasingly.

I take offence to that accusation Ms Serra.

Why, do you have a problem with the gay community?

Not in the slightest, and I resent that too.

Look why did you bring me here?

I wanted to show you a little social experiment. Look around Becky. This place is heaving with people no?

Yes.

Have you ever heard the story of Narcissus? Allow me to explain. Narcissus was a true specimen of a human being. He adored his appearance. One day he was walking past a lake and saw his reflection. He loved it so much he drowned because he couldn't take his eyes off himself.

What does this have to do with anything?

It has everything to do with anything. Look at all of these Narcissus clones. They care only for their appearance, they don't see the bigger picture.

Which is...?

Let me ask you, why do you exercise?

Because I want to look and feel good.

Why is it that everyone gives that answer, and not that it is good for your heart, your body and mind?

Well there is that as well but people are obsessed with the way they look.

Precisely, this they do not see the whole picture.

Can I ask where this is going? Is this another one of your metaphors?

You know me all too well Becky. That is why I prefer you over Leon, your smart. The problem is that the WZCW locker room doesn't see the whole picture. They are like all of these Narcissus wannabes. They only see what they want to see. The plan comes together at the Lethal Lottery. It will be my first Lethal Lottery match and I intend on making it a memorable one. There is so much more to this than title shots and championship belts. Myself and Mick Overlast, we know exactly what our game plan is. We will take the tag team titles off Runn Ricky Runn, but I intend on being fully focussed for my Lethal Lottery appearance.

And how are you going to do that when you have a big match shortly beforehand?

Don't you worry Becky. Its all about being a team player. The Son's Of Destiny will look out for ourselves, and ourselves alone.

Okay genius, what happens if it is down to you and Blade, or Overlast for the spot at Kingdom Come, then what?

A simple question with a simple answer. It becomes every man for himself Becky. We know that as long as one of us is in the main event at Kingdom Come, then our plan will come together just fine.

Becky stands there looking very uninterested before continuing

So, who do you want to come up against at the Lottery? Anyone in particular?

Well looking at the line up, there are plenty of opportunities to prove myself to you and every other person who doesn't believe in the Son's. There's my old friend Wasabi Toyota. A man who deemed himself to be above my level. I was just his little lacky. He never saw me as his equal Becky. He's a jealous and bitter man, and now that he has aligned himself with the 'owner' Ty Burna, I have even more reason to make sure I prove to him that I am far and beyond the better wrestler now. And speaking of Ty, what better way to make a name for yourself that to beat on and eliminate the self professed 'man'! The Apostles are also on my list, and I will make sure I get my hits in on those idiots. They run around hiding in the shadows while myself and the Son's are actually doing something to change the fate of this doomed company. But to be quite honest Becky, it doesn't really matter. I know I have at least two allies in the Lethal Lottery match, and whether your a number on Matt Tastic, or a number thirty Mr Baller, all shall suffer the same fate. I will walk out with not only a tag team title over my shoulder, I will be going to Kingdom Come to fight for the WZCW World Heavyweight Title, and that is when the change in power will truly be seen.

You seem quite assured of yourself.

If I wasn't, would there be any point in me going out there?

I guess not. Are we done here, I need to go get my nails done?

Fine, next time I will just ask for Leon.

I thought you didn't like him?

At least he listens to me. Go on, get out of my sight your harlot!

Serra gives Hammond a sarcastic look before walking off. He walks through the gym ready to leave, but before he does, he sees a man checking himself out in the mirror. He shakes his head before leaving the gym as the scene fades to black

 

[NSL]

Jack is lying on a bench in the locker room, with a towel covering his face. Becky is sitting on a chair nearby, notepad in hand, waiting for Jack to speak.

Jack Skinner: Why do I feel like you're playing therapist right now?

Becky laughs, noticing how much it does seem like a therapy appointment.

Becky Serra: I'm not, Jack. I promise. I just want to know your thoughts on the Lottery. I asked a single question, and for 5 minutes, you've laid there perfectly still, quiet as a churchmouse.

I don't know what to think, to be honest. It's the opportunity of a lifetime. I can turn my entire career around in one match. It's entirely up to luck of the draw. For all I know, I could enter at 29. I could also enter at 2. Or, I could be the unlucky son-of-a-bitch that's standing alone in the ring when Ty, or Wasabi comes out.

You're beating yourself up, Jack.

Yeah, well...better me than them, eh?

So you're giving up? Is that it?

Never. I'm going to go out there, and pour my heart out. I just fully expect them to use me as a weapon against each other. Like literally pick me up by my feet, and swing me around like a chair.

I've had it, Jack. You can be a defeatist all you want. I won't listen to it anymore.

Becky leaves, giving Jack one last glance as she walks out the door. Jack just lies back down, covering his face with the same towel.

 

[Ty Burna]

Drake Callahan and Constantine have been granted 24 hour extensions.

 

[Mick Overlast]

The scene opens in an all-white room. Mick Overlast walks into view from the right side, dressed in an all-black suit.

Overlast: My name is Mick Overlast, and my mission is nearly accomplished.

Overlast's face is zoomed in on.

Overlast: When I joined this company, I pledged to wipe out the people that made it a joke. Within my first couple of months here, I did exactly that.

Flashbacks to Overlast's victories over Jack O'Lantern and the Internet Warrior are shown. The picture of Overlast's arm raised in victory is shown before reverting back to the present.

Overlast: I then promised to make an example out of the man they call the “Ratings Winner.”

A shot of Austin Reynolds flashes across the screen.

Overlast: At Lethal Lottery, Scott Hammond and I will take the Tag Team Titles off of him and Ricky Runn. But more importantly, it's time for me to make my presence felt in the main event scene in the Lethal Lottery match. The so-called “baller” holds the advantage by gaining the No. 30 spot, but I'm not worried about someone who has come up short in the big moment again and again.

Mr. Baller is shown losing several matches, and the clip is capped off by his beheading.

Overlast: The man who stands between me and the WZCW Championship is the same guy I called a weird, spiritual freak. After I win the Lottery, he will cry from the head games I will play with him. He'll need a shrink of his own.

Dr. Steven Kurtesy's upset win for the WZCW Title is shown before the picture cuts out.

Overlast: The third-rate illusionist I called out when I joined WZCW? He now owns 50 percent of the company. He will have to deal with a Son of Destiny becoming champion before one of his beloved Apostles of Chaos.

The WZCW title belt is flashed across the screen before returning to Overlast's face.

Overlast: It appears to me that everyone is still unable to think for themselves. I've been criticized for surrendering my values to join the Sons of Destiny, but how is that possible when my fellow Sons cherish those same values? Lethal Lottery IV will be remembered as the night the Sons of Destiny took over WZCW.

You see, the Apostles of Chaos may have strength in numbers and name status, but in a few short months, the Sons of Destiny will have strength in the gold around our waists. We will have the power in this company, no matter what Ty Burna, the Apostles of Chaos or Vance Bateman will have you believe.

Once we have the power, this place will become better. And you will all thank us for saving your beloved WZCW.

Overlast grins slyly before walking outside of the shot as the picture fades out.

 

[Da Prophet]

Action In 3…2…1
Season 1 Episode 4​

Pitch black screen with the sound of a chair shots in the background…​

Narrator: Can you feel it?​

The screen begins to light up and reveals the sight of Justin Cooper smacking an opponent with a steel chair.​

Narrator: Tonight history will be made…​

Now Justin Cooper drops the chair and slowly turns around.​

Narrator: Champions will fight for survival…​

The spectacular sight of Justin Cooper holding the Mayhem Championship above his head after defeating Johnny Scumm is shown. The camera focuses on the title as it goes black and white with the championship staying a shining gold.​

Narrator: Some will fall while others will rise to the challenge. For tonight every champion pulls double duty, not one will have the night off. Everyone must fight and fight they shall…​

Cutting backstage to Cooper wrapping tape around his wrist to prevent injury just before the Lethal Lottery match last year. ​

Narrator: Back then he was just a kid who wanted to be in the ring. Now he is a champion who wants to headline Kingdom Come for the very first time. His dream is to be the best in the world and now he has the perfect chance.​

Back in the early days of his career Justin is seen running to the ring full of excitement to be in WZCW. The crowd don’t give a damn so they walk up the stairs next to them to get a drink or go to the toilet.​

Narrator: No longer is he seen as a joke that didn’t belong in the company. He is now a star on the rise and this is his moment. If anyone doubts him anymore they should step up and try their luck against the Mayhem Champion. He is the best, he is the man, and he is Justin Cooper!​

Inside a pitch black room again the camera begins to move its way up off the ground. As it inches up it reveals a leg, then a thigh and then a stomach. After a moment the shot reaches the face and Justin Cooper is revealed. He stands proudly in this dark room with a cheeky grin across his face with the Mayhem Championship in hand.​

Justin Cooper: For all those who said I was a joke, take a look at this…​

Once again Cooper shows off his championship…​

Justin Cooper: Now who’s laughing? Is it you? Didn’t think so. My dream has come true and now I will achieve another. Tonight I’m going to win the Lethal Lottery and become a double champion. I’ll have two titles, one on each shoulder. Nobody can stop me, I’ve not been pinned since All or Nothing and I don’t plan on breaking that record. Tonight I’ll throw everyone over the top it and really doesn’t matter what number I enter because the result will still be the same.​

Justin’s last appearance in the lottery is shown and his elimination by a basketball…​

Justin Cooper: Last year I wasn’t prepared but this time it is different. This time I have the mental ability, the strength and the back up to win this match. With Vladimir and the rest of the High Society by my side victory is all but promised. I dare anyone to try and stop me tonight. It doesn’t matter if you’re black, white, purple, yellow or even American just try and stop me. It won’t happen because this is my match. People are to busy looking at Blade, I say they need to take a look at me. I’m a dark horse when I should be the favourite. Nobody has had a better two weeks then me. This is where the impossible happens and this is where I win!​

Several shots of Cooper’s past victories…​

Justin Cooper: Wrestling twice means winning twice and that is fact. This is Lethal Lottery and this is my chance!​

“I shoot it low, kill the flow”​

Cooper is standing on the top turnbuckle at Kingdom Come 3 just before his violent match with Alex Bowen. The loud mouth kid yells at some of the front row ticket holders to get up and show some respect before turning as Bowen’s music hits.​

Justin Cooper: That night I failed… tonight will not be the same.​

“Ruin myself out on the north shore”​

With blood covering his face Cooper collapses inside the ring after going head to head with Bowen. Cooper cannot move an inch as medics rush down to check on him.​

“I make it one, watch the sun”​

The doctors attempt to put a neck brace on Justin but he refuses. With blood pouring from his skull Justin staggers up the ramp with the crowd watching in awe.​

Justin Cooper: It was that night that I saw discovered something inside of me. I found out that I was tougher than anyone else in this company. I walked out of that building… others would have been carried out but I didn’t. I got up and showed that I was better then you. Next time I’ll be the winner and I’ll walk out again. This time I’ll have a golden ticket to Kingdom Come when I win Lethal Lottery.​

“Sink behind the trees with the keys to the kingdom”​

Huge set of pyro goes off on the stage with the Lethal Lottery poster hanging from above. The titantron then lights up with a number countdown from 10.​

…9…​

“I shoot it high, let it fly”​

Justin Cooper: One thing that people need to remember is that I fight for my spot. I’m the guy that takes on all challengers unlike Austin Reynolds who runs away from a fight. Guys like Reynolds take tough but when it comes time to scrap he’s nowhere to be found. Cowards like that don’t deserve to be in the Lethal Lottery match and hopefully I get the chance to eliminate them. I look forward to throwing every coward over the top rope and to the floor and then making my way to the main event…​

…8…​

“Bury myself under a blue sky”​

Cooper standing outside watching as the buildings inside the High Society burned down. ​

Justin Cooper: Of the biggest pay per view of the year…​

…7…​

“I see a scheme, make it clean”​

Justin Cooper: Kingdom Come IV!​

The Kingdome Come logo shines brightly to the audience as Cooper appears standing with his championship slung over his right shoulder. ​

…6…​

“Drown in blue rivers under a muffled scream”​

Justin Cooper: Seconds separate me and my dream of being in the main event. Now I will grab it with both hands and I’m never letting go. Just like everyone else I want to be at the top of the company and not just the division. While I’m at the top of the Mayhem boys it’s totally different to be at the top of everyone. Once you get to the highest point they can never take you down. I will achieve greatness tonight and forever after. The man of the moment is Justin Cooper and this moment will last forever. My reign at the top will last forever…​

…5…​

Now Vladimir appears behind Cooper and the two stand proudly next to each other.​

“Call your number wishing I could make amends”​

Justin Cooper: The time for talk is over…​

…4…​

“And I'm caught in a space between my head and my face again”​

Justin Cooper: Now it is time for the gloves to come off…​

Vladimir grabs the Mayhem Championship off Cooper and throws it to the side. The big man then backs away slowly as a spotlight shines down on Justin Cooper.​

…3…​

“I hit it down, kill the sound”​

Ever so arrogant Justin motions for the camera to come closer…​

Justin Cooper: It’s time…​

…2…​

“Ruin myself out on the northbound”​

The camera continues to move toward Justin…​

“I make it one, kill the sun”​

Justin Cooper: For…​

…1…​

With the camera right next to him Justin smiles before speaking his finals words before he exits the room…​

Justin Cooper: Lethal Lottery IV!​

“Bury my disease with the keys to the kingdom”​

The scene fades to black with Cooper smiling back at us.​

 

[Lee]

We're backstage with Leon Kensworth who's stood by himself in front of the WZCW locker room.

Leon: I'm stood here waiting for Titus who I am reliably informed is waiting to give me a world exclusive interview, lets go.

Leon opens the locker room door inside is nothing at all.

Leon: I guess not then.

The scene cuts to Titus walking along a street, the camera is behind him, he stops and looks at a house. In the front garden is a small boy who is only about the age of five playing football by himself. He kicks the ball off the wall but the it bounces over the garden fence and lands at Titus' feet. The camera turns to face Titus to show he has a rather unkempt beard and his hair is a mess. He picks the ball up and gives it to the boy. Titus gives a smile, shakes his head and mutters to himself he then walks on his way.

A quick shot of Hollywood, California stops with Stacey Madison outside of the Kodak theatre.

Stacey: Well this week is Oscar week and there's not better person to catch an interview with than former WZCW champion and four time winner of the coveted prize. That would be if Titus had have actually turned up. What a wasted journey.

We see Titus sat on a park bench looking out over a small lake. On the lake are some ducks and Titus is just watching them looking rather anxious. He stands up and begins pacing from left to right and stops still. He mutters to himself again and walks off.

Keystone City, Kansas home to Titus. The shot is of his house that we've seen so often. It is daylight and stood outside is Johnny Klamour who is looking rather perplexed as Becky Serra comes into view.

Johnny: What are you doing here? I've got the interview with Titus.

Becky: It seems like we've been duped. Leon was told to meet him backstage, Stacey in Hollywood and you were told to meet him in his house.

Johnny: When has he tried to dupe you though? Where did he tell you to meet him?

Becky: He said “Becky why don't we meet up at my home” so I said yeah and here I am.

Johnny: That's where he is.

Becky: Where?

Johnny: He's gone home.

We see the original house as Titus walks back, the little boy is still outside as once again Titus stops. He turns to the little boy.

Titus: Is your Mammy home?

Boy: No she's at work. Grandpa's looking after me.

The front door opens as an older man in his Sixties looks straight at the boy without even second glancing at Titus.

Man: William! What have I told you about talking to strangers?

Titus: I would hardly call his Uncle Titus a stranger.

The man suddenly turns round to finally get a look at Titus, a smile beams from his face as he opens the garden gate.

Man: You look a bloody mess son.

Titus: I take after my Dad in that respect.

Titus and his Dad hugs as his Dad tells William that this is his Uncle Titus.

Titus: I've not seen you since you were even smaller, come on give me a hug.

William: Did you bring any presents?

Dad: Aye, he's an Avison all right. William you play outside, me and Uncle Titus need to have a chat.

The older male Avisons walk into the house and through to the lounge on the wall is various pictures: Titus and his two sisters in the middle of them as kids, there's also pictures of one of his sisters graduating next to a picture of Titus holding one of his Oscars.

Dad: I'm proud of you you know son.

Titus: I know, you're proud of us all. You've got three very different kids but I'm the true failure.

Avison Sr. laughs thinking Titus is joking but then realises the look of disappointment on his sons face.

Dad: You've been the best actor in the world once, you've been the best actor in a supporting role twice, you've been the best maker of a documentary once, you've been the best wrestler in the world twice. How is that a failure?

Titus: I lost after only defending it twice to Kurtesy of all people.

Dad: So? Can you remember what your Gran used to say? It's not whether you win or lose, it's what you do afterwards.

That seems to hit home with Titus who stand up and walks out the room, you can hear him walking up the stairs and then a door shuts. The face of Titus' Dad drops as he opens the door, the camera follows him up the stairs.

Titus: I know but, yeah O.K. I'll do that. Thanks.

Dad: What you doing?[ You used to do this all the time as a kid, you'd just hide in the bathroom and play with the toys in the sink.

As this is said it becomes rather apparent that the water is running.

Dad: Can you remember the first time you won an Oscar? It was the day before Jessica was due to have an interview for her university course. She wanted to miss the interview but you told her that if she missed it she'd regret it for the rest of her life, then you gave the rather bold statement...

Titus: Your uni course comes only once but I can guarantee you that I will win more Oscars.

Dad: That you did, and what about when you won your first belt? You paid for us all to have front row seats, hotel and flights.

Titus: Well it was either that or the Mega bus.

Dad: It's pointless dwelling on the past though isn't it? What about the now? What are you going to do?

There is no answer from the other side of the door. Titus' Dad sits down.

Dad: You need to focus, you've got too much going on. What are your goals?

Still no reply.

Dad: I'm guessing you don't have any beef with Steven Kurtesy, yeah he beat you but it's about the gold isn't it?

You can hear the water still running.

Dad: It's not even about Barbossa is it? You've proven you can beat him. It all comes down to Ty Burna and his cronies. This is the perfect opportunity for you to get your revenge on him, twice he's cost you the belt so why not cost him it? He has the momentum going into this using his clout as 'owner' to get himself into the match so go on, get to the Lethal Lottery and kick some backside.

The water stops as Dad gives a sigh of relief. There's a few seconds pause as the water starts running again.

Dad: You want to get your own back on Showtime, he made you tap before you won the belt. Why don't you stop him becoming the first ever two time winner of the Lethal Lottery?

Still nothing from Titus.

Dad: Fine, what about Dave? Every year someone random has shown up, he's been injured for a while so it makes sense that he'll appear in this match. Why not prove once and for all that you are the better man?

Titus' Dad stands up.

Dad: Right fine then. If you're not going to the Lethal Lottery how about we go to the match on Sunday? Me and you watch the Toon against the Mackems? I didn't think you'd have it in you to bounce back and beat thirty other men.

Titus: I don't.

The tap stops as the bathroom door unlocks, the camera shows a clean shaven Titus with his hair tied back and all pristine, just like the Titus we all know and love.

Titus: It's a good job that there's only twenty nine of them I have to beat. Sorry I can't come to the match on Sunday, I'll be getting myself ready. Pick up, dust off.

Dad: You go and get them son. I'm proud of you lad.

 

[FunKay the Inevitable]

A grand concert hall, preparing for its latest show. This is our location. These are the rehearsals for a much more important show later. It’s a show to be attended by some of the most important men in the world. The sight of a post-conference summit and a cultural taste for some. At the moment though, it plays host to a meeting between three of WZCW’s finest. The first of these men has already arrived. This is the man who has specifically requested this hall, with this backdrop for the meeting of the WZCW “Dons” as one could describe them. The mafia comparisons are obvious, but necessary. This gentlemen is sat at the back of the concert hall, plotting, conniving and waiting. He grins, baring a bright white set of teeth for all to show. This is nothing out of the ordinary surely, but when this individual is partially sat in pure darkness, it is horrifically disturbing.

Still shrouded by shadows, this individual is slightly startled as a set of doors open below him, ushering in the composer of our orchestra. He has allowed this hall to be used, but practise will go on as planned. He begins to address his crew as suddenly our mysterious individual is caught off guard by the sudden appearance of one of those he is here to meet; Ty Burna! Burna is sat in the seat just in front of the back. This startles our individual who prepares to lean forward as an ear-splitting, traumatising noise echoes throughout the halls. As the smell of cigarettes begins to flood the hall, Blade steps in, unapologetic for his noise. He even leaves the door open at first, but with the conductor staring a hole through him, he realises he should most likely close the door. With two of the three named, I suppose we should sight the third. It is naturally the Elite, Steven Holmes. He leans out of the shadows for the first time to confirm this fact. He whispers in Ty’s ear.

Holmes: Good to know you’re not the only one that can make an entrance, hmmmm?

Slightly amused, Burna chuckles lightly as Blade approaches. All three men are narcissists, hell bent on ruling the world of professional wrestling. The collision of their egos would stop any natural force of nature, and it’s only appropriate that the orchestra in its entirety is staring directly at all three of them. Blade takes a seat next to Holmes as the Elite rises to his feet. He clasps his hands together.

Holmes: Maestro, if you’d like to begin as we’re all here. We await your brilliance.

The conductor nods in recognition of Holmes’ call and takes a deep breath before twisting himself around to face his orchestra. He raises his arms and begins to conduct. The sounds that start as separate pieces of noise begin to form greatness and along with it, provide the soundtrack to our story. The players are in position, the music is here, and now we can truly begin.

Spoiler

[YOUTUBE]Zi8vJ_lMxQI[/YOUTUBE]

Requiem begins to take shape as all three men react differently to the orchestral sounds. Holmes closes his eyes and takes the sound in. Sampling it’s beauty and sadness. Ty lets it blast him with full force, facing it head on. And then there’s Blade. Uninterested in the classical Mozart tunes, Blade is all about business and that is what he came to discuss.

Blade: Are either of you two going to look at me and talk like we were supposed to?

Holmes cracks one of his eyes open and stares deep into Blade with it. His other follows as Ty rotates his head to face the supposed Son of Destiny. It’s almost like something out of “The Exorcist”.

Holmes: I’m not surprised that this piece of cultural excellence is going directly over your head Blade. I always took you for a Neanderthal at heart.

Blade: No Holmes, as your most recent actions have shown, that’s a vacancy best suited for you.

A cocky smirk Holmes was wearing is sunk and it seems to emerge on Blade’s face as Ty slithers a dark, brooding smile. His chuckle is dominant over even the finest of Mozart. Both of his fellow attendees look directly at him. Burna begins to speak, and both shall listen.

Burna: You two are rather entertaining to keep around. We should certainly do this sort of thing more often. Regardless though, I believe Blade has a point Holmes. We’re here to talk about the Lethal Lottery, not listen to some fine Austrian orchestral music. The floor is yours sir.

Holmes clears his throat as he prepares himself to speak.

Holmes: Very well. As we are aware, the Lethal Lottery match has been expanded to 30 men. This is in part to make sure that Ty is unsuccessful in achieving his goal of headlining Kingdom Come. Vance Bateman is hell-bent on stopping this before it could become a reality. However, what he did not necessarily count on is an alliance between the three of us and our associated forces. Together we were strong, untied we prevailed and were capable of annihilating all who stood in our path. This is the course of action we need to take as we bulldoze our way to the heights of victory.

What I’m proposing is an alliance throughout the Lottery. If our armies are at full strength, then we’ll have a third of the Lottery at our disposal. We’ll be able to dominate from end-to-end. Regardless of placing, we’ll destroy all who move in our path. It will be a plethora of different styles and talents. We and our subordinates will obliterate everything that moves. Whether it’s #1 or #30, we will own them in mind, body and spirit. Then there will be only three and we can truly settle who deserves to rise to the top.

There is a pause as everyone takes in what Holmes has just said, realising this would mean an alliance that is slightly unstable, but primarily successful. Blade is the first to end the wait.

Blade: So you want us to combine our forces to whittle us down to just three for us to fight for pure dominance?

Holmes: Yes.

Blade: I don’t buy it.

Holmes: Oh, and why not?

Blade: Contrary to what you might believe, I’ve been watching you Holmes. You’ve been saying things like this for a good six months or so now. How did that mutual benefactor situation work out for Constantine? He’s sitting in the doldrums, stuck in your shadow as you rise with his help. He’s looking for an out for sure. I know he is. Nobody wants to be stuck beneath your thumb, even a man like him.

Holmes: How dare you! Constantine is a valued comrade and someone I value as an equal. I have cherished every moment of my alliance with him. I have recognised him as one of the modern greats. I even thanked him personally as to holding the key to my victory at All or Nothing.

Blade: Did you really though Holmes? You were snide and unappreciative as always. I have protégés, what you have is a domination of another. Sooner or later he’ll lash out. It’s unhealthy.

Holmes: These accusations are petty and wild. I came here to suggest we collaborate and you are doing nothing but trying to provoke me. If you wish to fail in your bid for “destiny”, then please feel free to continue. Once I throw you out of the Lottery, you can curse you’re lucky stars again you barbarian.

While the pair argues, the third man sat in the room, Ty Burna has sat the entire way through, silent, waiting for his turn. He is pleased with the lack of order and relishes in the chaos created. He however would like to win the Lethal Lottery more than be entertained for this brief period of time and as such, will require both men’s attention.

Burna: As much as I am delighting in your lack of control gentlemen, I think we need to end these petty squabbles. Let us face facts. We will no doubt turn on each other at some course of the Lottery, but for the duration of at least the earlier stages, we should be able to hold an alliance of sorts together. This will ensure that at the very least, one of us reaches the final stages. Are we in agreement?

With both Holmes and Blade stood up already, they relax their bodies from the far more aggressive form they were previously in. Holmes returns to his seat, relieved at the situation being defused. Blade is used to this form of anarchy and remains stood.

Blade: Fine. We’ll remain together until the time is right. Then I’ll eliminate you both personally. Are we clear?

Holmes: Crystal.

Burna: Indeed.

Blade: Excellent, if you don’t mind then, I want to take my leave. It was lovely meeting you two “gentlemen”.

Blade exits in the same manner he entered, through the door with a crash and a bang. Holmes has folded his arms up child like, defiant at Blade’s arrogance. His head is turned away from both Blade and Ty.

Holmes: Petulant fool.

As Holmes looks to return his head to the centre where it belongs, Ty swiftly positions his own face within a few inches of Holmes’, a deeply maniacal and just plain evil look crossing it.

Burna: Listen to me carefully you sycophant. I will not rest until I have what is rightfully mine; the WZCW World Heavyweight Championship. This means that when the opportunity materialises, I will snap my fingers and have one of those who dwell beneath me throw your rotting carcass out of the ring. I will not stop until I have what by all rights belongs to me, and don’t think for one second that this buddy routine has distracted me from the fact that you have felt the need to trash talk me at every turn since you separated yourself from Kurtsey. I will have a measure of revenge, but the alliance you’ve proposed is mutually beneficial. I will let it run it’s course, but once it has, I will wield the axe that behead you and crushes your dreams. Do you understand?

Holmes’s face should be stricken with terror. It should be laced with fear. It is not. Instead it only has a simple as can be smile.

Holmes: Understand? Of course I do, because I’d expect no less of you. I am just as much a bloodthirsty maniac as you Tyrone, don’t doubt that for one second. I will not hesitate to toss you out of the ring just you would not. Our alliance will crumble at Lethal Lottery, and I’ll enjoy it far more than the actual alliance itself.

With both men locked in what appears to be a staring contest, Ty Burna cracks a little smile, acknowledging that he understands what Holmes is saying and expresses a mutual feeling also too perhaps. He moves away from Holmes’ face, backing away from his personal space.

Burna: Until the Lottery then Holmes.

Burna extends his hand, which Holmes gladly accepts.

Holmes: Until then Tyrone.

There is an incredibly tense moment as these two dark, malevolent men shake. It would come as no surprise if civilisations were to fall at this site, if babies were to die and if lives were to be ruined forever. After a brief period of shaking, Burna takes his hand away, leaving through the same entrance as Blade, only with much more elegance. This leaves Holmes, alone. The lone one feels something rumbling deep within him. This turns slowly, but surely into a full on belly-laugh. The orchestra concludes its rendition of Requiem just in time to hear this, startling many of them. He shakes his head and continues to laugh sinisterly as he exits through the same door as his fellow “dons”, bringing our story to its close.

 

[Miko]

Inside the crate darkness looms close, suffocating. Confined in its haulage box S.H.I.T awaits the Lethal Lottery, it is the night of the Lottery and the show is soon to be underway.

Order and Chaos, two forces locked in an eternal struggle for dominance.

Both sides constantly recruiting new soldiers. . . Sometimes from the unlikeliest of places.

The Machine does the bidding of Chaos, a Weapon that could have been used by either side. Good or Evil.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

There is no Good or Evil, only sides to be taken, soldiers and weapons. A Weapon only destroys because of the commands of those who wield it.

The crate rocks slightly.

The forces of Order would believe themselves to be Good and Holy. They would forget the numerous atrocities throughout history caused by those who would believe themselves to be these things, those who would believe themselves to be creating Order. A Machine however is comparable to an Elephant, once it stores information, unless it is wiped by a third party or a virus, it never forgets.

In Chaos the strongest thrive, but the rules are clear, fight or die!

In the World of Order there are no such rules, the cruel pray on the weak, the manipulative trick the majority and corruption thrives. Those that get ahead only have themselves in mind, all others are helpless to watch as cruel men do cruel deeds.

From outside a figure starts to approach the crate, he stands and watches it for a while, curious that it is rocking back and forth and muttering to itself.



The very latest in Modern Technology!

Against the very best in Humanities Warriors!

A slight twitch from the machine, the crate quivers ever so slightly.

S.H.I.T’s purpose would almost certainly be to ensure that Ty Burna wins the Lethal Lottery.

Another twitch.

The wielder Alhazred has said no such thing however. Alhazred has only used the Weapon for few specific tasks, the act of destroying the young Ricky Runn, the act of removing the malicious Jack O’Lantern from WZCW altogether, and those. . . . . those other things he seems to enjoy. . .

S.H.I.T twitches a third time, possibly a sign of revulsion.

The weapons task is to ensure the leader of Chaos Ty Burna obtains his rightful place in the Main Event of Kingdom Come! This is what Alhazred would command.

A very long pause.

Illogical! S.H.I.T’s character analysis of Alhazred shows only arrogance and greed, Alhazred would want the Lethal Lottery and resulting prize for himself. S.H.I.T is in the service of Alhazred.

The robot shifts position, but this only results in it banging its head on the side of its crate.

Although Alhazred has placed S.H.I.T in the service of Chaos. . .

A knock from outside, what sounds like a man clears his throat.

“Excuse me.”

You are excused!

“It is almost time for the PPV, if you would get ready?”

Stand back Human!

S.H.I.T kicks the front of its box down, it lands on the ground with a huge crash. The robot walks steadily out of its usual habitat, sparing a passing analysis of the man who had disturbed it, he shies away from the machines gaze.

Alhazred has not commanded S.H.I.T to help him win. . .

It raises its hands up to eye level, recalling the damage they had caused only recently.

S.H.I.T is a Weapon used by the forces of Chaos, S.H.I.T’s number 1 purpose is to cause physical destruction in the name of Chaos.

The robot tilts its head to the side.

S.H.I.T could achieve its goal of physical destruction with greater ease if it were at the top of the tree of Order, to use one of the many human metaphors.

It untilts it's head.

The worthless human challengers would be lining up to be savaged. That Great Golden Belt, that Golden Ornamentation would be a prize that the most skilled of the organic scum would seek to gain, only to be continuously knocked back by the superior fighting abilities of the Machine.

S.H.I.T’s eyes seem to gleam as it surveys the area around it, looking down the busy corridors, its hands still up in front of its face.

The Weapons purpose has been made clear, it is to cause destruction in the name of Chaos, this would be the most efficient way to achieve this purpose. The Humans from the Apostles will know this to be fact, as they serve the same purpose. Humans however cannot always be relied upon to reach the correct decisions by themselves, sometimes it takes a mind of pure calculation to reach the correct conclusion, this is why Humans created Machines.

Humans are also weak, even the ones pledged to the Apostle’s, they are selfish, they will all fall to their own desires. The Machine however will continuously strive for the purpose it has been put to.

S.H.I.T’s eyes burn a blood red colour, the poor soul who had roused it backs away.

The other Humans are as Locusts! Consume, until everything is stripped bare for their own organic, selfish needs. The Weapon will enter into their swarms, it will play by their rules, it will eliminate all that stand in its way, it will be the last anatomical creature standing in the ring in the Lethal Lottery Match, it will make its way to the greatest of the Human Wrestling Events; Kingdom Come!

S.H.I.T lowers its arms.

There it will physically destroy the finest of the organic Champions in single combat, in front of all the Human admirers, their greatest Warrior will fall to the Superior abilities of the Weapon. This is the best outcome possible, the other Apostles Of Chaos will know this to be true, they will see the logic obvious only to the purely cold and calculated mechanical mind of a Machine.

Then the reign of Destruction will begin, the Human’s will line up to be destroyed until all are spent and only S.H.I.T and the loyal Apostle’s survive. Soon after the other Apostles will crumble to their own fleshy, selfish desires and shall too be destroyed. This will be the final victory that Chaos does require. The only true and pure soldier left in its ranks will stand victorious.

The first goal must be completed, the Lethal Lottery must be won, in the name of Chaos, in the name of Destruction, in the name of The Weapon.

All those that oppose will be crushed like the pathetic organic matter they are composed of, the superiority of Machines will be made prevalent on this night.

S.H.I.T turns to face the mortal meat bag that had disturbed it, leans over until their heads are almost touching and seems to speak.

Return here when it is almost time for that number in the Lethal Lottery, inform S.H.I.T of this development and then leave Human.

The man can only manage a nod. The nod seemingly good enough for S.H.I.T it reverses itself back into its crate and puts the front back on itself. The poor bystander watches as The Machines box goes on rocking back and forth while seemingly muttering to itself.

After a short observation he leaves, only to return at the required time.

 

[a0161613]

The Ratings Winner is framed against a plain, black background. The WZCW logo is above his right shoulder and his Tag Team Championship rests on the same side. Austin is rocking a navy blue pinstripe suit and he seems calm, composed and focussed as he is already in the middle of this interview.

Austin“I heard a great saying once - All men dream equally but great dreams begin with a great dreamer”

He says this with a real twinkle in his eye, a spark that could be mistaken for ambition, hope or optimism.

Copeland “What does that mean to you Austin?”

We see Sebastian Copeland. Copeland is known as Seabass to his broadcast colleague Jack Cohen, a playful backstage joke between two long time friends. Copeland is WZCW’s longest tenured employee and the voice of Meltdown and the respect that he commands is immense. There is no coincidence that Austin specifically requested that this tell-all interview be conducted by the man known as Seabass.

Copeland as always demands authority but he is able to convey passion and admiration. That soft tone is present here as he looks to coax a great story from Austin.

Austin “That’s what this time of year is all about right? This is the road to Kingdom Come; it’s where the cream has to rise to the top. This is where all dreams have the chance to become reality. And after the up and downs of the year just gone, my dreams are brighter than anyone’s. Kingdom Come III was a taster that I have obsessed about surpassing.”

Copeland nods. He sees that Austin is bursting with ambition in every word.

Copeland “You put the feud with Constantine to bed in pretty emphatic fashion.”

Austin “And going onto the main event was the natural step, right? I had major history with Showtime that is unresolved even to this day and when I faced off against Ty on the first round of shows after Kingdom Come, it was a recipe for success. Putting the three of us together and the company knew we would tear the house down. That one match was the best performance of our careers and it is one of the best matches in WZCW history.”

Austin’s enthusiasm is unmatched and never more so than now. He has talked regularly about how good his main event run was for him and the passion is clear every single time.

Austin “Right then I thought that it should have gone my way. And I thought a rematch would be where I fulfilled my dream of becoming World Champion but Ty’s mind games had started and I fell for it perfectly. I went to Apocalypse with less than a wing and a prayer and although I ran Ty closer than anyone else had ever done, the discontent had already started. I was the Ratings Winner and I was succeeding at the job that I was asked to do but backstage, people wanted to throw me through a window. Apparently the spot I had was better deserved elsewhere even though no-one else was showing any of the motivation that I had.”

Copeland “You weren’t happy, despite main evening two successive shows?”

Austin’s nostrils flare as he exhales and he considers this very simple question carefully.

Austin “I knew Redemption had been good to me, but people were disappointed that I had a rematch. I was happy but there was real discontent. Despite that, I was determined to help the roster. I put Barbosa over on Ascension 33 and I’m glad I did because the guy is the future of the company, unique, unorthodox but I’m such a fan. Everest was supposed to get the same treatment but that was my worst moment in WZCW as I could barely get a semi-watchable match from him. He gave nothing back and I carried him, it had to be a no contest because it was so bad. It was a real shame because he was this hyped legend and I thought he would appreciate someone who was willing to go out and have a great match but he let us down and he let himself down. It’s not a surprise that he has failed to even get a guaranteed spot on pay-per-view now.”

Austin “And before Apocalypse I was supposed to face Kravinoff, again to help his momentum and boost the storyline with Ty. It was supposed to be the Barbosa treatment rather than a repeat of the Everest debacle but he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. It was a shame he wouldn’t stick around because he was another who was going to benefit from the star making treatment that we have provide so often.”

Copeland nods and smiles subtly, a sign that he truly is great at his job as he is very aware that this is Austin’s time.

Copeland “The Apocalypse match was great but your build to it was less than ideal.”

They share a laugh. Less than ideal was a polite way of putting it and they both know it.

Austin “Of course, he had to make a big old fuss about his departure and it completely overshadowed my match with Ty. A match which was an all out war, a bona fide classic. He kicked out of my moves, I kicked out of all of his, which had never been done before and still hasn’t. I did the impossible; nobody had run Ty Burna so close in a No DQ environment and we had surpassed the Redemption match in emphatic style.”

Austin pauses. He rolls his tongue along his bottom lip and rubs his chin in the crook of his hand.

Austin “But if you look back and talk about that time in the summer, no one will talk about that because of the Kravinoff debacle.”

Like an expert, Copeland spots how rueful Austin seems, almost verging on bitter. So he goes on a different tack with his next question.

Copeland “And then you found yourself in a team with Ricky amid a mini tag team revival.”

Austin “Indeed, we have amazing chemistry, put on some truly underrated matches and helped create some new talent. It’s been fun and I hope it can continue. He picked me up when I was at my lowest and I deserve to put him in good stead whenever we are done.”

Copeland “Do you prefer tag team matches?”

Austin answers the first question quickly but Copeland catches him off guard. It’s a great question, simple but direct and Austin silently acknowledges it as he has to consider his answer.

Austin “No. But I don’t hate them like I used to. So I thank Ricky every time I see him for that.”

Eighteen months ago, Austin would have given a different answer and they both know it.

Copeland “So why form the tag team?”

Austin grins again. It was a more than fair question and Austin has never truly answered it

Austin “I had to get out of the main event spotlight. There were ructions and I made the decision to step back and it has helped the company in the long run. We had a bundle of new talent coming in, Ricky Runn was the best of a very good bunch and working with him has been a genuine career highlight.”

Copeland “But you are looking to go back into the singles picture.”

That was a leading question but Seabass Copeland was always well prepped. It was a question that truly show whether Austin would be a competitor in the Lethal Lottery match.

Austin “Well I want to win the Lethal Lottery.”

Well that answered that.

Austin “And as much as I would like it, I can’t share that with Ricky. Now if it doesn’t go to plan at the pay-per-view, then I’ll go and defend the belts at Kingdom Come. No questions asked, I’ll do it in a second. But I need to test myself on this stage. Ricky understands. He knows we can’t go on forever and we have to enjoy it while it lasts.”

Now we see it, a flicker of the adamant nature that had backed him so well when Austin was in the main event. The same nature helped make Runn Reynolds Runn the great team that they are now.

Austin “I’m not planning to make up the numbers, like some of the guys on the roster. I’m better than that. The same can’t be said for some of the other guys in the match and I know I’m going to have to wade through same crap before I get to the substance. I’m probably not coming at twenty nine with only seven people left in the match. But there is going to be a lot of crap with thirty people in the match. I expect that I am going to see many familiar faces who would all love to put themselves over at my expense.”

Copeland “Not least among your opponents are Ty Burna and his Apostles of Chaos.”

Austin sneers at the bare mention of Ty’s name.

Austin “Well while we are talking about crap, let’s talk about the luckiest souls in this match. They haven’t achieved anything and are riding on the auspicious coattails of “Chaos” just to get close to this match. But only one of them will be allowed to win this match. They are in it for Ty. Plain and simple but rightly so, Ty is head and shoulders above most of everyone else in the match. He is a favourite and not only because he is trying to propel himself back into another pay-per-view main event. And I hate that he is the main focus going into this match!”

Austin hesitates to regain a little composure as his anger boils over into his words.

Austin “I’m not going to allow Chaos to be the deciding factor in this match. There are better people involved, hell who would be surprised if the current Elite X or Eurasian champions were left at the end?”

Reynolds shuffles in his seat and clamps his hands together across his lap.

Copeland “Or Showtime? Titus maybe?”

Austin “Two names who know how to get it done, right? They deserve to get in based purely on the fact that they have won it before?”

Copeland “Exactly.”

Austin smirks. Sarcasm creeps through. Copeland looks at him earnestly.

Austin “Yeah, right. Though Showtime is a good shout I guess, I’d love to get another chance to face off with him and he wants to make up for his failure of last year. Though I’m not sure Titus will get close as he’s not booking the show any more.”

Austin winks, smiles and points at Copeland with a gun shaped motion.

Austin “Mr Baller will be a bigger threat and I plan on dumping him out last of all.”

Copeland “The Sons of Destiny will be a thorn in your side regardless of the result earlier in the night.”

Austin “I should be clear; the Sons will not be a problem. Blade by himself doesn’t concern me. Blade with his bitches should pose a threat to anyone, under the umbrella of Chaos or not. When they get separated, which is inevitable, they will be dumped out. Maybe Blade will realise what it takes to main event a pay-per-view when ”

Austin’s arrogant streak, the very trait that had served him so well in the past seeps through clearly here. It had been a fair while since it had been seen but it had been present and correct during his entire Elite X title run, the most successful period of his career.

Austin “I don’t see anyone who can bring to the table what I can. I know if this Lottery was determined by popularity, then I would sweep it. If it was based on charisma and skill, I’d clear the ring in a heartbeat. But the winner of the Lethal Lottery will deserve it based on their effort in the ring and how much luck they have on the night and I’m ready to do whatever I need to because I deserve it. I need it.”

Austin “So this is the year that the Ratings Winner takes back the main event spot that I never should have lost. I’ve been here while the standards have skyrocketed and I used to be considered the standard-bearer. I have to show that the company and my career with it are not passing me by. The Ratings Winner is going to win the Lethal Lottery because winning that match and claiming the World Heavyweight Championship at Kingdom Come IV are the only things that The Ratings Winner has left to achieve.”

Copeland nods admirably at Austin’s feisty approach to the upcoming event.

Copeland “You’ve mentioned retirement recently.”

Austin leans forward. Such was his well-known dislike for interviews that this was the first question about it that Austin had faced. With Klamor or Leon asking this question, Austin may have brushed them away with an off-the-cuff remark to avoid having to give an answer but there was something about Copeland that makes Austin think twice about doing that. After all, this was supposed to be the tell-all piece that set a lot of things to rest.

Austin “Yes, it’s nearly time to call it a day. Our roster is so thick with talent that I don’t think I will be missed.”

Copeland looks perplexed and hesitates. Such a short answer seemed pre-prepared and it caught him slightly on the hop.

Copeland “Is this a bluff Austin? Do you really see Kingdom Come IV as the end for The Ratings Winner?”

Austin smiles, his cheeks rise and he nods slowly.

Austin “I’m not trying to fool anyone. I’ve been around long enough to know that if I stuck around, dragged my broken ass around and took up a spot, that it wouldn’t be good for ratings. Kingdom Come will be my swansong. But I need to go out on top Seabass. I need to see what I have left. The Lethal Lottery is going to determine my final impact and what I will truly be remembered for. I can’t think of a better way to end this great career of mine with what will be my finest hour – a lesson in how to win on the grandest stage of them all”

He raises his hands away from their tightly clasped position on his stomach and lifts them to the side in a light-hearted gesture.

Austin “I’m the great dreamer after all.”

That familiar million dollar smile is a suitable way to close the interview as the camera fades. We can barely see Sebastian Copeland move forward and embrace Austin with a warm handshake.

 

[ABMorales787]

Anderson: The following contest is scheduled for one fall and is your main event match!



The crowd cheers as Matt Tastic walks out to the entrance ramp. He walks back and forth between the sides of the stage before stopping in the middle of the entrance ramp. He walks down towards the ring and rolls in before climbing to the middle rope and stares out to the crowd.

Anderson: Introducing first, weighing in at 225lbs, from Southwestern Puerto Rico, Matt Tastic!

As the events of the Aftershock feature match take place, backstage other matters take place. At the GM offices, Alisha finds herself with Vance Bateman and Chuck Myles having a heavy discussion about the happenings of that week as AfterShock airs via a TV in the room.

Alisha: You two are not fit to run this place alone!

Chuck: I don't run this place anymore, girl.

Alisha: I don't care! Look at this! There's no control at all! About 4 backstage attacks in one single show! About two more followed at Ascesion. I can only assume there hasn't been one tonight because everyone's exhausted at this point. You are becoming careless and reckless, both of you.

Vance: Reckless? How so?

Alisha: How so? How so? 30? 30 men now in the Lethal Lottery?

Chuck: Well, actually it's 29 men and one woman but...

Alisha: Shut up!!

Vance: Don't provoke her, Chuck.

Alisha paces the room in clear frustration for the current situation on WZCW. Vance and Chuck don't know how to respond to her claim knowing that she has a good amount of reason.

Alisha: I mean, you go from announcing 25 participants to changing the rules and totalling it to 30 in just a few weeks? Who approved this? Where's the board of directors? Isn't there anybody moderating any of this over than Ty Burna?

Vance: Well no. He's the one who makes the rules now. We had to follow them by force.

Alisha: That's outrageous! Even he can't get away making such executive decisions. Even so, that doesn't excuse the poor control of talent around here. The Son's have no business with Ty. These attacks have gotten too out of hand. Gordito may be wrestling a concussion on Sunday and so might be Celeste. Maybe even more. But you guys don't care. At all.

Chuck: Why are you worried about Gordito?

Vance: Oh Chuck...

Alisha: Someone has to. You guys certainly don't. You do realize the position you put Matt in don't you? All these new entrants but he's still gotta start from #1. But you clearly don't care about that since no one has bothered pointing out how far back he is now thanks to your incompetence. Another rousing young star faces massive danger thanks to your carelessness. You'd better hope nothing goes wrong at the Lottery.

As Alisha continues her tirade, something interesting grabs everyone's attention.

Baller moves his stricken foe closer to the corner as he lines himself up for the Buzzerbeater. He motions to the crowd who boo at his taunting. He goes up for the Buzzerbeater but Tastic moves! As Baller holds his stomach in pain, Tastic scrambles towards him, gets his arm and locks in the Cross Buster! Baller manages to sustain the pain for a couple of seconds before Tastic wrenches back even harder, leaving his opponent no choice but to submit.

Tastic keeps it locked in for a second before finally letting go. Ballers rolls out of the ring as the referee raises Tastic’s hand and the fans cheers

Anderson: Here is your winner via submission; MATT TASTIC!

Serra: Tastic managed to survive here tonight against Baller, just what he’ll need to do next week when he enters at number one in the 2012 Lethal Lottery!

Vance: Would you look at that. Matt won.

Chuck: See, the man can take care of himself.

However...

Baller is up to his feet already although his arm is hurt and hangs to one side. He sees Mat celebrating his win on the middle rope and an angry scowl crosses his face. He runs towards the ropes and bundles Tastic over the ropes to the floor. He begins pointing to himself and declares the one to win the Lottery from number thirty. Suddenly Brad Bomb appears from behind Baller and locks in the De-Activated! Baller struggles and flails about and before he can get rid of Baller, Justin Cooper hits Brad Bomb with a running axe handle.

Serra: "We are getting a taster of the Chaos that is coming at the Lottery!"

Klamor: "And our divine leader Ty Burna isn't even in the building. This is brilliant! Let's go Baller, clear the ring!"

Vance: What?

Chuck: You're kidding me!

Alisha: ................

Bomb releases the hold and just as more members of the roster arrive, Cooper just chucks him over the top rope. Jack Skinner and Alexander Steele hit the ring and double team Cooper while Baller is still recovering in the corner. Cooper is draped across the top as Skinner and Steele try and push him over the ropes. Hammond and Overlast appear through the crowd and bundle all three men over the top rope! Skinner and Steele crash to the floor but Cooper just about hangs on! Ricky Runn and Austin Reynolds run down and slide straight into the ring and charge into their future opponents and tackle them through the ropes to the ringside floor! Baller begins to get to his feet and Cooper rolls into the ring slowly but before they can face off, Phoenix runs down to the ring and is followed by Triple X. They face off against Cooper and Baller respectively and both men are being pounded by their fresh foes. A flood of referees rush down to clear the Sons of Destiny and Runn Reynolds Runn from ringside as well as various members of the roster. The four men in the ring are preoccupied and tangled up in the ropes.

Klamor: "What are all these runts doing here! This is plain carnage!"

Serra: "I would say we need to establish some order but why bother!"

Alisha: Yeah. Why bother? Way to go fella's. Even the smaller guys get out of hand now.

Vance: I think Matt slipped out of there after Baller threw him out.

Chuck: Yeah, I don't see him anywhere.

Phoenix breaks free, reverses a Remix attempt and drops Cooper with the Incinerator and climbs to the top rope but as he prepares to hit the Final Flight, Triple X whips Baller into the ropes and that crotches Phoenix! Cooper gets to his feet and pushes Phoenix off the ropes and he falls onto a pair of refs at ringside! Triple X tries to take Baller out but Baller is able to back body drop him over the ropes, he barely manages to hang on! Cooper whips Baller but Baller reverses it. He ducks Cooper as he comes back and Triple X lowers the ropes and Cooper falls out of the ring but ends up taking Triple X to the floor with him! Baller is the last man standing in the ring and although it takes time for him to realise, the crowd soon lets him know their thoughts on the matter.

Serra: "This may be quite symbolic!"

Klamor: "Yes Yes Yes Becky. This is a sign! Mr Baller is going to win the Lethal Lottery. This is his time!!"

Serra: "Will this be the sight at the end of the Lethal Lottery. Mr Baller is standing at Aftershock, will he be able to achieve the same at the end of the Lethal Lottery?! I can't wait to see the answer! We'll see you at the pay-per-view!"

Baller stands on the turnbuckle and raises his arms and he points to the large Kingdom Come IV sign that looms large in the background!




And now, the official song for the Lethal Lottery pay-per-view...

Alisha: That's IT!! I want out! I can't believe how out of control this place has gotten! I don't want Matt competing from #1. Hell, I don't want him competing at all! What kind of place are you running here? An asylum? People get hurt here daily and not a damn thing is done! Unreal. I won't allow this to keep going! I...

*Knock knock* As Alisha rants on, someone knocks at the door. Alisha stops and turns to open the door. Matt Tastic turns out to be the one knocking. He looks tired and beaten but in a fine mood coming off a big win.

Matt: UFFFF.... Whelp... I did it. I won.

Alisha: MATT!!

Alisha jumps on Tastic and hugs him hard and tight as she sighs in relief seeing him perfectly fine.

Matt: What I miss?

Vance: That.

Vance Bateman points to the TV as the major brawl that took place after the match is shown again.

Matt: Sheesh. No wonder so many people rushed past me on my way here. Seriously, what a waste of time and energy by those guys. They're all rookies.

Chuck: Mr. Tastic, your girlfriend has been in here harrasing us during your entire match. She want's you to drop off the Lethal Lottery match.

Matt: What? Why would I do that?

Alisha: Why? Look at that! Total mayhem. There's nothing but lunacy day in and day out now. You can't go a day without some sort of beatdown taking place. Poor Celeste is injured. So is Gordito. You could've gotten hurt in that wild brawl too. This place has fallen out of control. It's not worth it!

Matt: Not worth it? Not worth it, Alisha? Headlining the biggest Pay-Per-View of the year isn't worth it? A chance to become World Heavyweight Champion isn't worth it? A chance to stand if front of thousands and thousands of fans and make them happy isn't worth it. Alisha? Even if it's a slight chance, just the slightest, I'm willing to take it. I can't back down. I couldn't live with myself if I just gave up. I mean, what if I win? That would give me leverage. I'd be like a small light of hope to help everyone see that in all this madness, someone can push ahead.

Chuck: Ugh... This goody-goody act of yours is making me sick. Steven Kurtesy is the World Champion and he gets beaten down. What good would you do?

Matt: What position I hold isn't what's important, Chuckie. It's how I got there that counts. Whoever wins this match will have gone by a large number of opponents to get there. If I were to win, I would've beaten all of them instead of just a few. That can speak volumes in just one action.

Chuck: Or you could get your ass kicked by one of our lovely factions here. You even have a few to choose from.

Matt: Whatever, Chuck. I don't need your negativity. I'm dead-set on winning.

Vance: We all know you can at the least go far in the match and walk out in one piece, it's your girlfriend who doesn't seem to get it.

Alisha: Matt please, I care too much...

Matt: Shush, girl. It's a Gauntlet match with a lot of people. Not a "Shoot to Death" match. The worse that could happen is tweaking your knee when falling off. But that won't obviously happen if you never get thrown out.

Chuck: You're delusional.

Matt: No, I'm optistic errand boy.

Vance and Alisha laugh loudly as Chuck gets mad at the joke.

Chuck: What the hell did you call me?! You little whelp!

Matt: You trust me now, girl?

Alisha seems very reluctant, but eventually comes by and embraces Matt.

Alisha: *Sigh* ...yeah... I guess I have no choice. I'll play along. But... You have to do one favor for me.

Matt: What's that?

Alisha: A therapy session with Dr. Alexanders.

Matt: Who's he?

Vance: A phyquiatist. Alisha told me about your odd sleeping patterns and how you've been dazing off at times in a cold sweat. At the least, you should get yourself checked out before you go out on your spokeperson flights next week.

Matt: Alright then. I'll do it. Anything to get you people to have some faith in me.

===========================================================================================

?: You may have won one match, but that does not mean you can actually win the Lottery.

The screen fades as a familiar voice is heard in absolute darkness.

Matt: And negativity rears it's ugly head again.

?: Negativity? I consider myself more like the common sense in you.

Matt: Common sense would know when to be happy.

?: Why be happy when you know failure is knocking at your doorstep? Aftershock wasn't your first match won. And the Lottery won't be your next one. Give up now and save yourself the embarassment.

Matt: You'd love that, wouldn't you?

?: No. I say things for your own protection. Not for my enjoyment. I'm you after all.

Matt: Yeah... But what part of me are you, exactly?

Before Matt can get any kind of answer he wakes up. Laying at a waiting room in an office, it seems Matt dozed off waiting for the doctor he was assigned to call him in.

Dr.: Mr. Tastic, you may come in now.

Matt get's up and heads towards the doctors room. Inside is a nice room that resembles a study of sorts. Full of books, a nice glass window with a view to a city, the doctors chair and of course the lounge where Matt has to sit.

Dr.: So tell me, Matt. What troubles you? I hear you have issues in your sleep.

Matt: I don't know. There's this voice I keep arguing with.

Dr.: A voice? What kind of voice?

Matt: A voice like mine, only deeper, more serious maybe a bit violent.

Dr.: What do you argue about?

Matt: I don't know. He undermines everything I do. Always negative whenever I'm positive.

Dr.: Interesting. Care to go into detail about these conversations?

Matt: I don't get it. I get a promotion, the voice says I'll mess it up. I win a match, the voice says I'll lose the next one. It says it's common sense.

Dr.: We're getting somewhere with this. When did this voice first start?

Matt: Some time after I unmasked. In the ring, I used to wear a mask but gave it to another wrestler as a sign of thanks for something he did.

Dr.: What did this wrestler do?

Matt: He beat me for my contract, but instead of taking advantage of that after months of me attacking him, he just let me go. So I gave him something I could part with as thanks.

Dr.: How did you feel about unmasking?

Matt: Good. I... I felt like I did the right thing in accepting the loss. I felt a sigh of relief, Everyone kept comparing me to him and saying I was inferior because of the mask and before that, I was jealous about a friend who became more successful than me.

Dr.: And taking the mask off was like giving you the chance to start over?

Matt: Yeah, The fan's cheered in approval and I felt a sense of enjoyment of what I was doing. But now that voice keeps ruining whatever good moment I have in my sleep.

Dr.: Are there any other things you regret in your life?

Matt: I don't know. I guess I regret leaving home just because I didn't like it. It's not like I was mistreated, I just plain ol' didn't like it. I had a family and a home and I just threw it all away over some lousy ambitions they didn't approve of.

Dr.: And what were those "lousy" ambitions?

Matt: Becoming a World Champion.

The doctor stands up and puts his arms behind his back and pases across the room. Matt's saddened face is an unexpected sight after all the talk about he gave about winning, but the doctor seems certain of what the problem is.

Dr.: This voice you hear isn't common sense. It's not negativity. It's the voice of you regretting past actions. This voice of yours calls out so you won't fall for the same mistakes again. You are unsure of yourself. And even though you hide those feelings from other people, you can't hide them from yourself. You are tricking yourself into thinking things are alright in your mind. But they are not. You have many fears, but hide them out of the fear of failing. The more you lose, the more you believe you were wrong to leave your home and start wrestling. The more you believe you tossed your life away and that your new one is not worth it.

Matt: How can I overcome that, doc?

Dr.: Release it. Find closure. You decide if what you did was right or not. You decide if your losses are signs of failure or just a simple detour on your road to success.

Matt: So... I need to win?

Dr.: It's not a matter of winning or losing. It's a matter of coming in terms with that win or loss. If you win, you shouldn't believe you are closer to winning this World Championship you seek or accomplishing any of the goals you desire. And if you lose, you shouldn't believe you are farther from them. Always keep your mind on the goals you desire, and stop looking into your past. Your goals are not there. They are in the future. And you write that future. Only when you realize that every detail doesn't have to count, that every win or loss hold some influence on you, can this voice finally stop. Because you'll reach a point where you truly have no regret for your losses. Now go get ready. I bet 100 bucks on you holding out until the last entrant goes in.

Matt: Right then. Win or lose, what matters is me reaching my true goal. But if winning the World Heavyweight Championship is my goal? How could I do it if I were to lose at the Lottery? Guess I'll just have to go with the flow and find out. Guess I'm outta here, doc. I've got a tough road ahead of me. And I'd like to walk that road for as long as I can.

================================================================================================

Backstage at the location of this year's Lethal Lottery event, Matt Tastic finds himself with his battle gear on and ready for his major battle. He stands next to Becky Serra ready for the interview he'd promised her some time ago.

Becky: Well, Matt. Here we are. Are you ready?

Matt: Hell yeah, Becky. I'm ready to dish out a lot of Kickassery. And there's a lot of people to Deliver it to.

Becky: Last time we spoke, you told me you didn't know what your plan of action in the match would be. Do you have one now?

Matt: No. I don't have one at all.

Becky: But you always seem so certain going into these big matches. How could you not have a plan?

Matt: I am certain, Becky. I'm certain that no matter what, the future will hold something good for me. Worrying about it will just give me stress.

Becky: But all these groups and now 30 participants... How...?

Matt: Becky. It's still one person at a time. It's still every man for himself. It's still one guy that can win. And it's still as easy as tiping someone over. When you fish, the fish comes to you. You don't go to it. Just like the future. You can't go to it because you can't see it. You need to wait for it to come to you.

Becky: Well, I hope your future is a good one.

Matt: It will be as long as I don't stress about it. But for now, I've got to go. The future may be uncertain, but my gut knows when I need to head off to a restroom. Bye!

Becky: Alright then, good luck!

Matt heads off to the restroom as the time for the major match draws closer. Only time will tell what Matt's and everybody else's future holds...

 

[Blade]

Rebecca Serra heads towards the Sons of Destiny’s locker room to interview Blade, one of the favourites for the Lethal Lottery match. All the wrestlers are currently in the middle of a house show down the road from where the Lethal Lottery Pay per View is being held. She reaches the locker room to find Scott Hammond standing outside the door looking grim.

What’s up? Can I go in to interview Blade?

I don’t think that’s such a good idea.

Why not?

With every day that the Lethal Lottery nears, Blade is becoming more and more… Unstable. Outbursts and mood swings… It’s not like him at all. He just blew up on me when I asked him about strategy for the match.

Rebecca looks slightly concerned as she watches Hammond run his hands through his hair and sigh.

Most of the time, I see Blade’s belief in his destiny as a good thing. It makes him never lose motivation, believing it’s only a matter of time before that world title is around his waist. But this time, it’s different. He sees the Lethal Lottery as his be all, end all. He even mentioned retiring if he doesn’t win… He’s under a lot of pressure to win it.

It’s pressure he put on himself with all his claims that he would win the match!

Hammond nods solemnly.

I know. But it might be best to leave him alone for the time being. Go interview someone else, Becky. It’s not like you have a shortage of participants.

Rebecca looks frustrated, but she abides by Hammond’s request and leaves the area. Hammond puts his hand on the locker room door and lets out a sigh before walking away as well.



Inside the locker room, Blade is standing before a mirror. He is kitted out in his in-ring attire. His eyes are dark and bloodshot and his facial hair is unshaven. Grasping a glass of vodka in one hand and his usual cigarette in the other, he stares himself in the eyes.

Can I do this?

Blade hears the sincere doubt in his own words and shakes his head. For a moment there is silence through the locker room until his conscience replies…

Sure, you can. Whether you do or not is a completely different issue, isn’t it?

Blade is always harsh on himself through his conscience. But himself is the only person he can talk to. He is only person who can be completely honest with himself.

If I don’t pull this off, what do I do? Start all over again? Win King for a Day and become one of those cowards who cashes in on a downed champion? No, I won’t do it.

Well your… Our problem is that we choke on the big stage unless we get the advantage beforehand. Look at last year’s Kingdom Come. You only defeated Chris Beckford after weeks of mental torture. The fact that he was so drained in so many ways was the reason you defeated him.

So I can't beat someone when I don't have a chance to get inside his head?

I'm sorry, but yeah, pretty much. But that’s not a bad thing. You commit yourself to these projects in a long term way, like with the EurAsian title and Chris Beckford. If you’d been given longer to work on Big Dave’s mental state, you would’ve beaten him too.

Blade shakes his head passionately and points at his reflection with his cigarette wielding hand, causing ash to float away around him.

No, that is bullshit. I can beat top guys on big stages! Karnage!

Past his prime.

Titus!

With help from Vengeance.

Rush?

With the help of a fucking heart attack!

I beat Drake Callahan a week ago!

Come on, Drake has been back for less than a month. He’s good, but he’s still working off the ring rust. Come on, I'm only telling you stuff that you already know.

You may be a part of myself, but I know I can beat the top guys. I know I can beat them without luck or help or whatever! I am the very best in this company and I’m going to prove it no matter what you… I… Say!

Relax, I’m not trying to take anything away from our victories. I’m saying that you are at your very best when you take that step into the darker parts of your mind. Remember destroying Beckford’s career? What about Zander’s? When you were doing things like that, you were at your very best. But you’ve abandoned making WZCW a playground for your demented mind for making WZCW a playground for your group.

The Sons are the future!

The Sons are nothing if you don’t get the job done in the Lethal Lottery!

So what are you suggesting?

You have a few days left. That’s a few opportunities to go to that dark side that helps you fulfil your potential.

I’m standing here talking to my myself like I’m Barbosa or something. I’d say that’s pretty dark.

Blade walks over to his couch and slumps down into it. He downs the last of the glass of vodka.

You’re not trying to get that mental advantage over one opponent. You’re trying to get it over 29 other men now. So go out there and do something that will make every person in that match know what you’re capable of. Showtime, Reynolds, The Apostles, everyone. I know we’ll have the Sons helping us in that match. But at the end of it all, this is your match and your time to shine. Go out there. Be the Blade that was the greatest EurAsian champion this company has ever seen. Be the Blade that can turn this whole industry on its head. Be that Blade.

Blade is dismissive as he puts his cigarette out.

That comes naturally through necessity, through adapting to the situation around me. I can’t force it…

Try.

Suddenly there’s a knock at the door and Blade hears a stagehand speaking through the door to him.

Blade, your match is up next. Come to Gorilla position.

He stands up and pulls his trench coat and sunglasses on. The words of his own reflection are still bounding around inside his head; be that Blade.

*********************​

A father is sitting in the crowd with his young son watching the WZCW house show in Kezar Stadium. The man bought the tickets for his son’s birthday and they’re having a great time. The son, wearing his Steven Kurtesy t-shirt, shovels handfuls of popcorn into his mouth as his eyes dart around the ringside area; he doesn’t want to miss anything.

Enjoying yourself?

Between the popcorn and his desire to take it all the in, the son doesn’t say a word, simply nodding. The man smiles and pats his son on the head before turning his attention to the ramp. Some generic metal song hits and an unknown wrestler walks out, looking enthusiastic, slapping the hands of fans has he bounds down to the ring.

Harrys: Introducing first, from right here in San Francisco, David Butler!

The man and his son, as well as the crowd around them, cheer loudly for the local boy, hoping he’ll do well for his trial tonight.

Harrys: And his opponent, from Dublin, Ireland, the Prodigal Son, BLADE!

The father, and his son even more so, boo as Blade walks out onto the ramp. Blade looks somewhat tired and worn out, but focused and ready for the match. He stands at the top of the ramp and performs his signature taunt before heading down to the ring. He slides under the ropes and walks around the ring. The referee calls for the bell and Butler extends his hand. Blade chuckles and slaps the hand away. Butler looks irritated and the two men circle each other before locking up in the centre of the ring. Blade performs a headlock takedown and transitions into a Sleeper Hold. He has it locked in for several seconds before breaking the hold for no apparent reason. He gets up and simply kicks Butler in the back of the head. Butler holds the back of his head on the mat as Blade leans back in the corner, smirking. Butler gets up and charges at Blade, hitting a Double Leg Takedown and unleashing a series of right hands. Blade manages to roll out of the ring to get away, a shocked expression on his face. The man and his son join the rest of the crowd in cheering on the hometown kid as loud as they possibly can. Blade slowly walks up the ring steps and gets in the ring. He then strides over to Butler and hits him with a low blow. The referee calls for the bell as Butler crumbles to the mat. Blade stands over him, shaking his head before rolling out of the ring. He grabs a steel chair and slides back in. Suddenly, he starts hitting Butler with the chair viciously and without remorse. The crowd is booing but they start to fall silent as Blade’s assault continues unrelentlessly. The man covers his son’s eyes, not wanting him to see such harsh violence. The man looks on in horror as Blade puts his young opponent’s head inside the steel chair before climbing up to the second rope. The man jumps out of his seat and grabs his son as he tries to push past the other people in his row.

Daddy, what are you doing!?

We can’t see this.

As they reach the exit, it happens. Some of the crowd groan in disgust, others gasp in shock. The sick crunch from what has happened in the ring echoes around the arena and hits the ears of the father and son. The son tries to turn around to see what happened, but his father doesn’t let him and ushers him out of the exit, getting through a small crowd made up of other people who decided to leave than watch the horror in the ring.

*******************​

Blade is standing in the ring, looking at the damage he’s caused, not quite sure what just happened. The crowd are in a stunned silence and Blade’s head is in a daze. He rolls out of the ring and heads up the ramp, his back turned on the ring as the EMT’s pass him by. He can’t bear to turn around to look at the man whose career he just ended, instead just going straight through the curtain to the backstage area. There are several people in the Gorilla Position, some shocked, some who seem to be genuinely frightened of Blade and a few, primarily other wrestlers, who look angry at Blade. Vance Bateman appears among the small crowd and grabs Blade by the arm.

You’re coming with me to my office right now.

Blade doesn’t put up a fight, letting Bateman drag him towards the office down the hall like a criminal going to his prison cell. They reach the door and Bateman opens it and tells his assistant to get out. He starts pacing behind his desk as Blade walks over to the liquor bottles and starts to pour himself a scotch.

I DID NOT TELL YOU YOU COULD HAVE A DRINK!

Blade places the bottle and glass down and turns away from the bottle towards Bateman, keeping his head down, looking at his shoes.

Sit down!

Blade walks to the seat in front of Bateman’s desk. He keeps his hands on his lap and still keeps his head down.

What the hell do you think you were doing? That kid has his first match with us and you end his career? He did absolutely nothing to you and you had nothing to gain from it! We’re going to have a lawsuit on our hands from that kid’s family! If you weren’t already advertised for the Lethal Lottery match I would suspend you right now. In fact, I might just tell the rest of the boys to eliminate you as soon as possible and suspend you as soon as you come back through the curtain.

Blade shifts in his chair and lets out a bored sigh.

Again I ask, what do you think you were doing?

Blade looks up and stares into Bateman’s smile before his lips spread into a smirk.

It’s that time of the year, boss...

Bateman looks confused but with the anger obviously still bubbling under the surface.

I always get a bit… Temperamental during the road to Kingdom Come. It’s become more of a tradition than the Lethal Lottery match itself.

Blade leans forward and gently puts his hands on the desk.

You see, as good as I’ve been lately... Hell, as good as I always am, I needed a little something extra, a certain je ne sais quoi. Just like last year against Chris Beckford and the year before against Rush. Heading into those matches, I allowed myself to cross lines and destroy barriers. If you recall, I became both your biggest nightmare and your greatest asset within this company just because I didn’t care about what I did. Going to that dark side to have a mental advantage over inferior opponents is my go-to card, you know that. In fact, I’m a little surprised you didn’t see this coming.

I know you’ve done some pretty despicable things in the past, but this is a whole other level. You broke Beckford’s leg, hit the Halo on Zander after he’d been beaten up, had the nerve to pin Rush after a heart attack, had your boys take out Smith. I get over it because they will recover and you will likely pay for what you’ve done to them. But tonight you broke a young man’s neck. It’s just… Sick.

Blade grins.

Well maybe I’m just sick.

Bateman looks disgusted at Blade’s response as he sits down in his chair.

Just give me some kind of reason. There is no way you could think you can psyche out 29 other men at once. Even you’re not that crazy.

Blade leans back in the chair and takes out a cigarette. He lights it up without Bateman saying a word and takes a long deep drag before he begins to talk.

Everything I did leading up to previous Kingdom Come matches and the various matches against major opponents in my career, they were to get an advantage over whoever my opponent is. I’ll do against the lowliest jobber and I would do it against Ty Burna. But tonight wasn’t about any of my opponents in the match, just like Lethal Lottery itself isn’t about any of my opponents. What happened tonight was all because of and for me. I know you so well Mr. Bateman and I knew what your reaction would be if I did something devastating tonight. You would want to suspend me on the spot, but you wouldn’t be able to. I’m already on the card for the Lethal Lottery match and I’m one of the biggest names in that match. Taking me out over something that only people at this show know about would be bad for business and taking me out of a show that I’m advertised for would be illegal.

Blade takes a leisurely drag from his cigarette as Bateman stares daggers at him.

Now, knowing that I am not billed for any matches after the Lethal Lottery, you would likely want to suspend or even fire me as soon as that match is over, perhaps putting a bounty on my head for whoever eliminates me. That leaves me with just one option.

Win the Lethal Lottery…

Bateman sounds exasperated as Blade nods, smirking to himself.

Exactly. So far my plan has gone to perfection because you said word for word what I knew you would. You’re going to suspend me after I’m eliminated from the match. But here’s the real genius in my plan. I’m not going to be eliminated from the match.

This is ridiculous, even for you. You’ve put your whole livelihood into one match? A match with Ty Burna and Showtime and Austin Reynolds and 26 men who will be determined to get that Kingdom Come spot. You’re good Blade, but there is no way you winning is a sure thing, even with your destiny crap.

I know it’s not a sure thing. But what is going to motivate me more, what is going to make me work harder in that match than knowing that it’s all or nothing?

A tense silence falls in the room. Bateman puts his face in his hands before rubbing his eyes.

I have enough to deal with right now without your insanity. But if you want to be like Burna, a man that I’m going to make sure doesn’t win that Lethal Lottery match, so be it. You’ve dug your own grave, Blade.

This is typical of you. You have doubted me and underrated me my whole career. Even now, when I've done something that's shocking even for wrestling, I play second fiddle to your issues with Ty Burna. I’ve proven you wrong each and every time you said I couldn’t win. I’m going to do it again. You see, sir…

Blade stands up quickly and takes a drag of his cigarette. He looks Bateman right in the eye.

This Sunday, it’s not going to be about the Lethal Lottery match. It’s not going to be about the Apostles of Chaos or the Sons of Destiny. It’s not even going to be about the World Title. Lethal Lottery is going to be all about me because now... I've made it all about me.

Blade turns around and storms out of the office, leaving a trail of smoke in his wake as Bateman looks on, stunned.​

 

[GI Cake]

The scene is brought into a hotel in Las Angeles; you can see a rather impatient Leon Kensworth pacing back and forth with a DVD in his hand. He has a worried look upon his face as he paced back in forth in the lobby. Shortly after you see Ricky Runn pass Leon with his signature smile on his face. He was almost able to sneak by Leon to get to the Elevator. Ricky then presses the button to summon the elevator. Ricky’s blonde hair is damp from sweat his hard day’s work. He planned on getting his shower and prepare for Lethal Lottery. Leon then finally spots Ricky and quickly makes his way towards him. Ricky kept a smile and before Leon could say anything Ricky wipes his face with his hand and says.

“Sorry Leon, but like I told Becky, and Johnny Klamor, I’m not doing any promos and interviews till after Lethal Lottery.”

Leon shook his head and replies.

“Well that is not why I’m here Ricky…But why aren’t you doing interviews?”

Ricky smirked and shakes his head.

“Bad luck, which is something I can do without when it comes down to the Lottery.”

Leon shrugged his shoulders.

“Fair enough, but I got a message from the Sons of~”

Ricky then cuts his off and shakes his head and says boldly.

“Tell Blade I’m not interested in the crap he is stuffing into Hammond and Overtlast’s mouth. I don’t need any of th~”

Leon sighs and rolls his eyes and pulls out the DVD and holds it out to Ricky and speaks over him.

“They told me they wanted you to watch this. And trust me; you sound like you’re fed up with them already…Just wait, till you watch this.”

Ricky turns his head and grabs the DVD and looks at it curiously.

“Well Leon, what’s on this thing?”

Leon then has a concerned look on his face and says softly.

“Look Ricky, the Sons, they are really sick people. If I wasn’t obligated by contract to record this, I wouldn’t have.”

Ricky, now a bit irritated says in a frustrated tone.

“What’s on the DVD Leon?”

Before Leon could respond a loud ding is heard which is then followed with the doors opening up. Leon takes this opportunity and goes.

“Ah well look at the time, It’s really late and I need to do some work! See you later Ricky!”

Ricky looks as Leon flees from him. He shrugs his shoulders and walks into the elevator. He then clicks. But before the doors close, a large man comes running to the elevator with an old Austin Reynolds T-Shirt on. Ricky spots him in the nick of time and keeps the elevator open before it can close. The rather large man starts gasping for air before he could thank Ricky for keeping the elevator open.

“Whew, thank you, thank you very much dude.”

Ricky nods and pats the guys back and says smiling.

“Hey dude, try standing up straight, helps your breathing. What floor you on?”

“10th.”

Ricky nods as he presses the button for the large man and then follows it up with his own floor. Once the large man was able to catch his breath he looks up and squeals in excitement.

“Holy cow, you’re Ricky Runn! I’m marking out so hard right now!”

Ricky makes a cringing smile and nods.

“Uh thanks bro and you're welcome by the way.”

“Oh my god, are you excited for Lethal Lottery? Your first Lethal Lottery and you are doing double duty.”

“Yeah bro, Austin and I have been training hard for this week. We’ve doing a lot of cardio work and we plan on~ is that an Austin Reynolds shirt?”

The Smark smiles and nods happily and holds out his shirt.

“Hell yeah, I’m a huge Austin Reynolds mark. Dude is the best guy never to win a world title, well other than Blade. But your guys are having my dream feud; I had something like this in my Book This on these forums I go on.”

Ricky nods his head repetitively as he does his best to give off that him listening to his babbling. After a while the fan says something that quickly captures Ricky’s attention.

“So is it true what the Dirt sheets say, is Austin Reynolds retiring after Kingdom Come?”

Ricky gasps at the thought and shakes his head.

“No, no way dude. Austin hasn’t told me a thing about anything about retiring. We are the tag team champions, and we plan on being that for a long time. Hopefully we have a longer reign than the Full House Daves.”

The fan shakes his head and says to Ricky.

“I would believe that if this didn’t come from only one website, but it has been on every major dirt sheet I go on.”

Ricky cocks his eyebrow and says in a confused tone.

“You’re telling me you believe a bunch of websites about someone’s future over the guy he is a tag-team champion with? That makes no sense. Austin would have told me if he was going to retire, he wouldn’t just pull that on me out of thin air and quit.”

Before the fan can go on, the elevator stops at the 10th floor and the fan gets disgruntled and leaves the Elevator. Ricky takes a deep breath and tries to sort his thoughts out.

“Is Austin really retiring, no way, he has too much passion for this business to just quit, at least not now anyway…”

Ricky finally reaches the 16th floor of his hotel room. His room was across the hall from Austin and Hayley. He wanted to hear from the source and knocks on walks to Austin’s room and knocks on the door and says loudly.

“Hey Austin, open up man, I need to talk to you about something.”

After a minute, Austin exits the hotel room yawning before saying a bit irate.

“Hey Ricky, what gives? You know it’s late and you know the policy.”

Ricky nods and says softly.

“Yeah yeah, but I’ve been hearing from some reliable sources something you are holding back from me.”

Austin then sighs and looks away while Ricky continues.

“I know you know exactly what I am talking about Austin. You’re planning on retiring after Kingdom Come? Why didn’t you think about telling me this?”

Austin rolls his eyes and looks away and says softly.

“I don’t know I don’t want to retire Ricky. You know I don’t, it’s just…”

Ricky crosses his arms and continues.

“What is it? You’re telling me the ratings winner is going to quit on WZCW, on his fans…On me?”

“That’s not it at all mate.”

“Are you afraid we are not going to win it all at Lethal Lottery?”

“You don’t understand what you are talking about.”

“You’re right, please enlighten me bro!”

Austin rolls his eyes and shows the brace that was strapped tightly around his hand.

“You won’t understand what I’m going through Ricky, and I don’t expect you to. When you have been wrestling at the high level I have for as long as I have had, you would understand what I have been through, what I am going through right now once you have the career I have.”

Ricky calms down a bit and starts to feel bad about confronting Austin like this while Austin continues to speak.

“The doctors, Hayley, they all want me to get surgery. I’m telling them that I will get it after Kingdom Come. But I don’t know if I want the surgery, or if I do get it, nothing is concrete yet Ricky.”

Ricky takes a deep breath and says softly.

“Hey man, I’m sorry. I had no idea…”

Austin pats Ricky’s shoulder and says before yawning.

“I know mate, but it is really late. We can talk about this after Lethal Lottery, I promise. But right now, I need some sleep.”

Ricky nods his head and says softly.

“Yeah man, I’m sorry for barging in like this.”

Austin simply nods back and walks back into his hotel room and closes the door behind him. He took a deep breath and relaxed against the wall. And said to himself.

“Well that is a shock…I can’t believe an internet dirt sheet knew more than I did. What a weird day.”

He then looks down at his hand to see he completely forgot about the DVD gripped in his hand.

“Do I really want to watch this? Knowing those cronies, it is most likely some creepy fetish they share. Something I could never get burned out of my head.”

He then gently pats the back of it against his hand.

“I suppose it could give me something to use against them.”

Ricky gets off the wall and walks down the long hallway to his hotel room. He finally stops at the door at the end of the hallway. He slides he key card and enters he freshly cleaned hotel room. He makes a bee line to the T.V and opens up the DVD player that was placed in the entertainment system. He then takes a seat on the edge of the bed and clicks Play on the remote. Ricky sat with his back straight as he watched intently. As the DVD went on, Ricky’s stoic expression slowly turned to one of anger. His teeth snarled and the sound of his teeth grinding could be heard over the audio of the DVD. Once the DVD finally ended, the Daredevil at hunched over with his hands clenched tightly into fists, he then growled under his breath.

“You’ve done a lot of lowly shit in your life Mick, but this is the last straw, after Lethal Lottery, you will be begging god you never even learned of the word Destiny, no one insults her resting place like you have! I’m tired of it all!”

Ricky then gets up and throws a fit of rage. He begins tearing off the sheets to his bed. He grabs the DVD player right out and throws it against the wall. The next 5 minutes become a blur to Ricky as he destroys everything in the hotel room. Once Ricky came too again, he was laying against the wall in his hotel room. He was curled up in a ball. His hands covering his face as blood dribbled from his knuckles. But suddenly a voice can be heard from in the room, it was a comforting voice, it was a familiar voice to the Daredevil.

“Wow Ricky, I didn’t think the video was that bad…”

Ricky’s eyes shoot wide as he looks up to see Rachael sitting on the recently destroyed bed. She has a look of concern as she looks about the destroyed hotel room. Ricky’s jaw might as well have hit the floor as his eyes open wide. He had no idea what exactly he was seeing before his eyes.

“I mean, sure this Mick guy is a jerk, but he is nothing like the kids we grew up with in High school. Hell, I had turds bigger than him.”

Rachael was going to continue to babble on but Rachael caught notice of Ricky’s shocked expression. She simply shrugs her shoulders and says with a smile.

“What, you never seen a ghost before?”

Ricky shook his head slowly as Rachael laughs and says smiling.

“Well then again, I could just be a figment of your imagination, or maybe both. Who knows, all that matters is that you’re stuck with me for a while. Or until you get some help. Aw hell, I can be your mental help till then!”

Ricky shook his head as he finally found a way to structure a sentence.

“Wha….Wh…How are you here?”

Ricky then finally snaps into sense and gets up and walks to the bed and says skeptically.

“There is no way you can be a ghost, or a figment, this is some trick. Or I might not have drink enough water. Or something!”

Rachael shook her head and held out her hand at Ricky.

“Go ahead and give me a hand shake Rick. I bet you 5 ghost dollars your hand will go right through.”

Ricky’s eyes squint as he looks at the held out hand. He then reluctantly reached out to touch her hand. But as soon as Ricky got close, Rachael pulled it back and shouted playfully.

“Psych! Got you bad bro!”

Ricky couldn’t help but laugh before rubbing his crimson knuckles. He smiles and sits down on the couch beside Rachael. He puts his head down and said softly.

“Sorry if I’m coming off as a huge mess…Well, I am in a giant mess.”

Rachael, almost as if he she hit a switch, went from being playful and friendly to a look of concern and says softly.

“Let’s see, big contract, tag team champion, nice cars…The luxury to completely trash a hotel room. You seem to be doing fine Ricky.”

Ricky smirks and then shakes his head.

“That’s not what I mean Rachael…This is the biggest pay-per-view of my career. Not only am in Lottery, are Austin and I defending our titles on the same night. It’s a lot of hard work. A lot of hard work that might be going in vain, Austin might be retiring after Kingdom Come. Which makes me ask, why should we even bother?”

Rachael sighs and says softly.

“Ricky, I have been watching you since you debuted on WZCW. Austin has been looking out for you since you started. He’s only wanted the best for you, but sadly things are catching up for him. That doesn’t mean you should quit on him for any reason. You and Austin are going to enter Lethal Lottery the Tag Champs and you’re going to leave, still tag team champs.”

Ricky then responds.

“But we all know this can’t last forever, I need to take my chance at Lethal Lottery. I’ve granted a huge opportunity to main-event Kingdom Come, and hold half of the tag titles, something that has never been done before. It is something I want to do. Ever since I started, I wanted to make my mark and entertain everyone that watches. I want to be the guy that people tune onto Meltdown or purchase Pay-Per-Views for. I want fans to point me out of the crowds and go That’s Ricky Runn! He’s my favorite WZCW Superstar of all time. I want to be among the legends like Titus, Everest, and even my tag partner, Austin Reynolds, there just comes the time I need to branch off from Batman and put away the Robin outfit, and become Nighthawk.”

“I have nobody in my draft class that is left anymore. Jackson Williams and Ewan Kampa went to jobbers hell and the only other talent in my class was cheated out by Showtime, Stan Rogers. I only have one person that people can use to measure me to in my career and that is Austin. And right now, my career is nothing compared to Reynolds. I want to change that. I have worked for everything I have got out of this business, my contract, my team mate, my title. The only thing I didn’t earn was my Lethal Lottery spot, that was given to me from WZCW brass. It is something I plan on not spoiling it away; I’m going to make the most of it. If Austin leaves after Kingdom Come, I lose my title. This is why Lethal Lottery is so important, if I can’t have the tag titles, I will take the world title. From time, and time again, I’ve showed I am up for any challenge. Handicap matches, All English Rules, battle royals, it doesn’t matter who I face or when I face them. I am always ready to go 100% Blade might have the Sons of Destiny watching his back and Ty Burna might have his Apostles of Chaos, but I don’t care, I will take them on with a smile on my face.”

Ricky then stands up and continues his speech.

“In my short time in WZCW, I have grown in leaps and bounds since I started. When I started, I took my contract with a grain of sand. I was living in the moment; I was living it up with Saboteur and partying in Vance Bateman’s office. I learned how much of an impact I can make upon the fans if I can contribute everything I can to them. When I lost you Rachael, I learned how much how the act of one person can change someone’s life for the better. And at the end of it all, when I sleeping on that jet to the next show, late to practice, I can take happiness out of the fact I did some good in the world. Imagine the impact I can make if I won Lethal Lottery. Imagine how many young kids can see that you can accomplish the impossible if you work your hardest to accomplish what you set out to do. Weather it is fighting a disease, trying to pick a job, or even it is making the starting rotation on their little league basketball team.”

“If Austin leaves this business and retires at Kingdom Come, regardless at what happens. I will be the first one to hug him and wish him the best of luck. Without him, without you, I wouldn’t be a champion; I wouldn’t be in the lottery. I owe it to him to win the lottery; it doesn’t matter if I enter at number 2, or number 29. Austin and I will meet in the Lottery and we will show the Sons and the Apostles what real team work is all about. And then when it comes down to between the two best men in the Lottery, The Ratings Winner and The Second City Daredevil. We will put on the greatest Lottery anyone has ever seen, and the better man will be walking out with a secure spot at the main-event of Kingdom Come. “

Suddenly, a loud banging can be heard from the door to his hotel room. After Ricky looks over to the door Rachael vanishes from the face of the earth, almost as if she was never there in the first place. Ricky walks up and opens the door as an employee of the hotel looks inside in pure and utter shock. Ricky then quickly shouts.

“Oh god, thank god you made it, the Sons…The Sons of Destiny had the nerve to attack me in my hotel room! They even tore up the place!”

The employee didn’t say a word but towered over Ricky and shook his head, not buying Ricky’s story one bit. Ricky sighs and digs into his back pocket to pull out his wallet.

“Darn…So how much will it cost to fix the damage?”

 

[BK Styles]

No-one expects me to win...

Triple X is sitting in the middle of the Lethal Lottery ring, hours before the show begins. Outside the ring, people are still setting the arena up for the big show later on.

As I sit here, I see many people walk past. Men and women who've helped set up countless shows. Superstars, young and old, who've made a name for themselves in this company. Champions, past and present, who have defined themselves on the very canvas I now sit on.

Simply put, I am in awe. This is without a shadow of a doubt the biggest event I've ever been a part of in my life. And in many ways, it could be the biggest night of my life, too. It could be the golden ticket to the front-row seat at Kingdome Come. I mean, to think that this will be my fourth match, and I'm already in a position to have a shot at the biggest event in Wrestling.

At Aftershock, I won my first match on my journey here in WZCW; an over-the-top-rope four-way for the spot I now hold in this match. Perfect preperation, some would say.

But there is no such thing as perfect preperation in a match like this. One thing rules all...

...suprises.

Serra: Hey, X.

X snaps out of his thoughts and comes back to reality, only to find Becky Serra, oddly without a microphone, outside the ring.

Serra: Finally! It's not like I've been standing here for a while or anything.

X: Sorry, Beck, just thinking about the big match.

Serra: Yeah, you do seem a bit spaced out...you okay?

X stares at her, thinking long and hard about the words he uses. Deep down, even he isn't 100% sure how he feels.

X: This is my first Pay Per View with the company, Beck. Coming just after my first win in the company, too. I'm riding pretty high. But I've gotta beat 29 guys out there to get where I wanna go. 29 of the best wrestlers in the world, and some of them are bigger, some are stronger, some smaller, quicker, smarter, more experienced, and dare I say it, just better than I am. And that's a sobering thought. I want my first big event to be one to remember, for me and my fans.

Becky looks confused for a moment, as if to question X's mindset. He continues:

X: This isn't me being defeatist, this is me being a realist. I could go out there and kid myself that this is my time to join the list of the elite performers in this company, but who the hell am I kidding? I'm just a guy. I'm not an icon, like some of the guys here. I'm no superstar. I just got here; some punk-kid off the street who everyone looks at as just another cookie-sutter spot-monkey. To the guys already here, I'm just a stepping stone. Hell, all I am is a god-damn rookie.

X, noticably annoyed with himself, smacks the canvas with all his might. He continues to speak, but in a more soothed tone.

X: Sorry Becky, you came here to ask me something. You don't need me to keep going on.

Serra: Oh...yeah. I just wanted to let you know you have an interview backstage for wzcw.com in about an hours time. Anyway, I have to go. Got some stuff to take care of before the show starts. But... she pauses, choosing her words carefully ...there's a first time for everything. And sometimes, someone new needs to break the mould set for the rest to follow.

Becky walks off towards backstage, leaving X with her words ringing in his ears.

I know she's right. I mean, I can't just go into this match and not try. I can't accept defeat straight away. But who am I kidding? 29 guys. How the hell do I have a chance in hell against guys like Ty Burna, Cougar, Reynolds and Blade? Hell, they're just some of the big fish, then there's guys like Rucky Runn, Black Dragon and Saboteur. Hell, that damn robot S.H.I.T has had my number a few times, too. How the hell can I win this thing when no-one expects me to win...

No-one expects me to win.

An Hour Later...

Triple X, in ring gear with a baseball cap and a WZCW t-shirt on, is standing in the interview area. Becky Serra is next to him, staring directly into the camera.

Serra: Ladies and gentlemen, in a WZCW.com exclusive, Triple X. Now X, tonights lottery match is one of the biggest spectacles of the year, and the winner of the 30-man event will earn the right to go to Kingdome Come to challenge for the world championship. How do you feel your chances stack up against the competition you face tonight?

X doesn't look up straight away, instead he has his eyes transfixed on the floor.

X: The Lethal Lottery is the match that can begin one man's legacy. Men like Big Will, in the very first Lethal Lottery. Men like the legendary Titus. Men like Showtime Cougar. The reason that their names are etched into history is not because they were neccessarily better than everyone else. Not because they were smarter, faster, or stronger. It isn't even because they had more will to win. It's because on that given day, they shocked the world, and suprised everyone.

He continues to stare down.

X: No-one expects me to win.

He begins to raise his head.

X: Not one person. Not even myself.

X, finally looking up, has a big, wide, almost cocky smile on his face, looking off camera.

Unlike every other superstar in this match, Becky, I don't have that expectation on my shoulders. I know I don't have to win. Not unlike the other 29 superstars here. They will all be going into this match with the simple goal of winning, knowing the simple truth that this will be the match that 'defines them'.

X now looks directly into the camera, looking more focused than before.

All I'm interested in doing is going out there and putting on a show. Of course, winning the match would be nice too, and trust me, I have every intent of going into Kingdome Come's main event, rookie or not. But you see, I'm not gonna hang my hat on beating 29 other guys. I recognize that I'm probably one of the least likely guys to pull it off. I'm not gonna give myself that baggage going into this match. Which, in turn, means that I have nothing, and I damn well mean nothing, to lose. But all of you 'big fish' in that pond later tonight, while you're trying to throw someone over the top rope with all that added weight of pressure...just remember that I'm gonna be there, expectation and pressure-free. And I'm gonna be damn ready to throw your sorry asses over the top rope the very second you make a mistake.

He turns to leave, but as he does;

X: Dont worry though, I'll save you all seats at Kingdome Come. See you in the Lottery, bozos.

 

[red ass skull muhfukkah]

The Cool Beans coffee shop’s lights are dimmed, only one worker is standing behind the counter. A young girl with black hair and thick glasses is washing the machines. Dr. Alhazred is the only customer in the small shop, he is sitting alone in a corner. He is wearing a grey hooded sweatshirt with a military jacket over it. In one hand sits his coffee, in his Power Glove he is holding a Lethal Lottery poster with every member of the roster on it. The girl walks over to him and taps him on the shoulder.

Waitress: Dude, you’ve been staring at that poster for like three hours now. You’ve barely drank your coffee and we’re closing now. You gotta go.

Dr. Alhazred continues to stare at the poster intently, almost studying the faces of all the men on the poster. The girl licks her index finger and sticks it in his ear. He jumps and spills coffee all over the table. He glares at her as he cleans out his ear.

Dr. Alhazred: What’s your problem, woman? Can’t a man enjoy his coffee in peace?

Waitress: Yeah that would be the case for normal customers at normal hours. But you’ve been coming here everyday for the past week and just staring at that poster, and we’re closed. Go home; don’t you have anything better to do than sit around this crappy place?

Dr. Alhazred: Probably. I should probably be training my body endlessly for the trial that awaits me Sunday. I know I should, the Lethal Lottery is my best chance at fulfilling all of my goals and dreams. But for some reason, I can’t stop staring at this poster and I can’t seem to get myself out of this chair. I don’t know if it’s fear or insanity that makes me unable to move from this spot, but I know sooner or later I have to get up.

Waitress: Not sooner or later, you have to get up now. It’s late, I want to go home, and it looks like it’s starting to snow. So, please, for me and for yourself, go home.

Dr. Alhazred: Home.

Waitress: Yes, home. Go. Now.

Dr. Alhazred: I can’t go home. How can I go home?

Waitress: It’s easy you get up, go to your car, drive where you live and go into your house.

Dr. Alhazred: If only it were that simple, if only everything was that simple. But it’s not and it never will be again.

Waitress: Dude, you’re bumming me out. Stop being such a whiny baby. “Oh my life is horrible! I get to travel across the world and perform me dream job in front of thousands of people!”. It must be so hard for you.

Dr. Alhazred: I’m glad you understand. The pressure of it all gets to me sometimes, that’s probably the worst part about everything, the pressure to perform at the highest level every time I enter arena. Not only that but the pressure that my peers and comrades put on me. Ty and the Apostles are expecting so much out of me, especially come the Lethal Lottery, and I don’t know if I have what it takes to meet their expectations.

Waitress: You totally do.

Dr. Alhazred: I do?

Waitress: Yes. Now, go home.

Dr. Alhazred: Alright then. See you tomorrow.

Dr. Alhazred gets up from his seat and leaves some money on the table. He walks out of the coffee shop and into a cold, Boston street. The snow is beginning to come down and is starting to stick to the ground. He rubs his hands together and blows in them for warmth and heads for his van. He gets in, starts it up and blasts the heat. He goes to put it in drive but stops for a moment. He looks in his hand and he’s still holding the poster.

Dr. Alhazred: Why do I have this doubt? Why is it infecting my brain with this self-loathing and pity? It’s never gotten to me before. I’ve always taken everything thrown at me and simply shrugged it off. It’s always the same thing. Something big goes down and I say to myself and others that I’ll obliterate everyone in my path and that none of it affects me. But it does and I think it has for a long time, I’ve just been bottling it away. It’s so hard to think at all these days with all the voices that linger in my mind. The voice of my father telling me to grow up from my childish ways, to stop wasting all my time on those damn video games, rather that putting myself to good use. The voice of Ty Burna telling me to cause chaos in his name, to do everything in my power to make sure that in the end Ty Burna and Chaos Reign. His voice is the loudest of them all lately. My mission of destruction has consumed every fiber of my being for months now. I have to attack this wrestler, make sure I take out this other one, get control of S.H.I.T. so we can use him to obliterate everyone. With his words clouding my head, I haven’t even gotten to relish in that achievement. S.H.I.T. is quite possibly the most dangerous weapon WZCW has ever seen, possibly greater than my own Power Glove. But all of this time people have been using him wrong. Something with that much power, ability, and soullessness is meant for bigger things that what it was doing. I should be ecstatic and so proud of myself at that engineering feat. All the time I’ve spent trying to gain control of him and for what? For Ty and the other Apostles to use to gain the upper hand in the Lethal Lottery? No, I won’t have it. I am the one who should say what he does, I am the only human who knows what it is capable of, and I alone should wield that power. It’s either me or no one. Let it act on its own accord, I’m sure deep down in its programming it knows what its true purpose is. But what about me? What is my purpose?

He turns the heat down a little bit and flicks on his windshield wipers. The snow is coming down hard now.

Dr. Alhazred: For months on end, I’ve stated my one and only purpose is to cause chaos everywhere I go. To dismantle the foundation of everything around me. To destroy everyone and everything. I’ve preached it, I’ve lived it, I’ve done horrible things in the name of this purpose. But in the end I still feel nothing. I thought if I gathered all the right tools that everything would fit together but it hasn’t. I have the Power Glove, I have the Ouija, and now I have S.H.I.T. but what has it gotten me and more importantly; what will it get me? It will lead Ty and the Apostles further up the mountain of WZCW, it will make it easier for us to achieve our goals but do I share their goals? Are they truly looking out for me or just for themselves and Ty?

He looks at one of the pictures taped to his dashboard. It’s of him, James King, and Mister holding the WZCW World Tag Team Championships and wearing their laser tag gear. He smiles.

Dr. Alhazred: It was so simple back then. There were no greater goals, no power struggles, no worrying about every guy in the locker room wanting to kick your ass. All we worried about was each other, defending those titles, kicking ass in the ring, and going home and playing Super Smash Brothers all night. No darkness, no madness, no chaos, just friends and fun. But Ty has done so much for me. I was in a horrible place before I heard his voice, I got in that car crash, James King forgot about me, and worst of all; my one true friend passed on. His demon claws grabbed me by my throat and lifted me onto the path of greatness. For the first time in my life, people notice me and what I’ve done. They finally fear the man who holds the Power Glove because they know what he is capable of. They’ve seen him and the Apostles crush men’s bodies. Now longer when they face me do they think it will be an easy win, now when they face me; they wonder if they’ll make it out of the ring in one piece. I traded fun and happiness for what I’ve wanted since I stepped foot in this company: to be feared and respected. But is that a fair trade? Am I not allowed to have both? All these questions make what I do in the Lethal Lottery match all the more important. Do I take bullets for Ty and let chaos reign across the entire company or do I dodge those very bullets and toss Ty over myself? So many questions and doubts and no one to tell me what is right and what is wrong.

He begins punching the dashboard of his car furiously. In his fit of rage, his glove box opens. The mask of his dead friend Mister slowly rolls out of it and onto the passenger seat. He stops for a moment and stares at it. He grabs it with his Power Glove hand and holds it in his lap.

Dr. Alhazred: Is this a sign from my old and only true friend? It must be, he was the one person who knew me best and always helped me figure out what I should do. He traveled the world and helped so many people. He had infinite knowledge of everything around him and he saw something in me. I never understood why he hung around me so much, when he’s lived such an interesting life, why would he spend so much time with someone as uninteresting as me? Maybe he wanted to help me. Before his passing he told me he found information about my past and my family. I truly wish he were still here, not just so he could tell me all he knows and because he was a badass Halo partner. I wish he were here so I could tell him how much I truly miss him and how he made me a better man. His one and only goal was to motivate me to improve myself, and I did. I conquered the tag division with him and James King by my side and since he passed I used everything he taught me, mixed it with all the rage and hatred I’ve built up since I was a boy and used it in the name of chaos and Ty Burna. Now it is time for me to use all of I’ve gained in my time with him and my time with the Apostles. For the first time in my life I know that what I must do, I must do for myself. I will go into that Lethal Lottery and lay waste to everyone in the match. I will use the strength of the Power Glove to hurl men twice my size over the top rope and onto the floor. I will win the Lethal Lottery and I will take my place in the main event of Kingdom Come. I will do all of this not for my father, not for the Forgotten Powers, not for James King, not for Mister, not for Ty, not for the Apostles, and not for chaos. I will do all of this for myself. I have earned it.

He puts on Mister’s mask and stares at himself in the rear view mirror. Tears are beginning to form in his eyes. He looks away from the mirror, puts his car in drive, and begins to drive as the scene fades to black.

 

[michigan]

Out in the middle of Grand Rapids Michigan we see the outside of an arena. Not a large arena but just big enough to be playing host to a WZCW house show. The sign out front advertises the show and promises a surprise guest.

The shot transfers to an inside shot of the arena. It’s a modest place that seats around 8,000 or so. After a quick glance around the arena the ring comes into focus and several WZCW youngsters are in the ring trying their best to put on a match worthy of the greatest wresting federation known to the world. They are not really succeeding at all as the crowd is getting agitated and finally starts chanting “Boring” “Boring” “Boring”!

Only a few moments pass as the two grapplers are quickly finishing up their match. The customary house show ending follows and the crowd actually cheers as the referee announces the winner, more for the fact that the match is over than for the actual winner. The crowd is indifferent as the victor raises his hands in the air. As he climbs the turnbuckle with his back to the entrance though, the crowd erupts into an arena shaking roar. The youngster doesn’t know what to do, he can’t believe the response he is getting. What he doesn’t realize is there is another man coming down the ramp to the ring:

WZCW’s own Everest slowly walks to the ring, shaking hands with some of the fans, he even stops, leans on the railing with one arm and chats up the most beautiful girl in the arena. After a few seconds he continues his march to the ring, taking in the roar of the crowd as he slides into the ring, showing the agility he is known for world wide.

The unknown youngster finally hops down from the turnbuckle, turns around, and almost walks directly into Everest’s chest. The kid seems startled and stumbles back at first. Everest smiles that trademark smirk, looks the kid in the eye and extends his hand. The youngster is a bit taken aback at first before extend his own hand and shaking the legend’s hand. Everest raises the kid’s hand in the air and the crowd applauds, then OUT OF THE BLUE, Everest does the classic pull back move, pulling the youngster back toward him and right into a ROCKSLIDE!

The crowd goes NUTS! Everest grabs a microphone from ringside, smiles that golden smirk and as the crowd erupts and the youngster slumps onto the mat, he begins to speak.

EVEREST: Well, well, well…….It may not be Ann Arbor, but it IS great to BE BACK HOME!

So first of all, I guess I better apologize to WZCW’s next great superstar, now if only I knew his name so I could apologize. Oh well, I’ll send him a card.

Anyway, on to the reason I’m here tonight! You see the “surprise” listed on that marquee out front isn’t just for yours truly to stroll out here, schmooze some fans, flirt with some ladies and pound home the point that I’m still the Legend around here by planting some poor unknown wannabe into the mat. As much fun as all that sounds I really do have a surprise up my sleeve for all you fine folks here in Grand Rapids.

You see I’m here to make a MAJOR announcement concerning my future.


Alright, I won’t keep you waiting any longer, here goes:

I’m out here tonight to let you all know, and let all the WZCW.com followers out there in cyberspace know that the 2012 Lethal Lottery will be the LAST Lethal Lottery for me!

The crowd goes SILENT! Literally pin drop silence as Everest looks around the arena and smiles before speaking again.

EVEREST: Yep that’s right everyone, because after I win this year’s Lottery match, I am going to take my World Title opportunity that will follow and I will bring my championship back where it belongs!

Don’t worry it gets even simpler, once I have my championship I’ll be defending it next year at the 2013 Lethal Lottery Pay Per View, therefore no more Lethal Lottery.

I’m sure Matt Tastic, Mr. Baller, "Showtime" Cougar, Wasabi Toyota, Blade, Constantine, Reynolds, Titus and our “Boss” might just have something to say about this, but trust me when I tell you if there is one match where experience is the best quality to have it’s the Lethal Lottery and who has more experience then me. I mean you’ve heard it from every superstar this side of S.H.I.T. who probably has it programmed into his “database” as well.

You can have all the athletic ability, or sly cunning or charisma you want but when you are in that ring with 29 other superstars none of that matters, but experience trumps all.

As Everest panders to the crowd a little bit, the youngster has begun to stir on the mat and has used the ropes to steady himself for a few seconds before finally standing and glancing over at Everest. You can see the kid remembers what has happened recently and seems to have decided to get even. He heads over to Everest, taps the champion on the shoulder and readies for an attack. In less than an instant Everest turns around, ducks the punch, lifts the poor kid up once again and plants him dead center of the ring with another ROCKSLIDE!

The crowd erupts again, Everest picks up the microphone and

EVEREST: THIS IS STILL MY WORLD


I JUST LET THEM LIVE IN IT.


The final scene shows Everest dropping the microphone on the new guy lying unconscious on the mat. He salutes the crowd and rolls under the bottom rope and calmly heads up the ramp, basking in the glow of the crowd’s love.

 

[Baller]

It is the week of WZCW’s Lethal Lottery Pay Per View. The Lethal Lottery is WZCW’s second biggest pay per view of the year, which leads up to Kingdom Come. The road to Kingdom Come begins with the Lethal Lottery match itself, which is a 30 man over the top battle royale where the last man standing will receive a WZCW World Heavyweight Championship match at Kingdom Come. Mr. Baller has earned the right to enter 30th, the best place to enter. During the week leading up to Lethal Lottery, WZCW runs an interactive event for all of its fans in the host city of the Lethal Lottery, Los Angeles, California. The fans can meet all of its favorite superstars, and right now they have the chance to meet and greet with Mr. Baller, who is quite uneasy about attending the signing. Baller has a long line of WZCW fanatics waiting in line for Baller, Baller is talking back in the superstar’s area talking to Vance Bateman about getting out of the event.

Baller: I am not doing this Vance. Lethal Lottery starts in 24 hours, and I have stuff to do.

Vance: This isn’t a choice Baller.

Baller: You can’t make me do this.

Baller begins to take out his cell phone.

Baller: Don’t make me call my lawyer.

Vance: Please call your lawyer, and show him in the part of your contract where it says you must attend all fan interactive events if asked by WZCW Management.

Baller shoves his cell phone back into his pocket, but since he tried to force it in, his phone drops to the floor, and causes the screen to crack.

Baller: God damnit! You are paying for this new phone. It’s your fault I dropped it.

Vance: Do you ever blame yourself Baller? Whose fault is it that you lost this past week?

Baller: It’s definitely not my fault. Whose bright idea was it to put me in action one week before the biggest match of my career against some raging lunatic? I could’ve broken out of that stupid submission move if I wanted to, but I didn’t want to risk any injury and wanted the match to be over with so I can get out of there. It’s clear I wasn’t in any sign of pain.

Vance: Clearly you wanted to leave so bad, that you decided to assault Matt Tastic after the match was over. Whose fault is that a 10-man brawl ensued due to your actions?

Baller: Sure as hell wasn’t my fault. I was just sending Tastic a message proving that I could’ve won that match if I cared enough, how was I supposed to know that the rest of the idiots backstage would come out and pick a fight. Hell I threw them all over the rope anyways, and that’s with me starting the damn fight. Imagine what is going to happen when I enter the Lethal Lottery at number thirty tomorrow night.

Baller then looks in to the sky, and begins to daydream of him winning the Lethal Lottery. Picturing what happened at Aftershock to be the final men of the Lethal Lottery match and him going on to Kingdom Come to get the match he has coveted for his entire career: A 1 on 1 WZCW World Heavyweight Championship Match.

Vance: Get out of fantasyland Baller. Congrats on throwing out of all of the people who compete on Aftershock, what is going to happen when you have to deal with Showtime, Titus, Ty…

Baller: The same damn thing. Everybody else will be tired by the time I enter the ring, heck there could only be like five people in the ring by the time my music even kicks or screw it I could just walk into the ring and be declared the winner because everybody else could already be out. That’s how good I am, I won’t even have to lay a finger on anybody and still go onto main event at the grandest stage of them all. And you better believe that Bateman.

Vance: I better believe that you will get your ass out there right now and sign some god damn autographs or I will ban you from competing tomorrow night. And don’t think you are going to sneak your way out of this after five minutes, you are still the same old Baller, and nothing is going to change that.

Baller: We will see about that after tomorrow night.

As Baller walks past Bateman, he then begins to head to his booth. He walks through the convention center, and as he approached his signing station, he sees there are only a few teens standing in his line. It is 2 kids, both around 18 years old wearing Titus T-Shirts, blue jeans, and are wearing glasses.

Fan 1: Finally he’s here. Hey Baller, you’re 15 minutes late, what gives?

Baller: Blame Bateman not me, and you better watch your tone around me, or you aren’t getting no autographs.

The first fan chuckles.

Baller: What’ so funny there?

Fan 1: The fact that you think we want your autograph.

Both kids point at their Titus’ shirts

Fan 2: We’re Titus fans, duh.

The three fans slap hands and begin to laugh at Baller for thinking they wanted his autograph.

Baller: So why the hell are you not over there in the Titus line?

Fan 2: We’ve already gone through 3 times, and they told us we couldn’t come back anymore as we were preventing others from getting autographs.

Fan 1: Titus is such a good guy, he wants to make sure everybody gets an autograph before he whoops you and 28 other people’s butt and wins the Lethal Lottery for the second time!

Baller: Sorry to break your dreams there, but Titus won’t even be in the match anymore by the time I even enter the match. I am the favorite to win to it all and main event Kingdom Come.

Fan 2: Oh really?

Fan 2 then takes out his laptop and opens up the Internet and goes to www.WZCWBookie.com. The kid then clicks on the Lethal Lottery tab on the left hand part of the screen, and lists each named competitor and their odds to win the Lethal Lottery match. The fan then highlights both Titus and Mr. Baller and it shows Titus is a 8:1 favorite and Baller is 18:1 favorite to win the Lethal Lottery match. At 18 to 1 odds Baller is listed as the 9th man most likely to win the event come tomorrow night.

Fan 2: The favorite? You aren’t even in the top 5 of favorites. How do you plan to win if you aren’t even deemed a threat?

Baller: That’s some stupid bookie website, it just caters to what the people want so they can make more money. Everybody else knows I am the favorite to win and if you were smart you would throw a couple of bucks on me.

Fan 1: We already did…

Baller: That’s what I like to here…

Fan 2: For you to have the shortest amount of time in the match.

The two boys begin to laugh and do their handshake once again.

Baller: Look I don’t need to take this crap from you losers. I am the best wrestler in this goddamn company and people are finally starting to take notice, and that will only continue on tomorrow night.

Fan 2: Oh really?

Fan 2 then turns his laptop towards him once more and then loads up www.WZCW.com and clicks on the Fantabulous Fifteen, which is the new ranking system on the website which is one big ranking system of the 15 top superstars in WZCW. The fan then turns the computer toward Baller, and as he scrolls down the page Baller’s name is nowhere to been seen on the list nor the “Also Being Talked About” list which adds about 8 other guys giving a grand total of 23 people being ahead of Baller.

Baller: That doesn’t mean a damn thing; some nerd sitting behind a computer desk doesn’t know who is good and who is bad. Besides they are probably told who to put on the list from the corporate machine of WZCW.

Fan 1: Stop making excuses Baller. All you do is constantly belittle WZCW Management and say how good you are; yet you have no singles championship to prove for it. You talk a great game and you win on Meltdown and Ascension from time to time, but when its time for the big matches you always seem to come up short. Whether you want to believe it or not you are still the same old Baller, and that is why tomorrow night you will be thrown over the top rope by Titus and you will be stuck in a match nobody will care about at Kingdom Come.

Baller is clearly frustrated by the two fans and quickly gets out of his chair and slams his fist on the table.

Baller: I am not the same person! I have changed who I am, I am the best wrestler in this company and my work over the last few months has proven it. I’ve beaten all of the greats in this company and it took outside interference for me to lose my one World Title Match.

Fan 2: Again with the excuses, win a big match, or nobody will take you serious. Look at Titus he has always come through when he gets a title match which is why he is the best ever in this company.

Baller has completely lost it and flips the table over almost hitting the two fans with the table.

Baller: Just wait until tomorrow night, you will see the new Mr. Baller, and prove to you and all the haters out there that have been holding me back and doubting me. The new me will not go unbeaten tomorrow night.

Baller storms off from the two fans and heads quickly out of the convention center, he makes a left immediately leaving and walks down a few blocks. After the short walk he stops in front of Big G’s Barber Shop. Baller then rubs his patented afro for a second.

Baller: It’s time for a change.

Baller then decides to enter the barbershop, and he walks in to see the store pretty packed. He walks up to the receptionist to see if he can get an appointment immediately.

Receptionist: Welcome to Big G’s Barber Shop, do you have an appointment already scheduled?


Baller: No I don’t, but I need my haircut as soon as possible.

Receptionist: Not a problem, we have only one barber available. He’s new here. What type of haircut will you be getting?

Baller: Cornrows.

Receptionist: Ok no problem, let me write this up.

The receptionist hands Baller a piece of paper.

Receptionist: That will be 10 dollars.

Baller hands the receptionist the 10-dollar bill.

Receptionist: Your barber will be Rafael, he is in station 8.

Baller then heads over to station 8, and Rafael is standing by the chair. Rafael is a heavy set man, and is wearing a WZCW Lethal Lottery T-Shirt. Baller walks over to Rafael and hands him the note.

Rafael: Hey Mr. Baller from WZCW, what are you doing here?

Rafael looks down at the paper and notices that Baller wants cornrows.

Rafael: You getting rid of the fro. What’s up with the change right before tomorrow?

Baller: It’s time for people to start respecting me. I am a main event player but people don’t treat me that way. They see my fro and they see the Baller who started off as a joke. It’s time for a change.

Rafael: That’s true; you’ve changed over the past few years. Bateman’s got it in for you no doubt.

Baller: Trust me I know. I need to show him that I am a different person and maybe with a new look he will finally respect me for the force that I am. Nobody can stop me anymore.

Rafael: I don’t know all about that, but you are definitely on the rise. Have a seat though and lets get you that new look.

Baller then sits down in the chair, Rafael elevates the chair up and begins to turn Baller’s afro into cornrows.

Rafael: So what made you decide to come to this barbershop? Surely there are some fancier places around here.

Baller: This was the closest place from that stupid interaction event. Some stupid Titus marks got under my skin and telling me how I am still the same old Baller, and that nobody respects me.

Rafael: I hate those type of fans, I just love to watch wrestling, got no favorites, I just enjoy the show.

Baller: Yeah I hate those type of fans too, I hate most of the fans WZCW has. They think they know it all, but in reality they know nothing. But heck if those losers don’t think I am threat to anybody then how the hell will I get the respect that my greatness deserves from anybody backstage?

Rafael: Yeah you’ve grown a lot from where you started, and now tomorrow night you enter at number 30, with a shot to headline Kingdom Come. Who would’ve thought of that when you first started or when you got beheaded?

Baller: I would’ve. It was only a matter of time till I broke out of my shell. I knew I had the talent I just had to finish the job, and I’ve done that. Nobody thinks I can win tomorrow night and I am going to prove them wrong. Bateman, Myles, Titus, Ty, Ricky, and all the others back there think I will never be a star, yet time and time again I prove them and all the people wrong. I’ve seen so many wrestlers expected to be the next great thing, and they all have been released a few months in. Look at Michael Winters, got title shot after title shot right when he first came in and became Elite Champion, he was gone a month later.

I’ve been in this company for over two years and have had minimal title opportunities, I constantly had to overcome the ridicule of management and be the human punch line for most of my career, yet I am still here. Twenty-nine guys all will enter the ring before me and even with me being the final entrant yet nobody will think I can win. Ty, Toyota, Cougar, Blade, Titus, the golden boys of WZCW I like to call them. I am sure they will just laugh when I enter at number 30, but that is when I will catch them. You see I’ve learned a lot from my previous Lethal Lottery matches and I know exactly what I need to do to win this match. Nobody thinks I can win this match, I will be this years Butler. That no name guy who ends up being all the big time players and getting to the National Title game. Not only did they surprise people once but then they do it again the following year.

People will never learn to stop underestimating me. I have proven time and time again that I am no joke and am the best wrestler in this company, and come tomorrow night that will not change. I will be entering last when everybody is already tired, and I will just toss them over the top rope just like I did on Aftershock. Tomorrow night is a new era for me, it will be the era of respect for me. Not only will people have to respect me but they better damn get used to me because it is the start of my road to the main event of Kingdom Come. And I will be the next WZCW World Heavyweight Champion.

Rafael: Damn you sure know how to talk a lot, you should’ve saved that for television that would’ve made a great promo. I couldn’t even get one word in, but you are all set.

Baller looks in the mirror, and nods in approval as he rises from the chair.

Baller: Can’t wait for people to see the new era with my new cut.

Rafael: Yup. I am excited to see how you do tomorrow night. Best of luck.

Baller: None will be needed, it will be the start of a great era in WZCW, and you better believe that.

Baller then walks out of the barbershop with his cornrows and heads to his hotel to begin to rest up for Lethal Lottery.

 

[newc868]

“Ah Stacey, so nice to see you today.”

“I wish I could say the same for you."

"Somehow, I never miss that sarcastic and cynical tone of yours."

"And I never miss you in general. Anyway, why did you bring me to this cess pit? It's just barely above making animals perform in a circus"

"Now now, Stacey, play nice and I'll tell you just why I'm here."

"Let's just get this over with. I'm supposed to be in Hollywood to see a real star like Titus later on this week."

"Oh aren't you just a doll."

We see an overhead view of Lincoln Park, Chicago. Brad Bomb is walking towards the entrance with WZCW interviewer, Stacey Madison. He's wearing his long grey coat and NY Giants hat; in his hands he's holding a camera and a notepad. Stacey is carrying a Dictaphone and a notepad as well. She begrudgingly smiles at the ticket tender as Brad Bomb picks up a map and storms off towards his first exhibit. With barely enough time to grab her own map, Stacey is soon rushing to keep up with Brad as he goes from exhibit, furiously taking notes and pictures.

"Can you slow down? How am I meant to interview if you won't slow down?!" Stacey is out of breath and looking frustrated as Bomb ignores her and continues writing notes. "Seriously?! I don't have to put up with this you know!"

Brad turns his head to acknowledge her for the first time since they've entered the zoo.

"Sorry. Just a couple more animals and then we'll go grab some lunch. I'll buy."

Stacey sighs and rolls her eyes at Brad. Brad smiles and darts off once more to check out another enclosure.

We next see Brad and Stacey sat down at a bench together. On the table lies Brad's notepad, the page we can see is filled with writing, while Stacey's is blank. She is just finishing a salad, while Brad has already finished his sandwich, his hand clasped around the wrapper to make sure it doesn't fly off. As soon as Stacey finishes, she wipes her mouth and grabs her notepad and Dictaphone.

"So I'm here with WZCW star, Brad Bomb, at the Lincoln Zoo in Chicago. Now Brad what's your reasoning for bringing me here today?"

"For comparisons."

"Could you elaborate?"

"I think it's quite simple - I feel as if I can learn a lot from the animals in this park and how WZCW wrestlers are similar. If you've been following me recently, you'll know that I love a good comparison."

"Yes, I've noticed but what makes this one any different?"

"I feel it's more complex. More incisive. More critical and overall - more personal."

Stacey shoots him a look that Brad interprets as carry on. Brad grabs his notebook and flips back to the first page and to the first image in his camera.

"You see this? That's a lion. You know how lions operate? They have groups called prides. Now usually in a pride there will be two males and a bunch of females for mating purposes. For all intents and purposes the male lions just stand back and lead the pack. It's the lionesses who do all the work. This as you can probably tell is relating to the Apostles of Chaos. I'd signal them similar to a pride. Ty Burna leads and the rest of his lackeys, like Alhazred, do his work for him and then he feasts on it. Now there's one very interesting I'd like to point out."

"What's that?"

"Well, once a cub grows of age, they'll be kicked out of the pride or they'll fight for leadership. As I said, Ty Burna is the leader of this pride at the moment but it's well known that he senses big things for one of his underlings - Chris K.O. He treats him just like a cub. He's training him to become his successor but I question whether or not Ty is really ready to let him take over. What happens when the time comes that Chris K.O is ready to take over? Especially if it regards the WZCW World title. That title is what keeps Ty going. It's why Ty does what he does. He's held that thing longer than anyone else and it's not a question of if he'll ever win it again but when. That could become a very important factor."

"Very well, what about the other animals?" There are 29 other people in this thing and so far you've addressed what - three people and only two of them are confirmed in the Lethal Lottery."

"I hate to be disrespectful to some but this is a time where everyone has to say they're better than others, that’s why I'm disregarding people like Triple X, Jack Skinner and Justin Cooper as nothing but rabbits and pigs. Harmless and easily dealt with. Sure they could pack a little punch but in this match, it's about who packs the biggest punch and there are some names I have to be wary of.

There's the Puma, Celeste Crimson. A rare, endangered species that's just as deadly as the rest of the wild she faces. A few tigers like Titus, Blade and Showtime Cougar. Deadly, experienced and they have just the right connections to help them get a little further than most. Hyenas like Constantine and Steven Holmes, who do nothing but sit back, watch and laugh before picking at the remains of what's left. What have those two ever done independently? Holmes is a tag team wrestler who needed an accomplice to win a singles title and Constantine is the biggest case of failed star in WZCW. He had so much potential but he could capitalise. He's a choker. He'll never make it into the big time.

Then we have the little monkeys like Reynolds and Runn and Saxton and Saboteur. They'll work together to give themselves the best chance at winning but ultimately - just like every other alliance heading into the Lethal Lottery, greed will possess one of them. Greed will corrupt one of them. Backs will stabbed, which could actually happen with Saboteur, and bonds will be broken all over WZCW. Just how stable are the packs, prides and stables of WZCW when the Lethal Lottery is concerned? Not very stable. The ultimate goal of everything in life is to be top of the food chain. That's why this analogy is better than all my others that have preceded this week. WZCW is one giant food chain and the Lethal Lottery reveals to us the true predators. Those that are truly at the top of their game and are fearless."

"But you've not answered the most important question - what makes you think you'll win this? And in the context of your analogy - what animal are you?"

"Me? I'm the Western Gorilla. A large beast that stands alone in its field. I'm 6 foot 6 and 260 pounds. There is nobody else in that locker room that stands as tall as I do and is athletic and powerful as I am. You saw just a slight example of my power on Aftershock. I dominated my opponents and then after the main event I made sure Baller knew just what he'll be facing when he comes in at Number 30. I've made my alliances but they're too weak. Now I stand alone and even though the Western Gorilla is traditionally an herbivore, at the Lethal Lottery you're going to see me tear through my opponents. I'm going send pounds of flesh flying. I'm going to destroy the lions, the pumas, the hyenas, the tigers, the rabbits, etc. I'm going to go to Kingdom Come and win the title. For my fans, I'll win. For my family, I'll win. To become more than an afterthought, I'll win. I'll become champion to prove everyone wrong."

"Well I guess that will be everything. Unless you have any more nonsense to ramble on about? I need to get to the airport for my flight."

"No. I'm fine. Go on. Thanks for your time."

As Stacey grabs her stuff and leaves, Brad stays at the bench. He has his hands clasped together and serious focus. The corner of his mouth twitching slightly, he remains focused as the scene leaves him sat there.

 

[The Doctor]

Signal Panic, Inc. presents:
Action Saxton
In
”Things Not Seen”

It is night time in Scott’s Bottom, Wyoming. The sky is a deep, endless blue, dotted by pinpricks of light hidden behind mild cloud coverage. The moon shines brightly, lighting the clouds up, but all in all it is dark outside the place where Action Saxton calls home.

Directly under the moon is Action Saxton’s penthouse apartment, separated from the world by virtue of being in a place that does not exist. Since the break-in, Action Saxton had worked to restore the apartment to its former glory, and was largely successful. The door is fixed. His collection of prized gold-plated diamond bottlecaps has been recovered and is hanging on a wall in the living room. The disco ball has been replaced. The television has been upgraded. Things are slowly but surely going back to normal.

There is one thing unusual about Action Saxton’s apartment tonight, though. Normally the place is for loving and living, a fresh place in town where Action Saxton entertains and boogies down. Tonight, though, the mood is quiet, subdued, with an undercurrent of anticipation. And while there are two beautiful women on his couch in front of the large television, they are not there for Action Saxton’s trademark Night Of One Thousand Pleasures™. Their names are Marceline and B, and they’re here for the good-luck-party.

“Damn, Marce, it’s great to see you again,” Saxton says, as he pours the women drinks. “I’m glad you suckas could join me for tonight.”

“Of course, Sax,” says Marceline, smiling and taking the drink from his hand. “I deserve a vacation from the bar every now and then, and B’s been dying to see your place.”

Her companion smiles, shyly. Action Saxton chuckles.

“Most women are.”

Marceline cocks an eyebrow, but try as she might she can’t hide her amusement at Saxton’s usual antics. She sips her drink as Action Saxton sits next to them and turns to their general direction.

“So, how the hell have you been, Marce? I haven’t seen you since rescuing B from those suckas trying to psyche me out and get at me.”

Marceline’s face darkens at the thought of the kidnapping. Action Saxton continues.

“Don’t worry, Marce, I taught them suckas real good not to mess with you or B again. I’m pretty sure one sucka spat up his solar plexus after I finished with his ass.”

Marceline grins again. “I trust you, Sax. Not enough to actually believe you know what a solar plexus looks like, but enough to know you’ll protect us.”

She squeezes B’s hand that she’s holding. Action Saxton looks indignant.

“Woman, I’ve fought five hundred angry terminator grandmothers in a hospital on the moon, dropping the big elbow on the crazy cafeteria lady because she tried to force-feed me some of her mushroom surprise, and threw the corrupt robot ninja doctor through the window to stop his reign of terror and bring peace to the Moon Men once and for all, and you think I don’t know what a solar plexus looks like? You’re damn crazy.”

Marceline giggles at Action Saxton’s outburst. “Always telling stories. It was always like this, even when we were kids…”

“The best stories are based on real life experiences.”

“Of course. You know I love your stories, Sax.”

“Everyone loves my goddamn stories!” exclaims Action Saxton, pointing a finger into the air. “That’s why I keep telling them!”

He pours more alcohol – only the finest malt whiskey – into the now empty glasses that the three of them have. The friends sit in silence, enjoying the atmosphere and the company. After a while, Marceline starts to talk about life at the bar.

“Business is as good as it always is,” she says. “We have some new regulars – You saw one of them when you were in town.”

“The kid with the motorcycle.”

“The kid’s really sweet, always gives me a little extra even though I can tell he’s struggling to make ends meet. I mean, I do fine for myself and I know you help me out when you can, and I’ve told him he doesn’t have to but maybe it’s the principle of the thing. It gives me and B a bit of money to decorate the apartment, so I can’t complain. He comes in a lot to talk to me about whatever he’s dealing with.”

“You always were good at listening to people.”

Marceline beams. “Thanks, Sax.” She drains her glass. “So, what’s been going on with you?”

“Tomorrow night, I have one of the biggest matches in my wrestling career.”

An impressed silence fills the room at these words. Saxton finishes his drink as well and stands up. Marceline looks at him expectantly as he continues.

“Marce, we’ve been through a lot. Until recently I only told you about my amazing adventures that I have already managed to have even though I am fairly young and at my physical prime. Recently, those suckas took things too far when they got you and B involved.”

Action Saxton reaches behind the television and pulls out an old videocassette. The faded label reads:

Signal Panic, Inc. presents:
Action Saxton
In
“Ring Of Treachery”

“Tonight, Marce, I’m going to finally show you what a real Action Saxton adventure looks like.”

Marceline can’t help herself from squealing girlishly with anticipation. She moves forward on the couch as Action Saxton struggles with the VCR, grumbling to himself all the while.

[size=-3]“That is if the goddamn thing will work why the hell isn’t it going in the damn tape tray oh it’s backwards well who the hell is dumb enough to make a video backwards like this I should kick all of their asses and now why aren’t these buttons responding-[/size] There we go.”

Action Saxton sits back on the couch as the video begins to play, showing a wrestling ring in the middle of a huge jungle. He starts to narrate the adventure to Marceline and B, who are both watching intently.

“I said that the match tomorrow is one of the most important matches in my career. This one is the most important.”

On the screen, Action Saxton’s manly and rugged form is walking down the aisle as angry audience-ninjas and the occasional wild animal boo loudly. A few seconds later, his opponent, a regular ninja, enters the ring.

“In this match, I had to outwrestle thirty suckas in order to overthrow the evil Zangyack tropical ninja empire who were delivering poisonous fruit smoothies to the orphans.”

The Regular Ninja is out, narrowly avoiding a collision with the ninja Lottery’s next entrant as he’s eliminated, a ninja who strangely resembled a knight. It must be a knight-ninja.

“Now if there’s one thing that pisses me off more than anything else in the world, it’s suckas that hurt my friends. And they did a whole lot of that.”

The knight ninja has been joined by a Mexican ninja, not unlike El Habanero but distinct enough for Action Saxton to know that it isn’t his archnemesis. They try to attack Action Saxton but miss, allowing Saxton to pick them up and chokeslam them both.

“I made many friends in the Ninja Wrestling Association Thing, or as I call it NWAT. And by many friends I mean I made one friend. The only good ninja in the whole damn syndicate. Miles Ninja.”

He indicates another ninja who has joined the fray, garbed in a dress shirt and slacks over his ninja outfit. Together, the two clean house, eliminating ten ninjas at once through their kung fu skill.

“The Zangyack boss sent his big baddies after us, but we kept on fighting because we knew it was all we had left. Neither of us could let each other down.

A grotesquely fat ninja jumps the ropes. Action Saxton and Miles Ninja are wailing on it, causing its knees to buckle until he finally collapses into a miserable pile of lard. They hoist him over the top rope and onto the floor.

“And in the end…”

The two men stare at each other.

“There were two.”

Miles Ninja and Action Saxton go at it, knowing that if Miles Ninja’s cover was blown he would be forced to commit seppuku out of a misguided sense of honor. The two friends fought for what seemed like hours, neither wanting to lose the upper hand. Finally, though, Action Saxton throws Miles Ninja over the top rope. The world is saved. The Zangyack has been dissolved. Action Saxton poses heroically in the ring as in his apartment the real Action Saxton stands proudly next to the television, hands on his hips.

“Wow…” Marceline breathes. B looks similarly impressed. “It’s like everything I imagined.”

“Damn, girl, when have I ever been known to lie to you?” says Saxton, smiling for a moment before becoming serious again. “But I showed you this for a reason.”

He stands in front of the television as the credits roll.

“When people see Action Saxton, they see a badass brother unlike any other. I have competed in a match featuring 29 other men including a brother-for-life and I have overcame it. Tomorrow I will be in the Lethal Lottery and I will make damn sure that no fat tub of lard or robot or former world champions will stop me. And even if it comes down to me and my boy Saboteur, I know that neither of us will hold back. We will go at it with all we got but at the end of the day you know it will be Action Saxton standing tall and going to Kingdom Come. Thirty wrestlers ain’t nothing compared to thirty ninjas, and there’s no way in hell anyone’s getting me over that top rope.

Now can you dig that?”

“Yes!” squeals Marceline, clutching B in excitement. “I know you’ll do great, Sax! Kick all of their asses for me!”

“I plan to!” roars Action Saxton, pouring more alcohol for his guests. “And the next time I come to the bar you know I’ll have plenty more stories to tell.”

Marceline smiles in delight, as does B. For the rest of the evening the three of them sit on the couch, talking about this, that, and the other, until it’s finally time to say goodnight. Ever a gracious host, Action Saxton walks them to the door.

“Be sure to come back to the bar soon,” Marceline says. “Me and B have really made the upstairs look great.”

“Hell yeah, Marce, replies Saxton, smiling. “I’ll see you when I’m next in town.”

The friends bid each other adieu. Tomorrow is a big day for Action Saxton. A big day indeed…​

 

[JGlass]

Saboteur is in the back seat of a cargo helicopter with Alvin, legs dangling over the earth thousands of feet below him as the chopper flies over the snowy tundra of Canada. With the side doors open the temperature in the helicopter is quite cool, but Saboteur doesn’t mind: it keeps him alert… focused. And Saboteur needs to be focused, for he’s waiting for a signal that could come at any moment from the ground below him.

Alvin is clutching to the handles on the ceiling of the helicopter for dear life. He’s in no danger of falling– he’s standing with his feet planted firmly in the middle of the helicopter’s floor –but true to his nature he’s very nervous. He knows Saboteur is wrapped up with some very dangerous people, and he regrets ever getting into this mess.

Alvin: How did I ever get into this mess?

Saboteur provides an answer without turning to look at Alvin, as he can’t risk missing the signal.

Saboteur: Bateman made you come to make sure I didn’t take the copter to Vegas.

Alvin: He doesn’t much trust you after you took one of the WZCW 18-wheelers to go to Disney World.

Saboteur: I wanted to rescue all the kids in the Small World ride and I needed somewhere to put them!

Alvin: They’re robots.

Saboteur: Yeah, but they’re kid robots. That has to be against some sort of child labor laws. Besides, that was different. That was for pleasure. This is business.

Alvin: You do seem pretty intent on completing this mission. Are you sure we’re in the right place, though?

Saboteur is annoyed by Alvin’s insolence.

Saboteur: Of course I’m sure! The informant specifically said they’d launch the signal in this area.

Alvin: I know… but we’ve been circling the same spot for the past ten minutes… and it’s getting close to 9:15, and you said we’d see the signal exactly at 9.

Saboteur is fed up with Alvin’s questions, and finally stands up to confront his nebbish companion.

Saboteur: Oh, I’m sorry Alvin, I didn’t realize you were an expert on running extraction missions! I thought for sure I was the one that served in militaries and militias on 6 different continents, but I must have confused myself with you.

As Saboteur berates Alvin, a red signal flare flies through the sky behind him.

Alvin: Um, Saboteur…

Saboteur: Don’t interrupt me you ignorant shrimp! I’ve been on missions like these a hundred times before, don’t you think I know what I’m doing by now?! And let’s not forget, I’m the one in charge, you’re just my side kick.

Another signal is launched behind Saboteur, but this time, it comes with a loud bang as a firework explodes behind him, shaking the chopper ever so slightly.

Alvin: Saboteur…

Saboteur: And furthermore, I’m already stressed out enough! If everything doesn’t go according to plan, we could all die. Do you want that? Do you want everyone to die? Because if that’s the case, by all means keep bothering me about whatever garbage pops into your head, because at the very least I could throw you out of the helicopter and YOU can die!

A third signal explodes behind Saboteur, another firework, this time exploding into a message.

Alvin: Saboteur! The signal!

Saboteur stops his rant and looks over his shoulder.

“Down Here, Idiot!” the signal reads.

Saboteur: Oh! Right!

And then his voice drops to a more serious tone.

Saboteur: It’s time for some fools to die.

Saboteur jumps out of the plane and begins plummeting to earth. The ground grows closer and closer as he descends, and he needs to wait for the exact moment to pull his parachute chord. Too soon and he makes himself an easy target for whatever surveillance may be waiting for him on the ground; too late and he’ll surely crash into the ground and suffer devastating injuries, if not death. His hand clutches the chord, waiting for the precise moment as his mind wanders back in time.

-----Two Days Ago----

Saboteur sits in a dark room on a wooden chair, staring intently at something off camera.

Saboteur: We’ve been at this for days now. I’m pretty impressed that you’ve lasted this far. You must be getting hungry.

There is no response.

Saboteur: No? Well, some men can get by on just water, however dirty it may be. What I’m really surprised is you’ve been able to survive the torture. You have much more willpower than I expected. It looks like it’s about time we get started again.

Saboteur looks down at his wrist. He’s not wearing a watch. He looks back up and smirks at the men.

Saboteur: You seem nervous? What? Are you finally growing weary of this? Well… until you tell me what I want to hear, I really have no choice but to continue. Are you ready?

Saboteur pulls out some sort of remote control device and hits a button. A few seconds pass before a familiar piano piece is blasting from the loud speakers.

Speakers: JUST A SMALL TOWN GIRL… LIVIN’ IN A LONELY WORLD… SHE TOOK THE MIDNIGHT TRAIN GOIN’ ANYWHERE!

Voice: ARGGGGH! I CAN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE!

Voice 2: Once was fine! It’s a catchy song. Even the second time wasn’t so bad! But then you played it again and again and again… IT’S SO TACKY AND UNINSPIRED! MAKE IT STOP! PLEASE MAKE IT STOP!

The camera spins around to reveal it’s Keith and Shelton, bound to a pipe in a dark room, struggling to escape. Saboteur turns the music down slightly so he can communicate with his prisoners.

Saboteur: You know how to make it stop! Tell me where Garrett is!

Keith: We don’t know! All we did was kidnap him and hand him off to someone else! We were just the middlemen!

Saboteur quickly turns the sound back up.

Speaker: STRANGERS. WAITING. UP AND DOWN THE BOULEVARD!

Shelton quickly interjects.

Shelton: The car had Canadian license plates! They’re taking him to Canada!

Saboteur: Canada, eh? Canada’s a pretty big place. I’m going to need you to be a little more specific. I would hate to have to change the song to RUSH!

Keith: NO! Please not Rush! They’re going to Medicine Hat! An area just north of it called Old Channel Lake!

Saboteur: Excellent, that’s all I needed to know.

Keith and Shelton exchange a look of relief. It seems they may be free from the tyrannous reign Journey has been holding over their eardrums for the better part of the past 60 hours.

Speaker: DON’T STOP! BELIEVIN’! HOLD ONTO THAT FEEEEEEELIN’!

Keith and Shelton shriek in pain. Shelton’s ears literally start bleeding.

Keith: Why!? We told you where he is!

Saboteur yells over the music.

Saboteur: I want to know who!

Keith: We don’t know!

Saboteur cranks the music up even louder and screams at the top of his lungs.

Saboteur: WHO?

Keith is crying.

Keith: I don’t know! He didn’t give us his name, but I think I heard one of his men say it. It started with… I think it started with an H. Ha… Haba… Haba something!

Saboteur shuts the music off suddenly. The captives breath deep breaths of relief as Saboteur turns around to have a private moment.

Saboteur: Haba… it can’t be…

Saboteur whips his head around and addresses the hostages.

Saboteur: That’s all I needed to know. Thank you.

Keith: So… we’re free to go? We can just go back to life as usual now?

Saboteur: Not quite.

The camera cuts to two men wearing lucha masks being tossed out of the back of a van. They pick themselves up off the ground and dust themselves off.

Shelton: Where do you suppose we are, Keith?

Keith: Well, it looks like we’re in the Pine Barrens. Why do you suppose Saboteur dumped us here? Poetic justice?

Shelton: It’s no biggie, we know how to get to the highway from here. Come on let’s go.

Shelton turns to look at Keith, but finds that his partner has suddenly vanished. Cautiously he whimpers.

Shelton: …Keith?

Suddenly a large beast swoops down from the tree tops and grabs Shelton in its claws. It has the head of a horse, face of a dog, hooves of a deer, wings, claws, and a thin long tail. It flies back into the air, clutching its two victims in its claws.

Kravinoff suddenly appears running through the woods with a spear, screaming a primal yell as he chases the New Jersey Devil.

-----Present Day-----

Saboteur hits the snow covered Canadian ground and a puff of fresh white powder flies up in the air, leaving Saboteur surrounded by a thick white cloud. As the snow settles back down to the earth, Saboteur sees the contact waiting for him.

“Well well well, look who decided to finally drop in.”

Saboteur looks at the contact carefully.

Saboteur: Aren’t you a little cold?

The camera spins to reveal Action Saxton, clothed only in a pair of boots, track pants, and a sleeveless shirt.

Saxton: Sucka please! When you look this hot, it’s impossible to be cold!

Saboteur: Well, we better get going, those fireworks are sure to attract our friends.

Saxton: Yeah, I oughta smack you upside the head for makin’ me use them fireworks! Lethal Lottery is comin’ up, and I need these hands for throwin’ some suckas over the top rope! I can’t be blowin’ my fingers off!

Saboteur: Lethal Lottery? Hell, with what we’re facing tonight, we’ll be lucky to make it back to the Lottery alive.

Saxton is taken aback.

Saxton: Saboteur you seem so… focused… like a Shaolin Monk. I don’t know if that’s a good color on you.

Saboteur ignores Saxton and gathers his bearings.

Saboteur: If I’m correct, I think the kidnapper’s secret base is that way.

Saboteur points to the right and he and Saxton set off in that direction. There is little on the frozen tundra of Canada– just a few shrubs that have managed to grow against all odds –but the darkness has quickly fallen over the Great White North, and Saboteur and Saxton only have the moon and stars to guide them. They walk about 50 feet before Saxton stops Saboteur.

Saxton: Did you hear that?

Saboteur: Hear what?

There is a distinct sound of heavy footsteps.

Saboteur whispers to Saxton...

Saboteur: I think we’ve been spotted.

Saxton: I’m ready to rumble mo-sucka…

Saboteur and Saxton quickly turn around, Saboteur wielding his death-dealing katana, Saxton wielding his equally dangerous fists. However, they are shocked to see that they are still all by themselves.

Saxton: Hmm, musta been the wind.

Saboteur: I’m suddenly getting that feeling that I get when someone is standing dangerously close behind me without me noticing…

Saboteur and Saxton slowly turn around to see a grizzly bear standing on its hind-legs. The beast towers over them at 7 feet tall. He opens his mouth to let out a beastly roar as Saxton and Saboteur cower in fear.

Bear: OH HI GUYS! I’m so happy you came to visit my home!

Saxton and Saboteur slowly ease up before exchanging looks of bewilderment.

Bear: Oh, you guys don’t speak English? Parlez vous francais?

Saxton is the first to break the ice.

Saxton: Nah… we American. We speak English…

Saboteur: We’re just surprised to see that you do.

The bear shouts all of its words quickly in a monotone, but excited voice.

Bear: Oh sure I speak lots of English! I learned from watching wrestling on the TV box in the home of the family I mauled. Say you guys look awful familiar, do you wrestle on the TV box?

Saboteur: Uh… yeah. I’m Saboteur and this is Action Saxton.

The bear throws his arms around the pair of heroes and squeezes them tight.

Bear: Oh boy! I get to meet two real American heroes! I’m so happy I could kill a deer!

Saboteur is trapped in the bear’s strong arms, but the powerful Action Saxton manages to pull away.

Saxton: Look, I hate to turn down a fan, but we’re on a mission. We gots to find some bad ass mothas that kidnapped my partner’s roommate.

The bear lets go of Saboteur, who woozily catches his breath.

Bear: Oh! The Canadian Ninja Kidnapping Soceity! I know where they hang out!

Saboteur snaps out of his oxygen deprived stupor.

Saboteur: Wait… you know where they are? You know who they are?

Bear: Oh yeah sure, I pick through their garbage all the time. They sure throw out a lot of bacon.

Saboteur: Well… can you take us there?

Bear: Yeah sure, but my friends and I already ate their trash this morning, there probably won’t be any left for you. They live over that way.

The bear points in the opposite direction of where Saboteur and Saxton stand.

Bear: Let’s get going! If we get there soon there might be some garbage left for you to eat!

Saxton and Saboteur start walking off with the bear.

Bear: Hey my name is Henry by the way!

Saboteur: … Henry?

Bear: Yeah, it’s a family name.

-----Yesterday-----

Bateman: Are you sure about this Saboteur?

Saboteur: I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t sure, Bateman.

Saboteur is leaning against the wall in Bateman’s office as the GM of Ascension leans on his desk writing down some figures on a notepad.

Bateman: I still don’t see why you were so resistant to accept my help, Saboteur. I hope you know I see you as a tremendous asset in our war against Ty Burna and his Apostles.

Bateman signs a check and hands it to Saboteur. Saboteur quickly and angrily snatches it out of his hand.

Saboteur: An asset? I’m not a share of a stock you can sell off when you need a cash infusion, Bateman. And I hope you know that this is just a simple business transaction. Once I have Garrett back, you and I are done.

Saboteur turns to walk out of Bateman’s office, but before he can get to the door Bateman runs over and blocks the exit.

Bateman: Not so fast Saboteur. I’m helping you out in a major way here, and I’m not a man that just hands out money for charity all willy nilly.

Saboteur sarcastically replies…

Saboteur: You’re a real humanitarian, huh?

Bateman ignores Saboteur.

Bateman: So when I call on you to return the favor, you will do as I say.

Saboteur shoulders his way through Bateman and opens the door.

Saboteur: Don’t count on it, Vance.

Bateman calls after Saboteur as he walks down the hall.

Bateman: Oh, you will. I can make sure of that, Saboteur. I can make sure of that.

-----Present Day-----

Saboteur and Saxton walk directly behind Henry, who has lead them deeper and deeper into the barren Canadian tundra.

Saxton: We been walkin’ for miles man, and Action Saxton is getting’ hungry.

Saboteur: Yeah, are you sure you know where we’re going Henry?

Henry: Look over there!

Henry’s nose points toward the horizon, and a dim light can be seen glowing. Saboteur and Saxton turn to each other and start to run towards it.

Henry: Wait for me!

Henry gallops along after the duo, and before they know it they see the source of the light: a massive compound composed of a guard tower, a massive bunker, and an airplane hangar.

Saxton whispers to the group...

Saxton: It looks pretty heavily guarded. You know Saxton is all abouts makin’ an entrance, but I think this time it might be cool if we made our way in there like a couple of stealthy mo suckas.

Saboteur: I agree, but I left my Canadian Ninja Kidnapping Society costumes in my other pants, so the Trojan Horse entrance is out.

Saxton: That’s aight, ain’t no Trojan that can fit me anyway.

Saboteur: I suppose if we hike around the mountains to the back over there, we could sneak in through a valley or maybe find their drainage system and sneak in through the sewers, but we won’t get there before sunrise.

Henry: Hey guys! I know a secret entrance to the base! Come with me!

Henry takes off running along the edge of the crevasse, and after exchanging a puzzled look and a shrug, Saboteur and Saxton chase after him. After a 60 second run, the trio finds themselves standing on the edge of a steep slope.

Saxton: So what’s the plan Henry?

Henry: We go down!

Saboteur: We go down? That hill is to steep for us to walk down, and it goes right past the guard tower!

Henry: I’ll show you how!

And with that, Henry pushes Saboteur down the hill and Saboteur starts rolling down the hill, kicking up all sorts of snow as he goes.

Saxton looks on in horror and then back to Henry.

Saxton: Oh helllllll naw! I ain’t goin’ down like that!

Henry stands on his hind legs and starts walking towards Saxton with an eager look on his face. Saxton responds by getting in a fighting stance.

Saxton: I’ll have you know, Mr. Bear, I’m a three time World Champion Bear Wrestler. Bring it you big brown sucka!

Henry goes back to all fours and looks at Saxton, defeated. He turns around and slowly starts to walk away. Saxton puts down his fists and nods cockily.

Saxton: Yeah, that’s what I thought. Smartest move you ever…

But before Saxton can finish his sentence, Henry turns around and charges Saxton, lunging at him and tackling him down the slope. Henry proceeds to ride Saxton down the slope like a sled.

Saxton: Get your stinkin’ paws off me you damn, dirty bear!

Saxton and Henry reach the bottom of the mountain and get up.

Saxton: Damn bear, you crazy! Saboteur, remind me never to trust friendly forest critters anymore! … Saboteur?

But there is no answer. Saxton looks around, puzzled, unable to find the whereabouts of his friend.

Henry: Maybe he went to find the garbage. I can smell it from here, and there’s definitely some leftover bacon!

Saxton: Shut yo’ mouth fool! You gonna tip off the guards!

Saboteur’s head pops up from the ground as he shakes off some snow.

Saboteur: That… was NOT a good idea.

Henry: Hey, we’re down here aren’t we?

“Si amigos, you are! But soon, you’ll be getting down THERE!”

Saxton and Saboteur stiffen at the sound of the familiar voice.

Saxton: Speaking Mexican?

Saboteur: Horrible wordplay?

Saxton: A voice more annoying than an Armando Paradyse promo!

Saboteur and Saxton together: It’s El Habanero!

Habanero reveals himself from the shadows as he stands high above his prey on the steps of the guard tower.

Habanero: Of COURSE it’s El Habanero! The most fantastico Mexican ninja of all time! And now I have got you here in my elaborate Canadian trap!

Saxton: So it was you who kidnapped Garrett! I shoulda known!

Saboteur: No… he’s just a player in this scheme. Habanero isn’t smart enough to pull of a plan like this.

Habanero: Not smart enough! I’ll have you know I scored perfectly on my SATs!

Saboteur: Yeah, on your Mexican SATs.

Habanero: Oooohhh you make me so enfado. Mexican Ninjas! Attack!

From seemingly nowhere, an army of ninjas in brightly colored outfits springs into action, but the group suddenly loses its confidence at the sight of Henry.

Habanero: What are you waiting for? Attack!

One of the ninjas leans over to Habanero and whispers something to him.

Habanero: What’s that? The bear? I don’t care if it’s a bear! I said ATTACK!

The ninjas cautiously surround Saboteur, Saxton, and Henry, weapons drawn. They slowly approach the trio, but every one of the heroes can see the fear in the ninjas’ eyes. That’s all that they need to launch a counter attack.

Within a blink of the eye Saboteur has his katanas drawn and has used his superior swordsmanship to disarm every single one of the ninjas. From there, Saxton starts delivering powerful punches and chops to his foes, and Henry starts swinging his claws at the ninjas. Within seconds, the entire army of Mexican ninjas lay defeated.

Saxton and Saboteur turn to Habanero.

Saboteur: It’s your turn now, HabanZero.

Saxton: Really? That’s the best you could come up with?

Habanero: You’ll never take me alive! You’ll have to catch me first.

Habanero jumps from the guard tower and hits the ground running towards the bunker. Saboteur and Saxton quickly give chase, but stop when they notice Henry isn’t following them.

Saboteur: Henry, aren’t you coming?

Henry: Nah, I’ve had enough excitement for today. Besides, their garbage isn’t going to eat itself!

Saboteur: Well, then I guess it was nice meeting you. Thanks for your help.

Saxton: Come on sucka! He’s getting away!

Saboteur snaps back to the issue at hand and takes off after Habanero.

Habanero bursts into the entrance of the bunker, and shuts the large, metal door behind him and seals it with the large deadbolt to prevent his intruders from following him.

Habanero: Phew! Let’s see those losers break into the Impenetrable Canadian Fortress of Doom™!

No sooner did Habanero utter these words than did Saxton and Saboteur burst through the two windows installed on either side of the door.

Habanero: Damn! Who installs glass windows into an Impenetrable Canadian Fortress of Doom™!

Saxton: Get back here El HabaNobody.

Saboteur: Really? You think that’s better than El Habanero?

Habanero takes off running again, and again the heroes take off after him.

They dash through the halls of the bunker, trying to lose Saxton and Saboteur as he zig-zags through its halls, but its all for naught as the duo continues to catch up with him.

Habanero: I’m almost there! I’m almost to the safe room!

Habanero takes a hard left at the end of the hall and disappears behind the wall. Saxton and Saboteur prepare to do the same, but when they turn the corner, all they see is a large, wooden door. On it is a sign that says, “Personal Only. Not Masked and/or Black Wrestlers.”

Saxton: I gots a good mind to call the good Reverend and march on these suckas’ asses.

Saboteur: Saxton… I’m pretty sure that whatever is behind this door is what I’ve been looking for. This could get pretty gruesome, and possibly deadly. You sure you wanna go in there?

Saxton: Hell, I ain’t Cut and Run Saxton… I’m ACTION Saxton.

Saboteur: Alright, on the count of three…

1…
2…
3!

Saboteur and Saxton burst through the door, weapons drawn, ready to fight… but are shocked to find themselves in darkness. The door closes behind them, shutting out what little light there was, leaving them in total blackness.

Suddenly, a dim light flashes on in the distance, and Saboteur can see Garrett tied to a chair. He hears his screams from afar.

Garrett: Saboteur?! Is that you?! Help!

Saboteur sees his best friend in peril and reacts on instinct. He takes of running towards Garrett. But our masked hero runs no more than a few feet before he is suddenly and mysteriously taken down, and he hits the floor hard.

Saxton: What the hell is this bit?

Saxton marches forward to help his companion.

“Don’t move Americanski!”

In a blinding flash of light the room is illuminated. As Saxton and Saboteur’s eyes adjust to the light, they see they are surrounded my dozens of AK-47 wielding ninjas dressed in red outfits. Two men move through the crowd: one: the flamboyantly dressed El Habanero; the other is dressed more simply. He has a red ski mask on with a beige colored spandex suit, but with a bear fur cape to compliment the ensemble.

Saboteur: Comrade Habanputzki, I knew it was you.

Habanputzki: Yes Saboteur, it is I, the great Comrade Habanputzki that kidnapped your stupid American roommate and held him hostage here. And look at you, you fell right into my trap! Bless Mother Russia and the Soviet Union!

Comrade Habanputzki’s minions give a Soviet Salute in honor of their leader’s brilliance.

Saxton: Wait a sec… Comrade Habanputzki? El Habanero? Why are you two working together?

Habanero: Isn’t it obvious, stupido? We are cousins! And just as Habanputzki aided me in my plot to blow up the soft shell tortilla factory, it is my turn to aid him in his evil schemes!

Saboteur: But why did you do it, Habanputzki? I thought we were even after what happened in Bosnia…

-----22 Years Ago-----

Saboteur: Yo dude, don’t order the Kung Pow Chicken. My friend ate that last week and he had the runs for days!

Habanputzki: Thank you comrade! This has saved Mother Russia many rolls of toilet paper!

-----Present Day-----

Saboteur: Who are you working for? Tell me who you’re working for Habanputzki!

Habanputzki laughs, and so his men laugh with him.

Habanputzki: You are in no position to be making demands right now Saboteur. All I hate to do is wave my hand, and my men will unload hundred thousand rounds into your thick American skull. But I will tell you who I work for nonetheless. Are you ready?

Saboteur shakes with anxiousness, anger, and excitement. He wants to hear one man’s name, if for nothing else, than to justify his frantic behavior the last few months.

Habanputzki: Joseph Stalin.

Saboteur explodes in his response.

Saboteur: He’s been dead for like, 50 years! How are you working for him!

Habanputzki: He came to me in a dream. He said kidnap Saboteur’s roommate, and I will reward you by bringing glorious communism back to Russia! It is only a matter of time before the Berlin Wall is rebuilt and the Soviet Block is once again impenetrable. Long live Stalin! Long live Communism!

Habanputzki’s men give another Soviet salute.

Saboteur hops to his feet quickly and punches Habanputzki in the nose. The men are taken aback as Habanputzki falls to the ground clutching his face as blood drips between his fingers.

Habanputzki: I bleed red with pride for Mother Russia! Men, make Saboteur do the same.

The Communist Ninjas aim their weapons at Saboteur and Saxton and pull the triggers. There’s no hope for Saboteur and Saxton, this is certainly the end.

They say everything becomes clearer to you right before you die. You can see even the most minute details of the room you’re in, you can smell a flower from a mile away, taste what you had for dinner two nights ago, and hear a pin drop. All Saboteur could hear was the sound of 30 clicks.

Saboteur looks around and sees 30 Communist Ninjas looking at their AK-47s, puzzled at what went wrong.

Habanero: I TOLD you those things wouldn’t work! They haven’t been fired since 1952!

Habanputzki: Ignorant capitalist! AK-47 is superior weaponry! Mother Russia’s guns always work!

Saboteur nods to Saxton, and Saxton has that look in his eye. The duo spring into action. Saboteur unsheathes his katanas and starts swinging them around like a whirlwind. Pieces of AK-47s are flying everywhere, and just as quickly as he whipped out the two swords, he put them away in favor of his hands and feet. He punches the lights out of one Commie Ninja and follows that up by knocking the teeth out of another one’s mouth with a powerful roundhouse kick to the face. Another one tries to sneak up on him, but he swings an elbow into the ninja’s gut before following that up with an uppercut.

Meanwhile, Action Saxton is showing the Communists how cold American justice works. He picks one ninja up and throws him into a crowd of ninjas before charging them and diving into the pile, where he pulls up two ninjas by the necks and strangles them with one hand each.

Within a matter of minutes, Saxton and Saboteur have finished what can only be described as a McCarthy Wet Dream as 30 communist ninjas lay lifeless across the floor of the room. Habanputzki and Habanero are nowhere to be found.

Habanputzki: You make have defeated my army, but you are about to lose the war nonetheless, Saboteur!

Habanputzki stands next to Garrett with a gun pointed to his temple.

Habanero: Cousin, are you sure about this? Usually I just like to create… you know… comic mischief.

Habanputzki: And that is why you fail! I will make Mother Russia glorious again, it is my destiny! Any last words you would like to say to your friend, Saboteur?

“ROAR!”

Habanputzki freezes in his spot, terrified at the sound he just heard.

Habanero: What was that?!? Habanputzki! Shoot him!

But Habanputzki doesn’t move, he’s frozen in fear! And to make matters worse, Henry bursts through the wall, foaming at the mouth.

Henry: There was no bacon! NO BACON MAKES ME ANGRY!

Henry swipes at Habanputzki and knocks the Communist Ninja Leader right on his ass. Saboteur takes the opportunity to run over, grab the gun from Habanputzki, and throw it into the Canadian winter. He then turns around and stomps on Habanputzki’s stomach, setting the Russian upright, and follows that with a devastating knee to the face, knocking him out.

Habanero: Well, it’s about time I get to going then. Adios amigos!

Saxton: Not so fast sucka!

Saxton winds up and delivers a punch to Habanero that sends him flying through the Canadian night sky.

Saxton: Someone grab me a tape measure, I wanna see if I broke my own personal record for Mexican sky punching.

A blaring siren sounds.

Saboteur: I don’t think we’re going to have time, we gotta get Garret untied and get out of here.

Saboteur quickly cuts through the rope that bound Garrett to the chair, and helps lift his friend from the chair.

Saboteur: Garrett! I missed you so much ol’ buddy ol’ pal!

Saboteur throws his arms around Garrett embracing him in a hug, which is quite the surprise to Garrett.

Saboteur: Did they hurt you? Did they make you listen to Jounrey? Did they do weird stuff to your butt?

Garrett sees an army of ninjas making their way from the guard tower to the bunker, and decides it would be best to discuss this later.

Garrett: Can we discuss this later? I think we should try to avoid getting in a fight with the gun carrying ninjas.

Saboteur: Hmmm, good point. Autobots! Roll out!

The four men take off running from the bunker and head towards the airplane hangar.

Saxton: Why are we heading towards the hangar?

Saboteur: Maybe there’s a jeep there or something that we can hotwire to get out of here!

The men reach the hangar well before the ninjas, but are deflated when all that is there is a small skywriting plane.

Saboteur: Well… I guess we’re going to have to fight.

Saxton: Suits me just fine. I could take on Canadian Ninjas all day long!

Garrett: There’s like a hundred of them. And they have guns. Real guns, not ones that haven’t been fired since the 50s.

Saxton: That’s okay, all I gots ta do is flash this trophy winning smile, and them ninjas will be too charmed to do smack.

Garrett: No. They are trained killers. Smile or no, they are going to shoot you.

Saxton: I don’t like your tone sucka!

Saboteur: Guys! We really need to come up with a plan here!

Henry: Hey guys, you should hop in before those ninjas get here!

Henry is sitting in the cockpit of the skywriting plane, and has the propellers going, ready to take off.

The remaining trio looks at each other for a brief moment before wildly sprinting for the plane. They all hop into the back seat, and after a brief scramble, manage to squeeze into the tiny chair.

Saboteur: Go Henry! Go!

The plane lurches forward, not used to carrying so much weight, but continues to taxi down the air strip. The ninjas have made their way into the hangar and start to fire their guns at the plane. The heroes duck as the plane continues down the runway.

Saxton: God dammit bear! Let’s get in the air!

Henry: Just a few more seconds.

Saboteur flips a switch in the back, leaving a giant trail of cloudy dust behind them.

The ninjas stop chasing after the plane, unable to make it through the thick cloud without coughing and gasping for air.

As the ninjas give up their chase, the plane lifts into the air, and soon the compound is nothing more than a tiny speck on the ground.

Saxton: Hell yeah! That’s what I’m talkin’ ‘bout! We did it!

Henry: I don’t really know what happened… but hooray!

Saboteur turns to Garrett to have a private moment.

Saboteur: Garrett… I’m sorry you got dragged into this. I didn’t think that they would go this far. I thought they just wanted me.

Garrett: I know it’s not your fault Saboteur, you did everything you could to protect us. But hey, everything worked out okay, right? But what are you going to do about the Leathal Lottery?

Saboteur: The what? Oh yeah! That match on Sunday. Well, I did just defeat a few dozen ninjas, but that’s not the point. The point is… I have everything I want right now. Friends, a pet bear, and a great wrestling career. If I win… I win. I’ll face whoever at Kingdom Come, but I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: I’m not in this for the titles, I’m in it to do the right thing, and right now the right thing is getting home safe, and getting well rested so I can put on a show for my fans on Sunday. And I guarantee you, there will be all sorts of madness and mayhem come Sunday.

The camera fades to black as the plane flies off into the distance.

 

[Ty Burna]

The scene opens to a grand hall. Chandeliers adorn the ceiling, brightly illuminating the hall, the lighting creating an eerie glow down around the raised platform at the end of the room. Atop the platform sits a large obsidian throne, the cool rock seem to be imbued with what appears to be skulls and others skeletal remains. If one were to listen carefully, one would even believe that they could hear wailing cries emitting from the skulls themselves, though their jaws remain unchanged, just the feeling of madness slowly easing itself into the listener's mind, however the madness would disappear, the feeling of dread and wonderment replace the madness shortly there after as they would gaze upon the throne's occupant, the eternally wicked mastermind that leads the Apostles of Chaos, the one that controls Meltdown with an iron fist, the man that has brought his own dominance and will to control those below him in WZCW. That man, is none other than Ty Burna. His cold steel gaze stares directly out as his rogue like lady Serafina stands next to him, her eyes turned towards her master, her usually quiet demeanor changed to that of one wishing to converse, something not lost upon the King of Darkness himself.

Serafina: Master, they have been in their cells for days now. Are you certain that this method will work?

The harbinger of Chaos does not move, nor does he signal his attentions to his associate, yet his eyes dart quickly up and catch her gaze with his own. A wicked smile begins to slowly form on the demented one's face and a low laughter begins to emit from him. Serafina tries to divert her gaze, yet her master's stare contains more then just intensity, it contains the power to keep his target exactly where he wants them, powerless to refuse to his attention. As Serafina shudders in almost pure ecstasy at her master's imposing will, he responds, quickly and sharply.

Ty: The Apostles will understand the concept of being trapped with no allies. They will understand exactly what I went through for years, trapped at the hands of those that treated me as a science experiment. While they will have the advantage of not having to withstand the torture, they will realize what it is like to be alone. The realization that they cannot rely on pure numbers will make their appreciation for what I have put together even greater, and their thirst for destruction exceeding even what I had hoped for.

Serafina, still under the hypnosis of her master's gaze, nods absentmindedly, a smile forming on her face as her head tilts back, her eyes closing as if Ty himself willed her into such a trance. Satisfied with this little game, the soothsayer stands slowly, his black boots causing the eroded oak flooring below him to creak. He snaps his fingers, the sound echoing throughout the hall as Serafina suddenly shakes her head and comes back to reality. As her master makes his way swiftly down the stairs, she watches him momentarily, taking in his appearance. A perfectly tailored black suit with red pinstripes, a red tie to match. His long black hair is tied back, creating a more reserved, business like look to him. A moment of doubt crosses her mind, is this the same man she has followed for so long? Is his vendetta against his co owner Vance Bateman inhibiting his ability to be the greatest warrior in WZCW? The seed of doubt soon passes, but it's effects still linger in her mind as she quickly bounds down the steps and steps in stride with her master. The two make their way to a door that is barricaded by a rusted iron gate. As Ty stands to the side, she reaches within her cloak and produces a key just as rusted as the gate. She slides the key into the proper location and twists it, a loud click announcing that the two may enter whatever abyss this gate may lead to. Ty opens the gate and the two begin to make their way down the spiral staircase when Serafina suddenly stops.

Master, I must know. Are you truly in the right state of mind to compete in the Lottery? You have been so busy interjecting yourself in everything else, and I have heard you speak of claiming your world title match, yet I do not sense that hunger or that pas...

Just as Serafina is about to continue her questioning, she could feel that cold chill run up her spine reminiscent when her master has been truly angered. She shivers as he turns his head slowly towards her, his eyes glowing fiercely red and a snarl playing upon his lips. He takes one steps towards her and she immediately flinches, closing her eyes as she prepares for the backlash.

Do you wish to question my goals Serafina?! Out of all those that I have surrounded myself with, I never would have thought it to be you that would blatantly question my desire to regain the title that rightfully belongs to me!

As she opens her eyes and dares to look towards her master, she finds him just inches away from her, towering over her lithe frame, his eyes staring right through her. She clears her throat, yet secretly inside of her, a certain type of, well one could call it joy or happiness but in this sadistic "family" it certainly would not seem that way, more along the lines of a dark, ecstatic rush as she listens to her master berate her. There still remains the monster inside the suit, something that she needed to verify for her own assurance. She turns and nods her head before lowering it, submitting herself once more and any air of defiance quickly leaving her.

I'm, I'm sorry master. I have just been concerned is all. I only want you to succeed, and with nothing but yes men surrounding you as of late, I wanted to make sure that your mind was in the right place.

The one who calls himself Chaos Incarnate studies her for a few moments, noting the submission to his will that he had imposed immediately. He nods his head yet his disposition doesn't seem to change much. He turns and continues his descent down the staircase. His companion raises her head back up, relieved not to be admonished any further, she quickly follows suit. The two of them reach the bottom of the stairs and reach another iron gate. This time however Serafina steps back, allowing her master room. He raises his arms and a Celtic invocation begins to enunciate from him as a large symbol begins to glow on the gate. As the invocation ends, the gate shatters in front of them, small bands of iron and steel falling at his feet. He immediately continues his path towards into the nether regions of whatever dwelling he has claimed as his own. The hallway leads into a rather large area, with 3 separate corridors splitting off from the main area. Cobblestones click under the weight of each step, almost mimicking the sound of the dripping water escaping the pipework. A large rat runs just in front of his feet, yet not even eliciting even a sidestep from the monster it dared to cross paths with. In the middle of the area stands a tall wooden post, connecting ceiling to ground yet seemingly not providing any support to the crumbling brick above him. A large nail can be seen hammered into the upper portion of the beam, a metal ring with 4 key can be seen hanging from the nail. Without wasting any motion, he walks past and grabs the key ring off the nail and makes a quick right down the first corridor. Prison cells can be seen aligning each side of the corridor, their metal bars corroding and covered in rust. It truly is amazing they are still holding together even at this advanced stage of degradation. Ty walks down the corridor until turning at the sixth cell. He peers inside before inserting the key, one could just barely make out the frame of a human residing in the cell.

Are you prepared Dr. Alhazred?

The doctor slowly looks up, revealing dark circles under his eyes, yet a fire could be seen within his eyes, burning with hatred as he gazes at the leader of his group. A loud cackle escapes Ty as he slides the first key, unlocking the cell and entering it. Alhazred sits on a decrepit chair, his eyes never leaving Ty as he sits opposite him on a cold cement slab, devoid of any padding or mattress. Ty leans forward, resting his head on his fist as he studies the insanity slowly taking hold in his charge.

I see you have adjusted to the darkness quite well Alhazred. Good.

Alhazred: Why are we down here Ty? What are you trying to prove?

I want to see if your wills will break under the silence, I want to see your fortitude, to withstand elements that are beyond your control. Do you now see what I once went through Alhazred? This is what I lived in for years as they attempted to dissect me, to see what made me tick inside Alhazred. You have it easy merely fasting and left to your own thoughts. Regardless, this is a test for my Apostles.

Ty goes silent as he studies him further as Alhazred grits his teeth, attempting not to lash out at his leader. A maniacal smile forms on Ty's face as he watches the anger building inside of him.

Good. You have wanted to speak your mind for some time now Alhazred.

Ty spreads his arms out as he leans back, his eyes flashing red momentarily. Alhazred has not moved at all since the conversation began, other than his free hand absentmindedly adjusting and readjusting the Power Glove.

You kicked out the one person I considered a friend. And for what? He wasn't up to your standards? The Forgotten Powers were the most power tag team in WZCW and you threw that away!

Alhazred suddenly stands up and glares down at Ty before slamming his gloved fist into the brick right next to Ty's head. The response the young disciple was hoping for does not come however as Ty remains staring forward, the smile remaining on his face.

James was holding you back Alhazred.

Bullshit! You saw an opportunity to simply replace him with someone you believed to be better and you jumped at it.

Ty tilts his head as his eyes slowly move up to look at Alhazred, the maniacal smile slowly fading as he replies.

If that were the case Alhazred, I would have simply brought Toyota in as another piece to the puzzle. It is simple, James was the weak link in the Apostles. I turned our weakest link into one of our strongest parts of the chain. Not doing so would be a disservice to you and Chris K.O. if I were not to bolster the group with the power that Wasabi Toyota brings. You have reaped the benefits of that yourself Dr. Alhazred.

Ty slowly stands and the two agents of Chaos stand face to face, the anger not dissipating from Alhazred's face as Ty stares back stoically. Alhazred removes his hand from the crater his punch had created in the wall. He lowers his head, his breathing becoming heavy as he tries to control his rage.

He.....he was injured. A couple weeks of rest and the Powers would have reclaimed the Tag Team titles in your name. Yet you threw that opportunity away! Why?

I did so to loosen the anchor that you were dragging along with you Alhazred. I have seen the rage that festers inside of you. Even now you are failing to contain it within yourself. It is why I have left you trapped inside this cell. I want that rage to build, I want to slowly rise up inside of you, and at the Lethal Lottery I want you deliver the utter destruction that you are capable of upon our enemies. Strike after strike as each opponent falls to your technological prowess. Your mind is your greatest asset Alhazred. You have built your own weaponry and also have added in that robot to your arsenal. Use them to your fullest capabilities Alhazred.

Ty stares at Alhazred for a few moments before side stepping him and exiting the cell, leaving the door open. Alhazred doesn't follow him but remains standing, his head lowered to his chest as he lets the words sink in. Ty begins walking but stops in the corridor, turning his head to look over his shoulder.

Go. I will not see you again until the Lethal Lottery Alhazred. Prepare yourself, together we shall deliver penance upon the nonbelievers, and Chaos will burn brightly!

Ty begins walking away immediately as the camera loses sight of Alhazred in the cell. Ty returns to the main area before turning down the second corridor, again cells lining up on both sides of him. He stops in front of a selected cell, a hulking figure can be seen sitting upon the cement slab, his eyes focused forward. Ty watches the figure intently before speaking just as before.

Wasabi

Toyota: What do you want Ty?

A moment if you will.

The hulking figure looks up, this time not a look of anger, but a look of determination upon this Apostle's face. Ty nods his head in respect to the monstrous Yakuza before unlocking the cell and opening the door. He walks in and stands in the corner, his arms crossing as his eyes flash red while turning towards Toyota.

All the time in the world as long as you keep me locked up in here.

I apologize Toyota. I know you are not in need of this test, but nonetheless I need to affirm my beliefs in you.

So what has this proved? That I can sit in this hell hole for a few days while you sit upon your throne laughing at us?

Far from it Toyota. In fact I stand before you quite impressed. I know you are merely along for the ride because of the power I can offer. Let us not sugar coat what is truly going on. You want the World Title just as much as I do, and my group is merely a tool for you to gain that chance.

You catch on quick, yet if you know all this already, why haven't you acted against it?

Ty grins and begins laughing loudly, his laughter echoing throughout the corridor. Toyota rubs his hands together, not looking the slightest bit impressed at the moment.

It is very simple Toyota. I do not care if that is your ultimate goal. Do you remember Toyota, that night upon the rooftop where that anger that you have grown to accept first revealed itself? Do you remember shoving me off the roof just merely by the words I spoke towards you?

Toyota lowers his gaze to the ground, yet can't help but smirk at the memory of it.

Of course I do Burna. Thinking I bested the World Champion so easily. I realized the error of my ways that night, and after battling Barbosa it became even clearer. My nice guy persona was getting in the way of my goals. I had to return to what made me the most feared sumo and fighter.

Good. Your natural talent is nothing to simply ignore Toyota. That is why I brought you into my group, even knowing that when the moment is right you will try to snap my neck. You will fail, but the devastation you will leave in your wake in the process will be something to truly revel in.

The grin remains on Ty's face as Toyota stands slowly and stares across the room at Ty.

Wasabi: If this is some way to get me riled up.

I would have done that already had that been the intended situation Wasabi. All I want is the agreement that we will annihilate those that oppose us in the Lottery, and when it comes down to just you and I, I will grant you the respectful battle for the right to the World Title opportunity. Is that a suitable arrangement for you?

Wasabi contemplates this for a few moments before nodding his head, Ty extends his hand and the two shakes hands. Ty steps back out into the corridor, leaving one final message for Toyota.

Do not expect any sort of leniency if the situation presents itself Toyota. I still have all the cards in my hands and I will not hesitate to end you if it means reaching the top once more.

Without bothering to hear the response, Ty makes his way back to the central area, and down the final corridor. He passes by every single cell until reaching a solid reinforced steel door. There are no openings for light to be let in, the Chaos Symbol prominently painted upon the door. Ty unlocks the door and swings it open, a man hunched over on the ground. Ty looks down at the figure, none too pleased with the man sitting on the ground.

Get up Chris.

The man slowly looks up, even worse dark circles have formed under his eyes then even Alhazred's had. Chris looks like he has not slept at all since being sent into this cell. As the dim light floods into the room, he shields his eyes and squints hard as his eyes attempt to readjust to the light. As he looks up he can simply see the imposing figure of Ty standing in the entrance way.

I said get up!

Ty quickly walks over to Chris and grabs him by the arm, forcibly pulling him up onto his feet. Ty grits his teeth as he stares dead into the eyes of his chosen heir. Chris can barely struggle against the hold, his mind fogged and light headed from the lack of well everything.

Do you know why I locked you specifically in this cell? Do you?!

Chris: To become more like you.

No. This is your penance for your failures. Ever since I gave you the key to my kingdom you have been a constant disappointment. This is where it ends Chris. You will take the Eurasian Title from Black Dragon. You will destroy Celeste Crimson and her crusading ways. Do you understand me?

Chris doesn't respond at first until Ty grabs him by the shirt and shakes him violently. Chris suddenly let's out a yell at the mention of Celeste and shoves Ty backwards, sending him into the wall behind.

Is this what you consider fair treatment of your heir apparent? To throw him in a match he possibly can't win? To lock him away in a dungeon somewhere with not even the taste of water?! How am I supposed to beat the two people that want to put me under more then anyone else Ty? Answer me!

Ty leans back against the wall, the maniacal smile forming on his face once more as he listens to the ramblings of his most prized Apostle. His eyes glow red as the laughter stops and a look of rage forms on his face again.

If you are to be anything worthy of my heir apparent, then you will go out and do exactly as I tell you too. You will learn to adapt. You will learn to survive. Most importantly.

Ty disappears from Chris' vision and suddenly reappears in front of him, his eyes staring right through him once more.

You will learn to not question my methods!

Suddenly Ty back hands Chris across the face, sending him stumbling and falling to the ground. Ty stands tall over Chris as Chris rubs his cheek. His eyes suddenly come to life and the exhaustion seems to shake from his body as he springs forward and connects with a hard right on Ty. Ty's head turns to the side from the blow, his body completely remain still as Chris suddenly takes in the ramifications of his actions. Ty slowly turns his head back towards Chris, the wide smile returning to his face and his eyes opened wide. A low laughter emits from him, his head suddenly throwing back and laughing as loud as possible.

YES! That is what I want to see Chris. I want to see some God damn fight in you. I don't want this shell that has disgraced my presence the past few weeks! I want the Chris K.O. that went out and decimated Everest and Steamboat Ricky. I want the Chris K.O. with the determination and ability to defeat anyone I put in his path. Do you understand me Chris? Do you?!?!

Chris stares him down, his breathing heavy yet the similar look of anger and defiance in his eyes as Alhazred before. Chris lowers his head slightly as he clenches his fists tightly enough that blood begins to drip from his hands.

That's what you want me to do? To take care of your dirty work and dispose of your enemies you don't want to deal with?

You forget something Chris, these enemies are more focused on you then myself at this time. You have done this, and now you will end it. You may try to make excuses and point the finger at me, but in the end it is you who will be in the ring with your two enemies.

Ty leans forward, his face just mere inches from Chris's as the smile disappears once more.

Man up and destroy them Chris. Chaos demands it, the Ouija you have in your possession demands it, and most importantly, the fighter in you demands it. Take the Eurasian title, earn your way into the Lethal Lottery, and maybe at that point you will be viewed in my eyes as equal. Until then, you will be treated like you are now, nothing more then a dog at my feet.

Ty stands up straight and turns, walking out of the cell and back into the main corridor without another word. The camera spins around and gazes over Ty's right shoulder as Chris stares a hole through the back of his leader's head. The screen goes black momentarily before returning to a different area, Ty now standing in front of his altar, the obsidian throne behind him. No one accompanies him as he leans over the altar, his head lowered. There is nothing but silence filling the room other than the quiet breathing one could hear from the one who thinks of himself as the puppet master.

I have waited long enough. I have waited patiently as others have gained their opportunities to take the World Title. I have watched as none of these so called champions could hold onto the title for mere days. False idols in the kingdom of Chaos, they have each fallen to the insanity completely enveloping WZCW. I have wrought upon this madness, I have caused the title to change hands so many times, even when I am not the one holding the title I still control the very strings that weave the fabric of it's tale. The belt itself knows who it's rightful owner is, and you see him stand before you.

Ty throws his head up and stands straight, his arms rising up as flames suddenly burst forth behind him, setting ablaze the large wooden Chaos symbol standing behind him. The familiar red glow surrounds his eyes, swirling back and forth as he can feel the power of Chaos channeling into him. He closes his eyes as he feels the heat of the blaze before slowly lowering his head down to his chest, his long raven locks covering his eyes.

For far too long I have allowed this parade of paper champions walk around with my title. The time has come for the King of Darkness to ascend to the top of WZCW once more and claim what is mine. I shall cement the legacy of the title and make it tied to my very name, just as the peasants that grovel at my feet say my name in hushed whispers, hoping that invoking my name may somehow give them the same strength I have showcased over and over again since I have stepped foot in this, my company! Whether they use my name as something to speak ill will towards as a scapegoat, or as a totem of power to draw strength from. It matters not, the fact remains that even as I stepped aside and let the foolish battle over my prized possession, there in the shadows and in the whispers in the wind, I remained. Always looming over the events unfolding before their very eyes. As I watched the one to dethrone me fall so easily, as I watched the one who I have chosen to be my opponent at Kingdom Come IV, and as I personally delivered the final stake in the reign of one who hates me with every fiber of his being, there I was, directing this plot to fruition.

He begins laughing once more as he steps backwards, directly into the flames surrounding the Chaos Symbol. His arms rise upwards and grasp the burning wood, pulling himself up directly into the center of the Chaos Symbol. There he seemingly levitates in front of his beloved sigil, lavishing in the mere presence of it. His eyes remain fixated forward as the flames envelope him and the wooden figure.

And so the final stanza, the final chapter of this play may now begin. Chaos has chosen her apostles, she has chosen her champion and her beloved. As the Apostles carry their messiah to the highest of peaks, there shall the chalice so many have wished to hold will sit, starving for its true champion to finally reclaim it. It has been sickened by those that have held it in their hands, dirtying and diminishing the shine that it once had while around my waist. No longer will allow it be tarnished as so! The Lethal Lottery will be another feat the choirs of the damned will sing of, and soon after, the King of Darkness will descend from his throne, to take back what has become synonymous with reign, and with it, the Age of Chaos will become reality, the very fabric of order and design destroyed by the unrelenting will of the harbinger that will toll the bell, signaling the beginning of the end, and in the center of it all, I shall stand, your eternal nightmare!

The flames suddenly burst forth and completely fill the screen, save for one final glance at Ty standing in front of the wooden symbol, his arms stretched out across it's beams and his head lowered before the fire fully consumes the scene and the feed goes to black.

 

[Gelgarin]

Book of the Dragon​

~ Intermission 1 – For a Moment like This ~​

“What do you want?”

“I came back for you.”

“Why?”

* * *​

Memories; is that all we are? Are we simply the summation of experience and environment or is there something more? If you took me an stripped all my memories, stole away my history, removed my knowledge, took from me language and understanding and left me as a newborn child; would I grow into the same man I am now?

Is my life just memories? Or is there something more?

* * *​

“Ready kid?”

He nods.

“Break a leg.”

* * *​

Darkness.

“Hello?”

“Good evening.”

A voice, much like his own. He turns his head towards the sound but can make out nothing; the darkness is so thick he cannot even tell if his eyes are open or closed.

“Who are you?” he asks.

“I’m you of course”

* * *​

I don’t have much fondness for my memories, they are almost universally negative. Oh there are shards on silver in the nexus, my time with Ria, first meeting Muse, opening the Halfway House… but all of these are eclipsed by shadows to black to talk about. I grew up in torment, escaped into slavery, descended into savagery, and rose only to be used as a tool of evil. Every good action I have performed I have later negated through evil. I used to protect my mother and my little sisters – but then I ran away and left them to their fate. I started a foundation to help people who had suffered like me, but within a year I had allowed my dream to be raped by corporate scum. I haven’t yet disgraced my time with Muse, but the pattern suggests that it is only a matter of time.

And yet, if you asked me if I would change anything, I honestly don’t know what I would say. I’ve lived a life of rue, but it is that life that has made me who I am today. I loathe my memories, but I don’t loath my identity. There must be something more.

* * *​

“Break a leg.”

It’s a theatrical joke; a way to wish good fortune without jinxing the performance, but here in the cage it has a far more literal meaning. People think that honour is something possessed only by the virtuous; they are wrong. The worst criminal scum are often the ones with the most stringent code of ethics – they may be out of skew with society, but they have their rules just like everybody else. Pirates, cutthroats, rapists and thieves, all these men have a line they will not cross.

It’s exactly the same here in the cage. In the devil’s playground the rules are simple: two men enter, one man leaves. No pinfall, no submission, no TKO, you win when your opponent can no longer fight back and when the audience’s bloodlust has been sated. In the cage “break a leg” means exactly that; fighters will throw everything they have at one another, but where possible they will try to avoid taking a life. Snap a wrist, pull a knee out of its socket, the other guy may never fight again, but at least he stands a good chance of leaving the cage alive.

I sometimes think that there was more honour back there than there is where I am now.

* * *​

“May I be the first to congratulate you on your victory. It was clear from watching how much this match meant to you. How does it feel for you to walk away victorious?”

The young man stumbles over his response; lost for words for the first time in years. Without warning, mind and body overridden by adrenaline and euphoria, the young man comes forward, and pulls the girl into a tight hug. Momentarily taken aback, she puts him gingerly on the shoulder.


As fast as it came, the boy pulls back, his sweating face suddenly a slightly deeper shade of red. Seeking distraction, he finally finds his voice.

“Many thanks. ten-thousand times I've longed to hear those words aloud. Tonight begins my road to redemption. The trail of good intentions stretches ahead and behind, but at long last I know which way to walk. My journey begins anew in but a moment; but right now, tonight, this moment... this is a moment in paradise.”

* * *​

“Are you sure you’re up to this Hano?”

“Nope. But I’m going to do it anyway.”

It is the night before; I’m sat with Muse enjoying a home cooked risotto. She’s been here all day, it’s the longest time we’ve spent together since I came back.

“Do you have a plan?”

“Dropping people on their heads?”

“Do you have a better plan?

“Not really.”

Truth be told I don’t really care about the lottery. If life has taught me one lesson it is to not put my faith in items of chance. Depend on chance and all you are doing is setting yourself up for a fall. Odds are that winning the lottery will require going through at least a dozen other men, and after I have already wrestled a match it seems an unlikely goal. No, the road to where I wish to be does not travel through the Lethal Lottery; I would prefer to make my own luck. Forget the lottery, I’d rather bet on myself.

* * *​

There is a theory known as determinism. In layman’s terms it states that since every cause has its effect, every effect can similarly be traces back to causation. In other words, throwing a die is not in fact random, but can be predicted by analysing the forces involved.

This would strike most people as simple common sense, but the theory runs into problems when you start applying it to people. After all, what are people is not infinitely more complicated sort of die. At our most basic level we are simply elementary particles, none of which appears to behave in a way that could ever be described as random. To expand, deterministic theory often suggests that it would be possible to predict a person’s response to any given stimulus by a sufficiently advanced study of the subject’s brain.

All of this makes perfect sense, the problem is that it doesn’t allow for free will. If our decisions are predictable then we are not, strictly speaking, making them at all; any more than a die decides on which side it is going to land. Unless you believe in a soul then free will becomes remarkably difficult to justify.

The dice have all already been cast; we can’t change the paths we have been set to walk and more than we can make water flow up hill. The dice have already been cast, and is some cases the dice are loaded.

I’m not sure any of this matters, but it’s worth thinking about.

* * *​

I figure you have the same chance of winning the lottery whether you play or not. - Fran Lebowitz

 

[Thriller Ant]

The scene opens in a picturesque forest. A light dusting of snow covers the ground and the trees. Two figures can be seen coming through a path between the trees, using walking sticks to clear any brush in their path. As they approach, the figures become recognizable as Phoenix and Minoru. They are walking slowly and taking in the scenery around them. They approach the camera, and begin to speak.

It’s nice to get out of civilization once in a while. Thanks for this, Minoru.

I figured you could use a break from the craziness of life of the road to rest your mind and spirit before the Lethal Lottery. The training of your body, however, has not ceased, I see.

Minoru uses his walking stick to lift Phoenix’s pant leg, showing bruises and cuts from sparring.

You are correct. The physical training is not what will win me the Lottery, though. The most physically gifted man in the world could enter the Lottery, but be eliminated by the weakest if everything falls a certain way. If the favorite to win enters in the first five, is he still the favorite? Or the biggest underdog still that if he enters in the final three? There is much more to this match than physical ability, Minoru.

I understand what you are saying, but then how do you prepare for the Lottery? I know how badly you want that match at Kingdom Come.

Phoenix smiles at Minoru’s response. Rather than responding immediately, he heads off the path and inspects a fallen tree nearby. After a few moments, Phoenix sits next to the fallen tree and signals for Minoru to join him.

In a world where we feel the need to control as much of our lives as possible, places like this forest, places where we have no control, are a rare entity. We can chop down a tree, we can plant seeds, but we can’t control what Mother Nature will do next. Maybe she’ll let those seeds grow into trees, maybe they’ll die the day they are planted. Maybe the spot that tree was taken from will lie barren for decades, maybe four new trees will take its place. This forest is a living, breathing place that is different yesterday from today from tomorrow from an hour from now and no matter how hard we try to control it, no one ever will be able to.

The Lethal Lottery match is not unlike this forest. Men can claim that they will dominate the match, throw 29 other men over the top and go on to Kingdom Come. Sure, that bravado sounds good in theory, but in theory, no one knows what he will be walking into on Sunday. Not even Matt Tastic or Mr. Baller, even though they know when they will be entering. Just like this forest, a power greater than any man will control the fate of all 30 of us.

I apologize for the roundabout answer to your question, Minoru. I am preparing for the Lottery by simply accepting the unknown. I know that there could be anywhere from zero to 28 men in the ring when I enter that match. I know that there will be somewhere between one and 28 men still waiting in the back when I enter that match. My ultimate goal is not to defeat 29 other men on Sunday. My goal is to have an opportunity to face the WZCW Champion at Kingdome Come. By focusing on Kingdom Come rather than what I can’t control in the Lottery, my mind can focus more on what I need to do in the ring to succeed.

Minoru smiles and nods, letting Phoenix's answer soak in. He pats Phoenix on the back as he responds.

I can tell your training in Japan has done you well. The Phoenix I met when you first arrived in Kobe never would have looked at a match in that light. Let’s go back to the dojo, I have something that will help clear up that bruising on your leg and I want to hear more about the time someone tried to pin you in the Lottery match.

Both men share a laugh as they get back to their feet and continue down the path, with the screen fading to black.

 

[Showtime]

Scene opens in a dark office room at WZCW Studios. The dim lights from a pair of computer screens is the only thing keeping the room from complete darkness. Typing can be heard near the computers until a loud cough interrupts the noise. The sound of match is heard and the camera zooms in on the flame. The voice of Trent Stonewall, the agent derived from Showtimes schizophrenic mind, can be heard screaming over the camera.

Stonewall: Oh God! Somebody stop him before he burns the whole building down this time.

Trent laughs as the camera pans out. Showtime is behind the computers and is lighting a cigarette with the match.

Cougar: Always a comedian Stonewall. You must hang out with my funny personalities. Now quiet... I'm inputting some data and hopefully I can find a winning combination to solve Lethal Lottery.

30 men...

The biggest Lethal Lottery in over 2 years...

28 possible lottery spots...

26 known participants...

4 surprise entrants...

8 entrants are competing in matches prior to the Lethal Lottery match...

Ty Burna and the Apostles of Chaos have 4 spots between them...
- Chris K.O. is competing in an EurAsian Title match earlier in the show. Could be a surprise entrant.
- Barbosa is in the WZCW World Heavyweight Championship match with Steven Kurtesy and is an ally to Apostles of Chaos. Could be a surprise entrant if he loses...

Blade and Sons of Destiny have 3 spots between them...
-Sons of Destiny (Hammond and Overlast) are competing in a Tag Team Title match prior to the Lethal Lottery match...

Steven Holmes and John Constantine are allies working towards a common goal...

Ha... I’ve seen that before.

And he both know how that went now don’t we.

Steven Holmes and John Constantine are allies working towards a common goal...
-Holmes is defending his Elite X Championship in an Extreme Submission match. Whatever that is it means both him and Gordito will be near unable to compete again after it’s over...
-Constantine and myself have had a long history and he recently upset me last Meltdown. Look for signs of over-confidence.

Past issues with.....

Showtime glances at the other screen for the entry list.

The following are the confirmed participants:

#1: Matt Tastic
#30: Mr. Baller
"Showtime" David Cougar
Ty Burna
Wasabi Toyota
S.H.I.T.
Dr. Alhazred
Brad Bomb
Action Saxton
Drake Callahan
Blade
Scott Hammond
Mick Overlast
Jack Skinner
Alexander Steele
Celeste Crimson
Black Dragon
Steven Holmes
Constantine
Austin Reynolds
Ricky Runn
Phoenix
Saboteur
Triple X
Justin Cooper
Titus​

Looking at the list there I’d say I have some sort of feud or beef or misdealing with just about everybody.

So... no different than last year.

No... it’s way more different than last year.

You won last year.

Irrelevant variable.

Fine then talk to me about it. I’m here with you and listening.

The two suddenly burst out laughing. The thought of the schizophrenic illusion Showtime has identified as such saying that he was with him his office was of great humour to him, which he had not experienced in quite sometime.

Ahhh... well. To start there’s ten more wrestlers this year, and a lot more of them are paired up in teams and units. Hell the owner of Meltdown is in this match. I don’t know where Ty got that kind of scratch but I’m sure he’d also be capable of buying out guys like Justin Cooper or Triple X.

The diabolical one. The one whose career you’re forever linked to. Somehow some way you two always meet in the ring.

Yea... and I’ve been trying to get away from him for so long.

Which is why we should just join him and run WZCW together.

Hmmm... to become a pawn? No thanks. Shall I continue or do you wish to demonstrate more poor decisions...

Alright... so twenty-nine other wrestlers and I am without an ally this year. It’s me against all of them... and sure... a lot of them are competing in other matches this year, but none of the big challengers are like last years. Ty Burna, Toyota, Blade, Constantine, don’t count out a guy like Titus either. Those men are among my toughest opponents not competing twice at Lethal Lottery and that’s not including any surprise opponents. Throw in potential fluke winners Action Saxton, Saboteur, Callahan, Baller, Phoenix. Those men are far beneath me... but in a match as unpredictable as Lethal Lottery, where if I walk out after Matt Tastic I will have to survive forty-two minutes before the last man enters, anything can happen and those men, as well as any wrester in that match, has a chance of eliminating me, stealing my spotlight, ruining our ratings, and subsequently sinking this product down to the ground.

Showtime slumps back into his chair. He grabs at his smoke sitting in the ash tray and takes a long drag out of it.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this... doubtful... this fearful, this... hesitant. The tone, wit, and sarcasm is still there, but the confidence?

Showtime grabs at a bottle of liquor on the table and drinks from it.

You were right....... You know... I said not that long ago before my match with Tastic and Sam Smith, "You don’t want to lose these type of matches and wind up in a feud with Matt Tastic or Sam Smith". The thing is... if you want to be the top dog in this company than you shouldn’t be in a match with them in the first place.

A flashback fills Showtime’s head, from Redemption 2011.

Reynolds ascends the turnbuckle to be on the same level as Showtime as he looks around to see Ty is down, so he prepares to send Showtime from the top until the showman hits a low blow on him, giving Showtime a chance to stand up tall, he pulls Reynolds up with him and holds him ready, he looks into the distance and feels the moment coming and goes for his deadly Final Act. As he takes flight, time seems to slow down and the sound of a heartbeat can only be heard but reality snaps back in as the momentum is stopped flat by the impact of a Consecrated Banishment from Ty who kicked Showtime head on, dropping him cold to the mat.....

After the concussion... I was forced to take my meds to deal with my schizophrenia. I was told to take a few months off. WZCW went on some bizarre intergalactic tour or something so they had this spinoff All-Star show for a few weeks. Plenty of time to heal I said, but they gave me pills to deal with... well... you Trent. They said take it easy... try tag teaming for a while. Sure enough an open battle royal comes up where the winners take on the Tag Team Champions at Apocalypse. It was another step on my way towards holding every single title in WZCW. We won... but my heart just wasn’t in it. It hasn’t been for months. The pills stopped the illusions, but I was still paranoid, untrusting of others. I haven’t been pushing myself, promoting myself well, getting out and showing the company I am the top dog, the big star, the one that will carry WZCW out of the hot potato state our biggest title has become and bring it towards a new prestige. That’s why I’ve been in two Tag Team Title matches and a lower card feud in the last three PPV’s. That’s why I’m not on that ridiculously titled Fantabulous Five. That’s why I lost... to John Constantine at Meltdown.

Showtime lowers his head. The hair draped over his face shielding his sadness. Trent Stonewall appears now beside Showtime.

That’s why I have returned. To bring you back... to the Showtime you once were.

With what? Your DeLorean or something? Since you’ve returned things haven’t gotten any better yet.

But they will... trust me with time you will become World Champion.

I haven’t got time. As you can see it’s 1:41 am, the night before deadline..... for The Show, which airs the night before Lethal Lottery, so there’s no time for psychological warfare, not enough time to research everything there possibly is to know about my opponents and who could be our surprise entrants, there’s no time for a Rocky Themed Montage workout... like this one.

Spoiler

[youtube]1SUzcDUERLo[/youtube]

Look don’t give me this you did all those things before last years victory. The only thing the Showtime ever lifted up back then were drinks... not books. Yea you’ll watch videos, but I know you’re usually occupied with something or someone else. And that dojo you went to... man you don’t just taste Asia, you turn it into your personal Baskin Robbins. Yea... you can’t keep many secrets from me. I’m there... I’m always there.

You’re down now, but trust me you can do this. You did it last year.

Have you not been listening to anything that I've explained to you, or do you need further evidence. Fine then. Last year... one of greatest advantages I had mentally was that I was the only man undefeated from All or Nothing on in the Lethal Lottery match. I had momentum that no once else had. This year... aside from being so used to fighting the Runns, Steeles, Rogers, and other weak competition I’ve faced, I was defeated the show before Lethal Lottery. Momentum stopped. Or if you want more proof, how about the large amount of teams and fractions there are in the match. I know everyone is gunning for my head, how am I supposed to counter all this?

Showtime... Showtime... Showtime... dare I say it... you need to take those meds and chill. You’re looking at this way too much. It’s not as big as you might think. Try... looking at the battle lines that are being drawn. You’ll see that while you don’t have any position in this high stakes game for power, you’ll see that you are also in nobodies sight of line either. Sure... some people may have petty feuds to pick with you, Callahan, Constantine, Reynolds, but they are not at your level and it’s high time you remembered that about yourself champ.

You are the best at winning no matter the odds. You know better than any wrestler in WZCW on how to manipulate the rules and your opponents to your advantage. You have the ability to fly under the radar when SOD and AOC battle and then rise when the moment is right.

Showtime raises his head slowly.

Here is a tape you have to watch. Call it cliche or whatever you want. I hope maybe it’ll inspire you a little before this Sunday.

Showtime grabs the tape and when he does Trent Stonewall disappears from the room. Showtime looks at the tape. It is of last years Lethal Lottery.

This is pretty cliche. Still...

Showtime pops the tape into the player. It shows highlights from the Lethal Lottery match.

-Showtime soaks in the moment only he turns and is met with Reynolds’ steel chair, taking him straight to the floor as the crowd cheer in unison, Reynolds gets Cougar up and slams him into the set which he bounces off and is revealed to have been busted from that chairshot. Reynolds grabs him again and throws him into the security barrier along the entrance way
-Reynolds suplexes Showtime onto the floor, giving Showtime some further pains before he notices the other entrants signal to him, so he obliges by getting the Showman up and rolling him into the ring, he is welcomed by the stomps of Everest, Smith and Winters.
-Showtime turns and finds Reynolds standing on the opposite corner waiting for him he’s about to approach him but Baez low blows him from behind and Smith hits the Final Judgement on him, Reynolds then leaps off the top ropes and lands on him with a splash.
-Barbosa’s rampage continues but seems to be wearing down. Baez leaps up at him to be taken down with a piledriver, he then focuses eyes on Showtime Cougar who’s heavily worn down but that doesn’t affect Barbosa who grabs him and hits him with another Doppelgänger.
-Showtime is suddenly up and he tries throwing Celeste over the ropes but she holds on and kicks him away. She catches Show and hits a big belly to belly suplex and he rolls over, blood dripping from his head still.
-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.

The tape ends and camera turns back to Showtime.

Okay... time for an encore.

-----------

Scene opens on the set of The Show. The lights are on and the camera's are ready to roll as the director counts Showtime down to start.

5... 4... 3... 2... 1

Cougar: Good evening ladies and gentlemen and welcome to a very special fire proof edition of The Show. Yes this year before the Lethal Lottery we have taken several precautions to ensure that the stage does not light up in flames and that no one gets hurt. No one that is except my Lethal Lottery opponents this Sunday. Allen, do you think that we have done everything possible to ensure no fires can be started.

Allen stands up amongst the audience and speaks.

Allen: I do believe so Showtime. At the moment you are not on fire, nor lighting it up in the ring so I think we are all 100% safe down here.

The audience chuckles as Allen sits and Showtime stands and walks away from his desk putting on a dark pair of gloves.

Haha ha ha. Cracks aside Allen, we are very serious about making sure that nothing happens here tonight. This floor is covered in a non flammable surface. Observe.

Showtime takes a match and lights it. He drops the match on the wooden floor, but the floor does not catch on fire and the flame slowly burns out.

See... safe. However Allen, you said that there was no way a fire could be started here, and you jokingly explained it by pointing out that I have been on something you could call a cold streak in my career. Allen... no matter how down or cold I may be I can always light it up and catch fire when I need to...

Showtime reaches under the desk and pulls out a small candle. He lights the candle and places it down on the stage floor.

Just like that I have made fire...

The audience applauds and Showtime takes a bow. He then walks over the candle. He purposely holds his pant leg over the flame and soon it catches on file. The crowd gasps as Showtime's pants start to become engulfed by flames as they move up his body.

And just like I have caught on fire.

The flames reach Showtime's jacket. Showtime calmly removes his pants to reveal he is wearing a fireproof body suit beneath his clothes. He takes off his jacket and throws the clothes onto the stage, the fire destroying his clothes until they are nothing but ash.

In a mere instant I lit up the stage like only I can do, like only the star of WZCW is capable of doing. This is not the first time in my career that I have not had much momentum walking into a very important match. My career was on the verge of being done in 2010 when I faced Austin Reynolds at All or Nothing. I had suffered many defeats leading up to our big match up. It was so bad that I threw my arms up and said that I would put my career on the line for Austin's Elite X Championship. I did it because if I could not defeat Austin Reynolds than my career deserved to be over. The day that I am unable to over come a high flying copycat of myself, a prototype that many stars have tried to follow and many more will try, but one that no one will be able to duplicate, the day that I cannot consistently beat that foe is the day I deserve to end my show and my career.

That day... will never come though. Not as long as I'm breathing. Not as long as I'm dreaming. People will always tell me I'm too over the top. That I am a phony, a fake, that I am a coward, a rat, someone who can't defeat an opponent unless I have help, someone who's conceded, who's needs attention, who demands he be respected and feared by all. The fact is that is all talk, and it further fuels the expectation that I am the biggest star this company has to offer when all my opponents can do is talk about who they think I am. I am the most talked about wrestler in this company and it’s not because of what all these naysayers say... it’s because I win!

The stands up and applauds loudly, hooting and hollering for Showtime to continue. Showtime acknowledges and waits for them to sit down.

I’ve done this before. I survived last years Lethal Lottery and cemented my status. That when pitted amongst the best I stand alone and gone are all the rest. It was no easy task last years Lethal Lottery. Many men assaulted me throughout the contest. I know full well it’s because eliminating me is a greater prize than winning Lethal Lottery. Walk onto any stage, any ring, any set, all eyes are on the main star and everyone wants to help bring him down a peg to squeeze more air time for them. From day one they’ve been bring me down, but the end result is I always delivered. I have won Lethal Lottery, Main Evented Kingdom Come, and have held and successfully defended four WZCW Titles... every title in WZCW except for one... the one that matters the most... the WZCW World Heavyweight Championship.

The crowd applauds as Showtime stares up at the lights. Allen sees Showtime squinting and signals for mood lights. The lights turn blue as Showtime continues.

These same people will tell me that I have had three chances at the title. They’re wrong... I actually have four. First one was kind of a blink and you’ll miss it type one but it counts and it should. So they may be right to say I should step aside and let someone new have a crack at winning the championship. Guys like Blade, Phoenix, Baller, guys who have been here for a really long time and deserve a shot because... because... they have been here a really long time seems to be the main answer I’m coming up with. There’s a reason why they haven’t gotten there, just as there is a reason guys like Hammond and Tastic who have been here for a while haven’t reached their next level either. They aren’t good enough. They aren’t in my league. Want proof... look no further than Mr. Right Place Right Time Gordito. Lost to Big Dave and yet somehow ended up winning the tournament to become number one contender. Had a double pinfall with Barbosa to win his second chance and was popular enough to survive Unscripted Voting to win a third chance and you know what... he failed all three times! He never deserved those chances in the first place and it showed. That is why neither of you are ready yet.

The main event is in shambles at the moment. Big Dave ended the year long reign of Ty Burna, the only two men I could consider my equals, but rather than lead forth a successful reign to when we finally meet, he fumbled the ball and lost to Barbosa when he cashed in King For A Day. How ironic was it that Big Dave lost the title to the very same prize he originally won at Kingdom Come. Barbosa picked up the title but dropped it the next show, the PPV All or Nothing, to Titus..... Titus I’ve had a bone to pick with you for some time. Politicking for title matches, cornering Barbosa into a feud with you while he was King For A Day, knowing if he cashed in you would get a title shot. Well it worked out for ya Tits. You got your title back, but then it two quick shows, you lost it to our current champions, a former doctor and now professor Steven Kurtesy. This man’s biggest claim to fame is carrying Crashin’s ball sack. This resembles something out of the Mayhem Title playbook. It’s time I put an end to this mayhem and claimed the one prize that has eluded me. I had my chances yes, but I made the huge error that this prize I felt was so rightly mine, should be handed to me. No other title was handed to me, I fought and won each and every on of those titles and at Kingdom Come after I win Lethal Lottery again it will be no different!

The crowd erupts and Showtime walks to the side of the stage he grabs a red plastic gas tank and pours it all over the stage and then continues.

So Ty Burna and his Apostles of who gives a crap, there may be four of ya, there may be five or six of ya, but there are two of these.

Showtime holds his two fist up.

Check one, check two, that’s right their ready and they’ll fight, and claw and poke, I’ll do every underhanded trick and outsmart your little pricks. Toyota... S.H.I.T.... Dr. Alhazred... S.H.I.T.... S.H.I.T.... S.H.I.T. You get what I’m saying Ty. No matter how many men you have you and I know it'll come down to just you and me. I know you have a numbers game now, or so you think. Maybe, just maybe, you’ve made yourself the target now. Twenty-six men sure does beat four any day so you better pray they all don't come after you before I get my chance at you.

Blade and his Daycare of Destiny are nothing but a bunch of whining complaining little toddlers who haven’t gotten there way and will continue to whine about it. Blade... I see you want the main event so bad you feel like you're close to it. You are Blade, but you're not in my league not just yet. But I see you want to be like me, or Ty Burna. That’s why you formed your own clique right. With the first two losers you came across. Look Blade pairing yourself with losers doesn’t make you any better, just makes you more of loser which is what you’ll be at Lethal Lottery.

The crowd hoots and hollers as Showtime pulls out a magazine.

I could possibly drive you all into boredom if I talked about all my opponents so I’m just going to stop at there. The reason being for those two comes courtesy of this magazine which lists the odds of who will win Lethal Lottery. Showtime came in at 6/1 odds while Ty and Blade both came in at 4/1. Ha... a complete joke.

Showtime throws the magazine over his shoulder and grabs a match.

I’ve been called a lot of things by a lot of different people. I have wrestled consistently... never missing a show since my arrival here. I have sweat, bled, and put on outstanding matches night in and night out and I do it all for the camera and the spotlight, I do it all for the viewers watching at home and the screaming fans attending live. This Sunday at Lethal Lottery, I put my title on the line so to speak. I am the defending Lethal Lottery champion and if I am going to live up to my claim to have successfully defended each of my titles... you sure as hell better damn believe that I am going to be victorious at Lethal Lottery.

Showtime lights the match and tosses it to the floor. The stage lights up and the crowd begins to panic. Allen stands up and waves his arms frantically to get peoples attention.

Everyone please stay calm. The stage is not on fire, just the gas on top of the non flammable surface. We are in no danger. Miss... you can stop praying now.

One more thing... Black Dragon also was favoured above me at 5/1. Good for him. To all the champions competing good luck. I know what it’s like to do two shows in one night. And welcome back to some of the following perhaps... Karzai, Lights, Winters, Bowen, Bratchny, Big Dave, William Teach, Wilton, Chris Jones, Rush, Crashin, Kravinoff, and Wunderbar. I’m sure one of you will be amongst the surprise entrants. Now if you’ll excuse me... I’m about to leave the frying pan that has been my cooked career and throw it into the fire. Let’s see if I come out on top again.

Showtime turns around and walks into the flames. Stage Hands begin to extinguish fire along the side of the stage. Smoke begins to cover the camera as the scene ends.

 

[Барбоса]

“All Of This Will Be Yours”
A Prologue

The hard rain lashes the window of a small car that houses a middle aged man and a young boy. The boys features ring reminiscent of someone we will come to know as the Power Trip, John Constantine. His face is a picture of worry as he looks towards the older man sitting adjacent to him. A feeling of cold fear runs down his spine as the older gentleman squints his eyes to see out of the window. Still the rain pours, heavier and heavier with every cautious step on the gas pedal.

Constantine: Shouldn't we stop?

Constantine's innocent pleas fall upon deaf ears as the crackling of the radio and the continual thudding of water on glass drowns him out. He grips his chair and looks out into the black abyss that lies before his vehicle. There is nothing, only the illumination of the sky that comes with every glow of lightning. Constantine allows a gulp to pass over the lump in his throat and aims another plea at the driver.

Constantine: Dad!

Again, the muted voice of Constantine is drowned out by factors out with his control. From nowhere, another car rushes past their vehicle, a little too close for comfort as Constantine covers his eyes with his hands. His father, whilst still trying to concentrate on the road, catches sight of his frightened son and places a firm hand on his knee. For a moment, Constantine forgets where he is. There is no fear, Just the warm embrace of a father's love to his child.

Father: Don't worry, son, we're almost there.

Constantine takes heart in his father's words as he turns his gaze back towards the road. His father, a statuesque man with chiselled features does the same. His face is pale and his cheeks are gaunt. The rumbling of his stomach tells a story as he places both hands on the wheel once more.

Father: Look at this weather! No one is going to turn up tonight.

Constantine's eyes flick towards his father again, he knows the ramifications of a low turn-out. He knows the rumbling in his father's stomach will extend to his if his father's assumption turns out to be true. Feeling the need to reassure his father, Constantine smiles in his direction, an act that is not lost on his doting parent.

Constantine: You never know, Dad. It's the Megaslam tonight. You know how that usually brings some more people in. Maybe tonight will be the same.

His father scoffs at the notion.

Father: Whoever thought it would be a good idea to bring it to Oregon, must have been out of their minds. Who in their right minds are going to go out in this weather, to cram into a leaky gym hall to see 15 men waltz around in trunks?

The reassuring actions of his father's hand on his lap is now all but lost on Constantine as the cold reality of another night without a meal and a sleep in the back seat of his father's car becomes an all-too-real possibility. Again feeling the need to reassure his father, Constantine aims his speech at his father, still partly obscured by the rain.

Constantine: They'll come out to see the Crusher! They'll come to see my Dad beat 14 other men.

His father lets out a laugh this time as Constantine's words fade away into the night. Looking at his father, Constantine feels renewed, his voice raises in volume and vigour.

Constantine: They will! You're the best wrestler I've ever seen. Everyone knows that you're the best in UCW! None of them are as brave as my Dad! I know he'll win tonight.

His father turns his head to see Constantine passionately speak his mind. He would be lying if he said that it did not stir him. Constantine's father allows a smile to cross his features as his son settles back into his seat.

Father: We've been on the road so long that sometimes I forget that you're just a kid. Trust me, Son, when you're older, you'll realise that how brave you are and how well you plead your case, you might never get what you deserve. The guys in this promotion are never going to let me leave with the gold tonight. I'd have to steal the belt from Yuri.

Constantine shakes his head in disagreement but decides not to press his position, instead he attempts to lighten the mood.

Constantine: Yuri Metzkov is nothing on my Dad. When he gets in the ring with him tonight, he's going to see just how good my Dad is.

Constantine's father realises that understanding of the politics of wrestling are lost on his young son. Instead of letting him in on the truth, The Crusher merely smiles feebly and continues his drive. After a moment, a large neon sign greets them as they pull into a deserted car park that sits in front of a large community centre. Both the residents of the car are surprised just how big it is. Perhaps The Crusher was wrong. Perhaps this could be a decent pay-day. The car splutters to a stop as Constantine looks on at the venue that will house his father's fate tonight. His father gives him a lively pat on the shoulder and grabs a rucksack from the back seat.

Father: Let's go, Son.

Constantine nods and opens his door. A bluster of wind attempts to push it back on the boy but with some resistance, Constantine frees himself of the car. The downpour has stopped momentarily but some droplets of rain still fall as both father and child run across the car park and into the shelter of the community centre. Once inside, Constantine marvels at the sight of what he is seeing. Never did he imagine the scale of what he would behold. Three men work on the ring in the hall and other men prepare the seating. To say that the sight sent shivers up both of their spines would be understatement. Both stand in awe of the venue before a man in a cheap suit appears before them. Instead of a shirt and tie, a T-Shirt emblazoned with the UCW logo can be seen. A brown cigar hangs from the lip of the man as he shakes the hand of Constantine's father. A sticker, feebly stuck to the lapel of his brown suit reads “Hello, My Name Is Len”.

Len: Crusher! It's good to see you made it in spite of all this weather.

In all of the time that Constantine had known Len, he had never seen him greet his father with such relief and passion. His father had often spoke of his kindness but only when the promise of self-gain was on offer. Constantine's father smiles through his teeth at his boss.

Father: It's good to see you too, Len. We had a few problems getting here but we're here now.

Len claps his hands together and raises a warm smile in the direction of Constantine in his father. Constantine is surprised by how disingenuous Len looks but says nothing as his father places a hand on his shoulder.

Len: Yuri couldn't make it tonight, so it's a relief to see you in such good form. And you brought the boy! Tell me, Johnny, what do you make of all this then?

Constantine doesn't speak but offers a smile and a nod of his head as Len crouches down to his level before stuffing a dollar bill into his pocket.

Len: There's a vending machine right around the corner, Sport. Why don't you get yourself something to eat and let me and your Dad have a few words before his big match?

Constantine shoots a look towards his father but remains silent still. His father gives a nod and releases his hand from his son's shoulder. Constantine turns away and begins walking. Turning back only for a moment, he sees Len wrap an arm around his father's shoulders and ushers him along speaking in his ear all the while. Concerned, Constantine makes his trip to the vending machine as brief as possible. Managing to distribute his dollar evenly between two machines, he picks up a bar of chocolate for his father and carton of juice for himself. Rounding the corner to where his father was located, he sees Len pat his Father's shoulder feebly and then walks off, leaving The Crusher with a bowed head and a look of despair on his features. Constantine hurriedly approaches him and intertwines his fingers with that of his idol.

Constantine: What's wrong?

Constantine's father looks at his boy, a look of woe and sadness in his eyes.

Father: Politics. They want me to lose to Max Damage tonight.

* * *

Len stands in ring, the lit cigar still hanging from his mouth as if he had forgotten it was there entirely. A shoddy looking microphone in his hand and a smug look of self-indulgence on his features. He raises his arms to the crowd, who warmly appreciate his promotion. Above him, a large sign reading “UCW” hangs.

Len: And now, ladies and gentlemen, it's the time you have all been waiting for. 15 of the noblest and most dangerous men will stand in this ring baying for your approval. One by one they will fall from the ring and be eliminated. The winner of the match will be the UCW Heavyweight Champion.

A thunderous applause echoes around the large community centre as Len gracefully receives it. The smug smile that Constantine has come to know is even visible from his vantage point far from the ring. Len allows the applause to die down and then presses ahead.

Len: this match is not for the feint of heart and the mere thought of it has turned out former Champion from a glorious and fabled man, into a cowardly mouse who did everything in his power to stay away from the event.

Constantine screws up his face as Len offers a bare faced lie to the crowd who easily accept it before booing and chanting things about the quickly discarded former Champion. Little did they know that Yuri had broken down 50 miles away and would be sleeping in a frozen car tonight whilst they warmly resided in their beds.

Len: But worry not, my dear friends. For we have 15 more of the most ferocious warriors ready to take his place and claim the UCW Heavyweight Championship for themselves. So without further ado, let's get this show on the road and introduce the participants.

Music begins to play through a very rugged PA system as, one by one, Len introduces the competitors. Standing on the other side of the hall, Constantine is a bag of nerves. Whether he would choose to admit it or not, he feels an odd tension in the air. When couple with the feeling of dread in his stomach, a nauseating picture begins to take shape. After a few moments, all but two of the competitors have been announced. 13 men line the ring and the anticipation from the crowd is almost palpable.

Len: And now introducing, ladies and gentlemen, a dangerous competitor that will stop at nothing to get what he wants. He has brawled with the likes of Yuri “The Russian Destroyer” and Max Damage for as long as I can remember. But with the promise of a Championship he has never held on the line tonight, we may see a different animal. Ladies and gentlemen, please go wild for The Crusher!

The Crusher appears from behind a curtain, his mask keeping his features from the crowd. Constantine, however, can see the disappointment in his fathers eyes as the crowd rise to their feet to boo him. They toss litter at him as he walks past their position and into the ring. Raising his arms to the crowd and then pulling his thumb across his throat to the other competitors, the heat on Constantine's father builds to a crescendo.

Len: And finally, a storied and fabled competitor that has held more Championships than I have had hot meals. A native from right here in Oregon, your idol... Max Damage!

Max arrives through the curtain to a thunderous applause from the crowd. A chant of “MAX” begins and is swiftly the only thing that is audible in the arena. Constantine watches on as Max enters the ring and immediately gets in the face of his father. Len jumps out of the ring and sounds the bell. Immediately, Max Damage and The Crusher begin to pound each other with heavy shot after heavy shot as Constantine feels a heavy pit forming in his stomach.

* * *

The Crusher falls into the turnbuckle as Max Damage and another competitor brawl it out in the middle of the ring. Constantine looks on with passion and concern as the damage of the battle takes form on the body of his father. Damage whips his opponent into the ropes and when he returns, lifts him onto his shoulders before dumping him over the top rope and to the floor below. The crowd whips itself into a frenzy as a showdown between two of the most talked-about men clash in the ring for the Championship. Sensing a moment to stoke the fire, Len rises to his feet.

Len: Finally, it has come to this! Two of the most fabled men in the history of this organisation fight for this!

Len raises a Championship belt above his head as the crowd begin another chant for Max Damage. Max raises a hand to his fans as a smile crosses his features. Exhausted, The Crusher gets to his feet. Damage immediately run at him and misses with a slam, The Crusher rolls out of the way and causes Damage to ram the turnbuckle. Sweeping his leg, The Crusher takes the opportunity to ground his nemesis before landing a heavy leg drop to the throat. Damage rolls around in agony as The Crusher senses the crowd turning on him. Playing his part, he again pulls his thumb across his throat. He cautiously climbs to the top rope, his opponent grounded and seemingly out for the count. Constantine's stomach begins to churn as his father looks in his direction. “The Crushing”, the same moonsault that has ended many-a-match awaits Max Damage.

For a moment, there is calm in the chaos of the arena. The Crusher points towards his son and time seems to slow down. Finally, The Crusher launches himself from the top rope and rotates in mid-air. From the moment the move began, something was wrong. The Crusher comes down hard on his neck as Damage rolls out of the way. A loud gasp takes hold of the arena as Damage rolls back over to his nemesis, whispering in his ear so that the crowd doesn't notice. Silence befalls the arena as Constantine's mouth hangs open in pure shock.

Max rolls onto his back and continues the charade, a promising sign as he must have received word from his partner in this show. The crowd still remains silent as Damage gets to his feet, putting on a performance towards The Crusher, allowing him to buy some time to recover somewhat. Still no movement from The Crusher though, as Damage imitates his opponents taunt of pulling his thumb across his throat. Suddenly, The Crusher stirs as Len once again gets to his feet. He raises his head as blood flows from his mouth and his nose, trickling through the mask that hides his features. He slowly pulls a hand to the back of his head and tears the mask from his face, revealing a harrowing and bloody mess. The crowd gasp once more as The Crusher struggles to his feet.

Constantine: Dad!

Damage allows his opponent to his unsteady feet as the crowd hold their breath. There is an eerie silence before they cheer in appreciation of The Crusher. Crusher falls against the ropes as Damage runs at him. With the last reserve of energy that is in his body, The Crusher pulls the top rope down and falls to the canvas as Damage piles himself over the top rope and onto the floor below. The crowd explode into a frenzy of support for the hearty competitor as Damage and Len spring to their feet for different reasons. Len's mouth hangs open, so much so that the cigar that has become familiar to him falls to the floor. Damage looks into the bloody features of his opponent and gives a slight wink and throws a rehearsed temper tantrum at ringside. Seizing the opportunity once more, Len allows a smile to creep onto his face. Ambulance staff rush to the ring as Len enters with the Championship. Nodding his head as the ambulance staff slowly place The Crusher on a board to support his neck, Len places the Heavyweight Championship across The Crusher's chest before clapping his hands and joining the crowd in appreciation of his fallen Champion.

The crowd still cheers for The Crusher as he is wheeled through them. Every so often, someone pats The Crusher on the chest as the ambulance staff pulls the trolley through the masses. As they open the door, a tear-eyed Constantine stands with hands clasped together. His father rolls his injured neck in the direction of his son. Grabbing his hand with intent, he begins to speak in a laboured voice.

Father: These people, Son... They can put you on top... Of the world... Treat them with respect and... One day... All of this will be yours.

Constantine nods his head at his he follows his father out into the car park of the arena and into the back of the ambulance. A lesson learned and forgotten in time.​