Lethal Lottery IV: Steven Holmes vs. Gordito (Elite Title)

[Ty Burna]

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

 

[FunKay the Inevitable]

The night is dark, frightful and vicious. Rain hails down upon the ground, biblical in its volumes. The wind howls like a mighty wolf. Thunder crackles across the sky and lightening illuminates them. We are witness to a make-shift shelter from this passing storm. It is constructed from whatever refuge can be salvaged; bits of tin roofing, bricks, cardboard; in essence, trash. It all pulls together to provide a homeless soul with a place to live. We see this poor individual sat upright, protected in part from the storm. He is leaning against a wall with his sleeping bag pressed bellow him. His face is obscured by a baseball cap, with his head tilted also, but we can see he has not shaven for a good while with a long, filthy goatee. His hair is as wild on top of his head also. It too is unwashed and unshaven.

In complete contrast to this image of poor and filth, a shiny, brand new limousine pulls up. It does not gain the attention of the homeless man, nor does the door of the driver opening. A chauffer, well dressed despite the conditions, exits and opens the door for his passenger. The limo is dark and the figure within cannot be seen. Something begins to emerge from the vehicle door; an umbrella. The rain shield is soon followed by a hand and then an entire body as out steps Steven Holmes. He nods to the driver to stand by the car before grinning sinisterly.

Holmes: At last...

Holmes moves forwards, treading carefully as to not sully his expensive footwear. As he dodges a puddle he continues moving forward.

Holmes: ...I have found you...

As he steps over what appears to be a used tin can, he stands tall over the homeless man, casting a grim shadow across the deprived being.

Holmes: ...Doug Crashin!

Suddenly, in recognition of not only his name, but also the dulcet tones of the one uttering it, the now identified Crashin lifts his scum ridden head upwards. He smirks as he bears witness to Steven Holmes. He even takes the baseball cap off, as a mark of respect for his former ally.

Holmes: Ah yes, how the mighty have fallen, eh Douglas?

No reply from Crashin, simply a continued smirk. Holmes beams with one of his own, fully comfortable in the self belief that he has risen higher than Crashin could ever hope.

Holmes: So, You are bound to wonder why I have graced your presence with my brilliance, no?

Still nothing from Crashin besides that smirk. Now Holmes begins to grow agitated. His frustration slowly starting to simmer, his own smirk disappears and is replaced by a cold stare.

Holmes: Have you nothing to remark? Neither a pleasantry nor a common curtsey?

Crashin now begins to chuckle slightly, before flashing Holmes his now ruined teeth. Holmes winces at the very sight of such poor dental work.

Crashin: Well, this is a surprise.

Crashin’s speech is different to before. It is no longer as regal and polite as it once was. The harsh realities of the world outside his bubble and the poor dental hygiene have altered him.

Crashin: To think it has nearly been a year since you cost me my career and even assaulted me afterwards.

Holmes’ smile returns with a cackle as well.

Holmes: I cost you your career? Not exactly Douglas. That was your own fault. I merely cost you your health and your wealth too. I would say I ruined you, but you were always that way. I have merely performed the coup de grace and ended your miserable existence within wrestling and the upper echelon of society.

Crashin: Actually, you’re right.

Holmes appears to be somewhat surprised by this reaction and gives a look showcasing that view.

Crashin: I was miserable as a human being at that time. I was completely and utterly at fault for my own demise. I should never have walked with the elites of this world. You know why? Because that’s simply not who I am.

Holmes: And who are you then?

Crashin: I’m a man of simple pleasures. I’m a man who enjoys life for what it is; an experience. I’ve experienced the highs, the lows and I’m sure I’ll experience them all over again. I’ve found some peace within myself and I know that this will all be in the past soon enough. Once the world is fixed, I’ll be back to a normal life, one I can enjoy without it becoming overcomplicated by the petty things in life like money and power.

Holmes: You deem money and power as “petty”? That is foolish.

On the word foolish, a blast of thunder smashes the air, quickly followed by a flashing light from a lightning strike, signalling Holmes’ defiance at Crashin’s words.

Holmes: I have both of these qualities and my life has never been richer. It has never been greater. I live in the perfect place with my wife, I plot precariously with my allies such as John Constantine and I relish every opportunity I have to destroy another human being. It is glorious to hold these.

Crashin: Well that’s who you are, and I imagine Holmes it’s you always will be. I’m sure you didn’t come here to give me a lecture on what makes your life worth living, especially if you’re now aligned with John Constantine of all people. So why did you come here?

Holmes: Ah!

Motioning to the now very damp chauffer, Holmes indicates for his driver to present him with something. He pulls out a long case. Crashin is intrigued as the driver approaches, making sure it is safely under the umbrella’s protection before opening it, revealing the Elite Championship!

Crashin: Impressive, but what is it exactly?

Holmes: It is the finest of all my possessions.

Removing the belt from its case, Holmes slings it over his shoulder and sends the driver back to monitor the car once more.

Holmes: This is my Elite Championship. You see, while you fell darker into the abyss, I rose and didn’t stop, even once reaching the summit, I continued my ascension. I crippled you, removed Kurtsey from my life, obliterated Sam Smith in my quest to become Elite X Champion, ended Big Dave’s career, showed Austin Reynolds why I am indeed the Elite and, oh yes, bested Gordito in a number of ways and shall do so once more at the Lethal Lottery.

Crashin: Sounds like you’ve been busy then.

Holmes: Busy? My dear man, if I may refer to you as that, I have cast all those aside that have held me back, overcome demons personal to me, slain beasts deemed as unstoppable and forged a legacy, yet my quench for victory is unsatisfied. It is as I said, at the Lethal Lottery, I face Gordito. I defend my championship against this pleb with full knowledge of his willingness to revive the old Elite X Championship. I shall stop him from doing so, not only to protect my dynasty, but also to add yet another scalp to my ever growing collection. A victory here will provide me with the momentum I need to rise ever higher and compete within the Lethal Lottery.

Crashin: Before you move on with your grand plan for the Lottery match, I think you’re selling Gordito a little short.

Holmes catches him on this, likely noting that this is a all too familiar tune.

Holmes: Why? Why does everyone say that? Constantine, Copeland, Connor and yourself. All they talk about is how I underestimate a man I have dominated against. I made him submit in a legal match. I attacked him multiple times. Left him a lifeless shell. He is nothing I have not beaten before; a filth ridden piece of trash. His blood will flow freely as if it was the Ganges and I will laugh as I choke the final ounces of life from his lungs.

Crashin: Yes, but you forget, everyone has underestimated Gordito from his first day in the company. He rose to the top of the Mayhem ranks with little effort. I remember him overcoming the odds and becoming #1 contender when no one else thought he had a chance in hell. I’m sure he’s followed it up with similar feats since I’ve been gone.

Holmes: I suppose, but I have bested him in every conceivable way. And with the match type in my favour, a submission contest, I will cast him out like he was a jester in the court of kings. Lethal Lottery serves as my coronation event. I will not only cripple Gordito’s hopes and dreams, I take the top prize of the main event at Kingdom Come. I am a king in waiting. And you will all hail your king.

Crashin rolls his eyes and sighs, chuckling along with it. He looks back at Holmes who is distinctly unimpressed.

Crashin: Well, you are full of the same sort of hot air as I was. True you’ve accomplished more than me, and probably do have a brighter future than I ever had, but pride does come before a fall. I see something coming at you from beyond the Lottery. I don’t know what that is whether it’s a personal matter or a business one, but someone or something will come and find you, and it will test you like you have never been tested before. Who knows, perhaps this is Gordito.

Holmes: Are you dabbling in idiotic magic now? Who do you think you are, Ty Burna? The point is this Douglas, I am better than you ever have or ever will be. I want you to know that, because it offers me complete closure on the Crashin Movement. I have beaten it’s shadow. I am my own man and I will never ever be associated with you in a present context ever again. Kurtsey has the World Heavyweight Championship, and should I face him at Kingdom Come, I will annihilate him and this petty memory. I am better than you, him and everything else from that era.

Crashin: Kurtsey is the World Heavyweight Champion?

This is a breaking point for Holmes and he’s been pushed to the edge by Crashin, not recognising his greatness. Gordito is overlooked? Well in Holmes’ mind he is the one filling this role. He blasts Crashin with a stiff kick, sending him into the wall behind him, the shelter rocking, nearly collapsing. Holmes looks a little disturbed by his work before grinning like the coyote he is. Crashin is moving, but the back of his head is slightly bleeding. Holmes, rather than help the injured man, spits on him before lightly chuckling. A disgusted look crosses his face as he saunters back to his limo, instructing the driver to take him home as he re-enters the vehicle. Crashin groans and shifts, signalling life as we conclude.

 

[DirtyJosé]

What was once a slightly run down studio in downtown Los Angeles now looks new and full of life again; it is early evening, and guests have arrived to "Toxic Shock Studios" grand opening. Valet attendants scramble taking care of the flow of arrivals. A handful of artsy-punk types stand out front, wine glasses and cigarettes in hand.

Inside is a little crowded, but still open enough for people to move about. Wine, beer, and mixed drinks are being served along with some cheap snacks. The front room is all photos taken of Gordito; some are of him in various locations around town, some are of him in what appears to be a forest, and others are shots of him in the ring.

In the next room, where most of the people are gathered, are paintings done by The Dirty One himself. Most are very chaotic pieces, with lots of movement and color and little form. The crowd seem to be enjoying the work, each sharing their thoughts and opinions with each other in hushed but still excited tones. Gordito stands side-by-side with Becky Serra near a curtain with a ribbon in front of it. The door seemingly leads to the last room, and likely some last piece to show for the evening.

Gordito: As you can see, it's been a successful opening here so far tonight. I was a little worried about the reception, but the local artist's community has been very welcoming of me. Some had no idea who I was or what I did before this, so here's hoping maybe I've turned some of them on to being fans. I had to cut back on a lot of my usual antics to get the work done, but it feels great to be able to sit back now and enjoy it.

Becky: Do you think in some ways it feels like when you opened up The Sludge Pit back on the east coast?

Gordito: In some ways, yeah. Getting something done. Having a vision and seeing it through. But here, it's always going to need input. The Sludge Pit just kinda started running itself, you know? My boy Jack is still out there keeping it together. Here, there'll always be something for me to do if I want to. I can make new pieces to show, or seek out people I'd like to show off here. Maybe I can even get some of the boys to contribute stuff.

Becky: That certainly seems like an...interesting...idea. Some of the guys are rather...disturbed.

Gordito: I'd love to see what Barbosa would come up with.

Becky: So, speaking of the boys, Lethal Lottery is just around the corner in a few days. Though we know that you won't be a part of the Lottery event, word has come out that you will be facing off against long-time rival Steven Holmes. What's more, this will be an Elite X Championship match. There's clearly no love lost between the two of you. What do you expect come the Lottery?

Gordito: Expect? Baby, this is Holmes. Ally-buttboy of Constantine. So right off the bat, you know I can expect that big-headed stooge to poke around and try to keep things uneven. You know I can expect some low, underhanded tactics. But you also know that past everything else, Holmes is a solid obstacle with a keen eye for strategy and tactics. The guy is a man with a plan at most all times.

Becky: His plans have often crossed paths with you, intentionally or not.

Gordito: We all came in together, you know? Wasabi, Holmes and I. And even in that first match, Holmes left with a bit of a chip on his shoulder because of me.

Becky: Do you think that is why Holmes has seemingly singled you out recently?

Gordito: Well, I don't think the guy's been stewing at home in front of a Dirty One hate shrine in his closet, if that's what you're asking. But I think it plays a part in it. Holmes is a guy looking to get up to that next level. He looks around, and other guys are passing him by. Guys like Sam Smith. Guys that others tell him are better than he is. Guys the announcers put over as out of his league. So he makes it a crusade. He makes it his point to try and prove himself as better than the next guy. Which, you know, I'm all for baby. We just go about it in different ways. He made it through Smith, and now I guess I'm on the list.

Becky: So you're saying you can relate to Holmes? That you respect him in some way?

Gordito: Absolutely. I mean, yeah, he's a rat. He's got rat friends and together they do rat things and if you're gonna dance with one you have to know that you're gonna end up dancing with all of them. But that's just his way. The way that makes sense to him. And if he thinks that taking me on, that throwing his best against me, is going to get him up to that level he wants to be on, I'm flattered. I flat out encourage that kind of thinking. Be hungry. Be passionate. But come Lethal Lottery, he better hope that's he's as good as he thinks he is. I don't take challenges lightly.

Becky: The Dirty One, as always, is looking forward to the fight then?

Gordito: You know it, Becky. This is right where I like to be. Pay Per View! A worthy rival! A glorious prize! This could be it, baby. This could be Gordito's first taste of WZCW gold. I can't think of anything that would make this better.

A young hipster girl approaches Gordito and whispers into his ear. He nods and then turns to Becky as the girl leaves.

Gordito: It's time, Becky.

Gordito stands up as the girl, now on the other side of the curtain from him, speaks to the crowd.

Girl: Thank you all once again for coming to the opening of "Toxic Shock Studios". We are so very happy to see that so many of you have come to support us, and we are very excited about becoming a part of the rich artistic community here in Los Angeles.

The crowd give applause.

Girl: At this time, I'd like to draw your attention to the man who made this all happen. A musician, an entrepreneur, a professional wrestler, and more importantly for us tonight, an artist.

Gordito waves at the crowd as the cheer him.

Girl: And now, we'd like to introduce his finest contribution to the studio.

Many of the lights go dim as lights can be seen behind the curtain. Everyone waits with bated breath. After a few seconds, the curtains drop, and the crowds gasps in awe at the work. Standing at 6' tall and made out of solid rock, the crowd finds itself staring at a statue of Gordito, in full wrestling gear, delivering a Meteor of War to a Mountain Lion. A few of the audience members whisper among themselves.

"...like a representation of Man conquering Nature..."

"...so primal..."

"...the nobility of the warrior..."

Becky, however, tries to muffle a laugh. She looks to see if she's a offended anyone, and finds Gordito next to her, smiling widely.

Gordito: Naw, it's ok Becky. It is pretty ridiculous.

Becky: I don't think I expected anything less else from you.