MD 69: Ty Burna, Blade, and Barbosa vs. Steven Kurtesy, Gordito, and Drake Callahan
- Thread starter Ty Burna
- Start date
- Status
The scene opens in Blades locker room where Mick Overlast and Scott Hammond are doing push-ups side by side as Blade stands before them, pacing back and forth, smoking of course.
Come on, dont start slacking off now. The Lethal Lottery is getting closer and closer every day.
Blade puts a foot on Hammonds back to put extra pressure on him. Hammond grimaces at first but then grits his teeth and keeps doing the push-ups although slightly slower than before.
You have two matches at Lethal Lottery. That means you have to work twice as hard. No one leaves here until Im satisfied that enough work has been done.
Blade takes a deep drag and removes his foot from Hammonds back. He turns to Overlast who, with a sigh, gets to his feet.
Im not doing anymore. I'm done.
Blade looks slightly surprised and exhales, awaiting an explanation from Overlast.
Im in peak physical condition. I dont need to be doing damn push-ups, Im not sixteen. Why arent we out in the ring learning how to be the best wrestlers we can be so we can take down this damn company? I thought thats what I signed up for!
Blade gives a laugh and even Hammond gives a smirk as he continues his rigorous exercise regime.
You want to take down this company? You dont need training in the ring. You need training up here.
Blade taps his temple.
Once you learn to push through your physical discomfort and become mentally strong, thats when youll be able to reach where you want to be. Thats what those idiots who run this company lack and its what gives us the advantage. Listen, Ill give you one opportunity right here and now to bail. You leave, we carry on with our cause, no hard feelings. But if you do that, how will you be any better than those veteran who do half the work we do and make twice the money that we do?
Overlast seems to be speechless as he looks Blade in the eyes. Finally he just nods and gets on the ground to continue the push-ups.
All you have to do is keep this up, lads. First we make the titles our own, then we make Kingdom Come our own, then we make the company our own
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Vance Bateman is sitting in his office, sipping a large scotch. His door knocks and he lets out a sigh and puts the glass on the floor under his desk.
Come in.
Blade opens the door with a smirk on his face and Bateman rubs his eyes wearily.
Hey now, I have stayed out of your way for months. And today, I think we can help each other.
Bateman doesnt immediately scoff at the idea of Blade being able to help him like Blade expected. Instead he motions for Blade to sit down.
Ill have one of those scotches, please.
How did you know ?
Im Irish. I can smell alcohol from a hundred metres away.
Bateman mumbles something under his breath and places his glass back on the table. He gets up and crosses the room to his collection of bottles and begins talking again as he pours Blade a drink.
So why do you want me to help you? In fact, why do you think I will help you? Your comments about my colleagues and I in the last few months have been far from savoury.
Youre a smart man, you should understand my frustration. Regarded as one of the very best on the planet and the greatest EurAsian champion this company has ever seen and I havent even smelled a world title shot.
Thats what you want?
No. I dont need that from you as I plan to win the Lethal Lottery.
Bateman walks back over with Blades drink, shaking his head at the conviction behind the wrestlers words. He hands Blade the glass and sits back down at his desk.
Thanks. Anyway, I want you to pass on a message to Ty Burna. Youre his business partner now, I assume you are the best medium to send him a message.
Im not your messenger!
I didnt mean any disrespect. I just meant that youre the only one whos in a position to contact him directly.
Why dont you give the message to one of his Apostles?
Because I dont feel like getting the crap kicked out of me today.
Bateman rolls his eyes and takes a sip from his glass. He rubs his chin and lets out another sigh.
Okay. What will you do for me?
You have several guys in the locker room who are Shall we say, not so bright? But even the dumbest guys know whats going on between you and Burna. Today, a power struggle; tomorrow, a battle A war. And you know how good and how dangerous the Sons of Destiny are. When it comes time to choose sides, doing this favour for us will work out very well for you.
Youll take on the Apostles?
I cant guarantee that. What I can guarantee, though, is that I wont join them.
The silence lingers in the room as Bateman lets the words sink in. He empties his glass and looks Blade in the eyes with a stern look.
You better not betray me, Blade.
Blade slowly shakes his head, his expression sincere. Bateman relaxes a tad and leans back in his chair.
Whats the message for Burna?
Blade gets up out of his seat as Bateman takes out a pen, his reading glasses and a small notepad. Blade starts pacing slowly and takes a sip of his drink as he carefully weighs his words.
For the attention of Mr. Ty Burna, co-owner of Wrestlezone Championship Wrestling. I want to make a proposition to you. As Im sure youre well aware, we have been booked together in a six man tag team match. With you, your buddy Barbosa and I taking on Kurtesy, Gordito and Callahan. My proposition is a simple one. You and Barbosa must protect me in the tag team match. Im well aware that my allies and I are considered a threat by you, and rightly so. But when youve already made an enemy out of Mr. Bateman and all his supporters, can you afford to make an enemy out of the Sons of Destiny? With all due respect to the Apostles, we are on track to being the most powerful group in this company and at a later date, we will be will to prove it against you and your team. But for now, I just want you to think logically and make sure we do not do something we will regret come Meltdown. You and Barbosa do not abandon me and I will not abandon you. We must forget about one-upmanship heading into the Lethal Lottery. We remain a team of three that we will need to be when taking on such powerful opponents. I hope you will take my proposal into account and make the right decision. Yours sincerely, future World Heavyweight champion, Blade.
Bateman writes the last sentence and takes off his reading glasses as he looks up at Blade.
Do you have a death wish? Why are you doing this?
I do everything for a reason. It gives me an advantage in the long term. In the short term, I dont get screwed over at Meltdown.
The three men youre up against arent likely to continue the match if Burna and Barbosa abandon you!
Arent they? At the end of the day, a win is a win, no matter how nice you are. Heading towards Kingdom Come, momentum means everything. Im the reason that Gordito isnt in the Lethal Lottery match. Hes an easy going guy, but you know that had to hurt him and I know hes going to want to get some measure of revenge on me. His kind of revenge, pinning me in the ring, 1, 2, 3.
Blade takes a drink from the glass and wipes his mouth as he continues pacing.
Callahan is somewhat of a wild card Ive never faced the guy before but Ive always found the idea of a match against him quite appealing. Hes on a roll since returning but lets be honest, hes just Gordito without the bar. Just as easy to beat.
Dont forget youre facing the new world champion too
How long has it been since we havent had a world champion that wasnt new? It seems like the most inconsistent wrestler in this company is always the world champion these days. That alone gives me confidence against Kurtesy this week. He also had a tough match last week, far tougher than my match was. Honestly, part of me hopes that Kurtesy can actually keep the title for more than a few weeks He would make a great opponent for me at Kingdom Come.
Blade puts the glass down on Batemans table.
I think that about covers all the bases. And when you consider my tag team partners for this match, it shouldnt be much of a problem.
Blade walks towards the door. He puts his hand on the handle but turns towards Bateman before opening the door.
I have no idea why you would book this match. Three guys who hate the Apostles and youre setting them up for a fall
Blade opens the door and strides out of the room, leaving Bateman speechless.
Come on, dont start slacking off now. The Lethal Lottery is getting closer and closer every day.
Blade puts a foot on Hammonds back to put extra pressure on him. Hammond grimaces at first but then grits his teeth and keeps doing the push-ups although slightly slower than before.
You have two matches at Lethal Lottery. That means you have to work twice as hard. No one leaves here until Im satisfied that enough work has been done.
Blade takes a deep drag and removes his foot from Hammonds back. He turns to Overlast who, with a sigh, gets to his feet.
Im not doing anymore. I'm done.
Blade looks slightly surprised and exhales, awaiting an explanation from Overlast.
Im in peak physical condition. I dont need to be doing damn push-ups, Im not sixteen. Why arent we out in the ring learning how to be the best wrestlers we can be so we can take down this damn company? I thought thats what I signed up for!
Blade gives a laugh and even Hammond gives a smirk as he continues his rigorous exercise regime.
You want to take down this company? You dont need training in the ring. You need training up here.
Blade taps his temple.
Once you learn to push through your physical discomfort and become mentally strong, thats when youll be able to reach where you want to be. Thats what those idiots who run this company lack and its what gives us the advantage. Listen, Ill give you one opportunity right here and now to bail. You leave, we carry on with our cause, no hard feelings. But if you do that, how will you be any better than those veteran who do half the work we do and make twice the money that we do?
Overlast seems to be speechless as he looks Blade in the eyes. Finally he just nods and gets on the ground to continue the push-ups.
All you have to do is keep this up, lads. First we make the titles our own, then we make Kingdom Come our own, then we make the company our own
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Vance Bateman is sitting in his office, sipping a large scotch. His door knocks and he lets out a sigh and puts the glass on the floor under his desk.
Come in.
Blade opens the door with a smirk on his face and Bateman rubs his eyes wearily.
Hey now, I have stayed out of your way for months. And today, I think we can help each other.
Bateman doesnt immediately scoff at the idea of Blade being able to help him like Blade expected. Instead he motions for Blade to sit down.
Ill have one of those scotches, please.
How did you know ?
Im Irish. I can smell alcohol from a hundred metres away.
Bateman mumbles something under his breath and places his glass back on the table. He gets up and crosses the room to his collection of bottles and begins talking again as he pours Blade a drink.
So why do you want me to help you? In fact, why do you think I will help you? Your comments about my colleagues and I in the last few months have been far from savoury.
Youre a smart man, you should understand my frustration. Regarded as one of the very best on the planet and the greatest EurAsian champion this company has ever seen and I havent even smelled a world title shot.
Thats what you want?
No. I dont need that from you as I plan to win the Lethal Lottery.
Bateman walks back over with Blades drink, shaking his head at the conviction behind the wrestlers words. He hands Blade the glass and sits back down at his desk.
Thanks. Anyway, I want you to pass on a message to Ty Burna. Youre his business partner now, I assume you are the best medium to send him a message.
Im not your messenger!
I didnt mean any disrespect. I just meant that youre the only one whos in a position to contact him directly.
Why dont you give the message to one of his Apostles?
Because I dont feel like getting the crap kicked out of me today.
Bateman rolls his eyes and takes a sip from his glass. He rubs his chin and lets out another sigh.
Okay. What will you do for me?
You have several guys in the locker room who are Shall we say, not so bright? But even the dumbest guys know whats going on between you and Burna. Today, a power struggle; tomorrow, a battle A war. And you know how good and how dangerous the Sons of Destiny are. When it comes time to choose sides, doing this favour for us will work out very well for you.
Youll take on the Apostles?
I cant guarantee that. What I can guarantee, though, is that I wont join them.
The silence lingers in the room as Bateman lets the words sink in. He empties his glass and looks Blade in the eyes with a stern look.
You better not betray me, Blade.
Blade slowly shakes his head, his expression sincere. Bateman relaxes a tad and leans back in his chair.
Whats the message for Burna?
Blade gets up out of his seat as Bateman takes out a pen, his reading glasses and a small notepad. Blade starts pacing slowly and takes a sip of his drink as he carefully weighs his words.
For the attention of Mr. Ty Burna, co-owner of Wrestlezone Championship Wrestling. I want to make a proposition to you. As Im sure youre well aware, we have been booked together in a six man tag team match. With you, your buddy Barbosa and I taking on Kurtesy, Gordito and Callahan. My proposition is a simple one. You and Barbosa must protect me in the tag team match. Im well aware that my allies and I are considered a threat by you, and rightly so. But when youve already made an enemy out of Mr. Bateman and all his supporters, can you afford to make an enemy out of the Sons of Destiny? With all due respect to the Apostles, we are on track to being the most powerful group in this company and at a later date, we will be will to prove it against you and your team. But for now, I just want you to think logically and make sure we do not do something we will regret come Meltdown. You and Barbosa do not abandon me and I will not abandon you. We must forget about one-upmanship heading into the Lethal Lottery. We remain a team of three that we will need to be when taking on such powerful opponents. I hope you will take my proposal into account and make the right decision. Yours sincerely, future World Heavyweight champion, Blade.
Bateman writes the last sentence and takes off his reading glasses as he looks up at Blade.
Do you have a death wish? Why are you doing this?
I do everything for a reason. It gives me an advantage in the long term. In the short term, I dont get screwed over at Meltdown.
The three men youre up against arent likely to continue the match if Burna and Barbosa abandon you!
Arent they? At the end of the day, a win is a win, no matter how nice you are. Heading towards Kingdom Come, momentum means everything. Im the reason that Gordito isnt in the Lethal Lottery match. Hes an easy going guy, but you know that had to hurt him and I know hes going to want to get some measure of revenge on me. His kind of revenge, pinning me in the ring, 1, 2, 3.
Blade takes a drink from the glass and wipes his mouth as he continues pacing.
Callahan is somewhat of a wild card Ive never faced the guy before but Ive always found the idea of a match against him quite appealing. Hes on a roll since returning but lets be honest, hes just Gordito without the bar. Just as easy to beat.
Dont forget youre facing the new world champion too
How long has it been since we havent had a world champion that wasnt new? It seems like the most inconsistent wrestler in this company is always the world champion these days. That alone gives me confidence against Kurtesy this week. He also had a tough match last week, far tougher than my match was. Honestly, part of me hopes that Kurtesy can actually keep the title for more than a few weeks He would make a great opponent for me at Kingdom Come.
Blade puts the glass down on Batemans table.
I think that about covers all the bases. And when you consider my tag team partners for this match, it shouldnt be much of a problem.
Blade walks towards the door. He puts his hand on the handle but turns towards Bateman before opening the door.
I have no idea why you would book this match. Three guys who hate the Apostles and youre setting them up for a fall
Blade opens the door and strides out of the room, leaving Bateman speechless.
Ty Burna
Getting Noticed By Management
The scene opens to the typical darkened room, candles lit in the corners emitting just enough light for the camera to make out the environment. As it pans around the room, it reveals to be in a study of sort, shelves of books lining each side of the room. A large dark oak table sits in the center of the study, multiple scrolls and old books strewn out across the surface. Towards the end of the room a large desk sits, a large red leather chair turned away from the camera. As the camera moves closer a blowing wind suddenly invades the room, stopping the camera in its tracks. The red leather chair slowly spins around, revealing Ty Burna sitting, his eyes glowing red. He wears a black suit, with thin white pinstripes running down the length of it. A red tie completes the outfit, and he throws his legs up onto the desk, revealing himself to still be wearing black boots, multiple straps can be seen buckled along the shin and ankle. A smirk plays on his face as he folds his hands in his lap, his long raven locks tied back behind him.
Ty: Many of you are wondering just what I intend to do with Meltdown. You have seen me make matches that have bode well for my allies, and well a perfectly fine officiated World Title match last week. But yet you can't seem to put your finger on the pulse of my motives can you? Why would a man of an occult nature suddenly be interested in business?
Ty sits back into his chair, crossing one leg over the other as he closes his eyes, a low laugh emitting from him as he lowers his head momentarily before lifting it back up, opening his eyes slowly, his irises now reverting to normal. His smirk grows into a maniacal smile as his laugh grows louder, echoing throughout the study.
It is quite simple. I am going to make Vance Bateman's life a living hell. I am going to make every pathetic soul who has ever defied me walk through the proverbial gauntlet. You want to believe I want the World Title back, and while it is true that our current situation regarding the title has been less than stellar, at least compared to my reign as champion, it is a secondary goal at the moment. With the likes of my protege Chris K.O., Dr. Alhazred and our newest member Wasabi Toyota, the Apostles have become stronger then ever before. I find it interesting that the moment I grasp power unlike any other warrior in WZCW has, that the old guard comes flying out of the woodwork. They want to be the heroes, the ones to put down the unholy reign of terror I have unleashed upon this company. Celeste Crimson, you have always been nothing more then a pawn to me, even as it was with your poor kidnapping. At the time you were chosen to become the very first of my Apostles, and yet instead you defied me, you walked away from the power I can offer, and now you stand, believing yourself a martyr and a savior. You are nothing more than the same coward and self centered woman you were when we first met!
Ty removes his feet off the desk, his head lowering again as he leans down into his chair, his arms resting on the wooden armrests of the chair. His fingers slowly slide up the oak, pushing his body forward and up. He stands to his full height, the breeze coming into the room again even as there are no windows open. His eyes begin glowing red and his smile disappears, reverting to a scowl.
You will be dealt with Crimson, and it will be the future King of Darkness that rids WZCW of you once again. I have no tolerance for your insolence! But enough about you, your time here will be short so I shall no longer waste my breath on you further. At Meltdown I have chosen two of the very best to be alongside me, the number one contender to the World Title and the newly focused Barbosa. This man understands exactly what I am trying to accomplish. Of course he will directly reap the benefits of my influence, and soon he will be the World Champion I can be proud of to represent MY company! He has tasted the glory of being the best once, that thirst never leaves you once you have experienced it. I should know the best out of anyone. My title was ripped away from me, and now you see the Chaos that has grown from the gold leaving its master's side. Soon it will find it's way back to where it belongs, but for now I shall allow Barbosa to carry my ultimate prize.
Ty runs his hand through his hair as he throws his head back. A low guttural growl escapes him as his voice begins to deepen. He brings his head back forward, walking around the desk and to the desk. He grabs hold of a scroll, ancient Celtic text scrawled across the parchment. He gazes down at it before crumbling the scroll in his hand.
Of course my second partner is the reliably ungrateful Blade. A man who has always been the most technically skilled warrior in WZCW. I truly believe his skills would be the perfect complement to the utter destruction and brutality Barbosa and myself bring to the war, and yet I would believe him to be grateful. I gave him the golden opportunity to lift himself to the next level, to be equal among those that have held the world title. And yet he sits there, sending empty threats towards me and my clan. Blade, your skills are to be respected, but your eye for talent is severely lacking. Your bag boy Scott Hammond was nothing without my monstrosity of force Wasabi Toyota. What has he done since then? Nothing!
Ty slams his hand down onto the table, the heavy oak suddenly cracking all the way down the length of the table. Books and scrolls go scattering across the room from the force of the blow. Ty places his other hand on the table, lowering his head as his breathing becomes heavy as he tries to control his rage from bubbling to the surface. His voice becomes haggard, almost to a whisper as he begins speaking once more.
It matters not Blade. Let us destroy those that oppose us on Meltdown. We can share in one night the glory of victory together. If you wish to sacrifice your life to the Chaos, you can oppose me at a later time. I will be more then glad to dissect you bit by bit at that time. But for this one moment, our opponents are three men who believe themselves saviors, they believe to the champions of WZCW. I chose these three men specifically, to show the strength and power I wield as owner of Meltdown. All three men I have had past history with, and of course three men I have crushed again and again. They will no doubt focus on me, but because of this my partners will deliver the lethal blow to their hopes of victory. You three, you are nothing to me!
He throws his head up again, his hair flying behind him and to the side as the breeze picks up around Ty, more scrolls go flying as the ground begins shaking, books falling from the shelves around the table and Ty. His eyes glow a violent red once more, a loud scream escaping him as he holds his hands up, the shaking becoming more violent.
Drake Callahan! Do not think for one second I have forgotten how you stole my Eurasian Championship from me! Do not think for one moment that throwing you off of a ladder and breaking your spirit makes up for that insulting loss! I have asked Chaos for this chance, another opportunity to break you over my knee, listening as the alcohol and blood gurgles up into your trachea, choking on the very life force you depend on, your eyes slowly seeping that same blood. It shall be a glorious moment Callahan! Showtime couldn't end you during our wars, he didn't have the instinct to do it! Of course it will be up to me to do what he couldn't, and send you into the miasma of your own sin!
Ty begins laughing once more, the shaking mimicking the volume of his laughter. The shelves themselves begin to fall over, destroying what is left of the oak table. Splinters go flying around the room, and as they reach Ty, they stop, almost forming a barrier or aura around him.
Gordito, ah Gordito. Another one that had an opportunity to be one of my Apostles. Do you not see Gordito what you could have become? You could have become my greatest disciple. Out of the blackness of my heart, I guided you, gave you the words necessary to become the great warrior you believed yourself to become. But now you have turned your back on all my teachings. You returned and sided with Austin Reynolds. Did you not see what I accomplished with my actions then Gordito? I brought the fighting dog out of Reynolds. I made him a greater opponent then even Showtime could offer! He became the challenge you never will become! You are soft Gordito, you were hardened once by my lessons, and yet you threw that away, and for what? To continue your materialistic existence? To value your parties and glad hand friends who want nothing more then to suck away everything that you own over the thrill of battle and war? It is unacceptable! To throw away that which I had given you for nothing, for a life that will end in misery and utter despair! Meltdown is just the beginning of the inflicted punishment, it is the alpha of your demise Gordito, and I shall be the reaper, my scythe slowly slicing away every level until there is nothing but the id. Your primal instincts will return, and we will make you the warrior you were destined to be!
As the shaking continues, the candles in the room fall down and ignite the splinters of wood surrounding Ty. As the embers circle him, he holds his hand out, the embers gathering into the palm of his hand. He gazes down into the flames, the fire reflecting somehow in his glowing red eyes.
Congratulations are in order Steven Kurtesy. I watched with intrigue as you proved yet again how unreliable Titus has always been. His big moment, regaining the World Title that I helped in taking away, shattered within mere weeks by someone he considers as a lesser opponent. I was truly enthralled in joy as I got to be the one to deliver the final nail in the coffin. His reign will go down as pathetic as Big Dave's. You see Kurtesy, and you will find this out once Barbosa thrashes you within an inch of your life at the Lethal Lottery, it is not only just winning the World Title, it is about defending the ultimate prize as if your life depends on it. It is the mentality that all those that surround you need to be ended that will carry you on as champion. It is that drive that carried me to my record breaking reign. It is the lack of that mentality that the likes of Titus and Big Dave fell so soon. So the question is Kurtesy, is there still some of that sick demented doctor behind that fraudulent mask you wear? I will be the first to test you Kurtesy, I have always been the nightmare that haunts your musings and meditations. You have fallen time after time by my hand, your allies crushed under the power of Chaos. Serenity will get you no where Steven, the beautiful savagery that comes with being World Champion will force you to make a choice. Remain serene, and watch as your reign ends as soon as it starts, or fall into the chasm of Chaos that I have created, baptize yourself in the insanity and the brutality, and emerge a new warrior with renewed hunger?
Ty grasps his hands around the embers, his eyes remained open and glowing fiercely. The maniacal smile returns to his face as the tornado of scrolls and lit embers swirling throughout the room.
You do not have it in you Kurtesy. It is why Barbosa will emerge as World Champion once again, another representative of my power and the influence Chaos reigns supreme over WZCW. Vance Bateman will have no choice but to watch as my handpicked group decimates those that he believes he can count on. He will watch as my minions slowly destroy his beloved show, and the Chaos will consume Ascension just as it controls Meltdown. I am the harbringer! I am the one who brings deliverance and judgement upon those that oppose Chaos! While my reign nears its end, I am still the King of Darkness!
With that Ty brings his hand up and tosses the embers into the air, the embers exploding in mid air and completely consuming the study. The scene goes black for a few moments, when all that can be seen is Ty's glowing red eyes in the darkness.
And I shall be the one to burn WZCW to the ground. The temple of Chaos will be rebuilt upon the ashes of my destruction, only to become the foundation of my ultimate creation!
The feed cuts out.
Ty: Many of you are wondering just what I intend to do with Meltdown. You have seen me make matches that have bode well for my allies, and well a perfectly fine officiated World Title match last week. But yet you can't seem to put your finger on the pulse of my motives can you? Why would a man of an occult nature suddenly be interested in business?
Ty sits back into his chair, crossing one leg over the other as he closes his eyes, a low laugh emitting from him as he lowers his head momentarily before lifting it back up, opening his eyes slowly, his irises now reverting to normal. His smirk grows into a maniacal smile as his laugh grows louder, echoing throughout the study.
It is quite simple. I am going to make Vance Bateman's life a living hell. I am going to make every pathetic soul who has ever defied me walk through the proverbial gauntlet. You want to believe I want the World Title back, and while it is true that our current situation regarding the title has been less than stellar, at least compared to my reign as champion, it is a secondary goal at the moment. With the likes of my protege Chris K.O., Dr. Alhazred and our newest member Wasabi Toyota, the Apostles have become stronger then ever before. I find it interesting that the moment I grasp power unlike any other warrior in WZCW has, that the old guard comes flying out of the woodwork. They want to be the heroes, the ones to put down the unholy reign of terror I have unleashed upon this company. Celeste Crimson, you have always been nothing more then a pawn to me, even as it was with your poor kidnapping. At the time you were chosen to become the very first of my Apostles, and yet instead you defied me, you walked away from the power I can offer, and now you stand, believing yourself a martyr and a savior. You are nothing more than the same coward and self centered woman you were when we first met!
Ty removes his feet off the desk, his head lowering again as he leans down into his chair, his arms resting on the wooden armrests of the chair. His fingers slowly slide up the oak, pushing his body forward and up. He stands to his full height, the breeze coming into the room again even as there are no windows open. His eyes begin glowing red and his smile disappears, reverting to a scowl.
You will be dealt with Crimson, and it will be the future King of Darkness that rids WZCW of you once again. I have no tolerance for your insolence! But enough about you, your time here will be short so I shall no longer waste my breath on you further. At Meltdown I have chosen two of the very best to be alongside me, the number one contender to the World Title and the newly focused Barbosa. This man understands exactly what I am trying to accomplish. Of course he will directly reap the benefits of my influence, and soon he will be the World Champion I can be proud of to represent MY company! He has tasted the glory of being the best once, that thirst never leaves you once you have experienced it. I should know the best out of anyone. My title was ripped away from me, and now you see the Chaos that has grown from the gold leaving its master's side. Soon it will find it's way back to where it belongs, but for now I shall allow Barbosa to carry my ultimate prize.
Ty runs his hand through his hair as he throws his head back. A low guttural growl escapes him as his voice begins to deepen. He brings his head back forward, walking around the desk and to the desk. He grabs hold of a scroll, ancient Celtic text scrawled across the parchment. He gazes down at it before crumbling the scroll in his hand.
Of course my second partner is the reliably ungrateful Blade. A man who has always been the most technically skilled warrior in WZCW. I truly believe his skills would be the perfect complement to the utter destruction and brutality Barbosa and myself bring to the war, and yet I would believe him to be grateful. I gave him the golden opportunity to lift himself to the next level, to be equal among those that have held the world title. And yet he sits there, sending empty threats towards me and my clan. Blade, your skills are to be respected, but your eye for talent is severely lacking. Your bag boy Scott Hammond was nothing without my monstrosity of force Wasabi Toyota. What has he done since then? Nothing!
Ty slams his hand down onto the table, the heavy oak suddenly cracking all the way down the length of the table. Books and scrolls go scattering across the room from the force of the blow. Ty places his other hand on the table, lowering his head as his breathing becomes heavy as he tries to control his rage from bubbling to the surface. His voice becomes haggard, almost to a whisper as he begins speaking once more.
It matters not Blade. Let us destroy those that oppose us on Meltdown. We can share in one night the glory of victory together. If you wish to sacrifice your life to the Chaos, you can oppose me at a later time. I will be more then glad to dissect you bit by bit at that time. But for this one moment, our opponents are three men who believe themselves saviors, they believe to the champions of WZCW. I chose these three men specifically, to show the strength and power I wield as owner of Meltdown. All three men I have had past history with, and of course three men I have crushed again and again. They will no doubt focus on me, but because of this my partners will deliver the lethal blow to their hopes of victory. You three, you are nothing to me!
He throws his head up again, his hair flying behind him and to the side as the breeze picks up around Ty, more scrolls go flying as the ground begins shaking, books falling from the shelves around the table and Ty. His eyes glow a violent red once more, a loud scream escaping him as he holds his hands up, the shaking becoming more violent.
Drake Callahan! Do not think for one second I have forgotten how you stole my Eurasian Championship from me! Do not think for one moment that throwing you off of a ladder and breaking your spirit makes up for that insulting loss! I have asked Chaos for this chance, another opportunity to break you over my knee, listening as the alcohol and blood gurgles up into your trachea, choking on the very life force you depend on, your eyes slowly seeping that same blood. It shall be a glorious moment Callahan! Showtime couldn't end you during our wars, he didn't have the instinct to do it! Of course it will be up to me to do what he couldn't, and send you into the miasma of your own sin!
Ty begins laughing once more, the shaking mimicking the volume of his laughter. The shelves themselves begin to fall over, destroying what is left of the oak table. Splinters go flying around the room, and as they reach Ty, they stop, almost forming a barrier or aura around him.
Gordito, ah Gordito. Another one that had an opportunity to be one of my Apostles. Do you not see Gordito what you could have become? You could have become my greatest disciple. Out of the blackness of my heart, I guided you, gave you the words necessary to become the great warrior you believed yourself to become. But now you have turned your back on all my teachings. You returned and sided with Austin Reynolds. Did you not see what I accomplished with my actions then Gordito? I brought the fighting dog out of Reynolds. I made him a greater opponent then even Showtime could offer! He became the challenge you never will become! You are soft Gordito, you were hardened once by my lessons, and yet you threw that away, and for what? To continue your materialistic existence? To value your parties and glad hand friends who want nothing more then to suck away everything that you own over the thrill of battle and war? It is unacceptable! To throw away that which I had given you for nothing, for a life that will end in misery and utter despair! Meltdown is just the beginning of the inflicted punishment, it is the alpha of your demise Gordito, and I shall be the reaper, my scythe slowly slicing away every level until there is nothing but the id. Your primal instincts will return, and we will make you the warrior you were destined to be!
As the shaking continues, the candles in the room fall down and ignite the splinters of wood surrounding Ty. As the embers circle him, he holds his hand out, the embers gathering into the palm of his hand. He gazes down into the flames, the fire reflecting somehow in his glowing red eyes.
Congratulations are in order Steven Kurtesy. I watched with intrigue as you proved yet again how unreliable Titus has always been. His big moment, regaining the World Title that I helped in taking away, shattered within mere weeks by someone he considers as a lesser opponent. I was truly enthralled in joy as I got to be the one to deliver the final nail in the coffin. His reign will go down as pathetic as Big Dave's. You see Kurtesy, and you will find this out once Barbosa thrashes you within an inch of your life at the Lethal Lottery, it is not only just winning the World Title, it is about defending the ultimate prize as if your life depends on it. It is the mentality that all those that surround you need to be ended that will carry you on as champion. It is that drive that carried me to my record breaking reign. It is the lack of that mentality that the likes of Titus and Big Dave fell so soon. So the question is Kurtesy, is there still some of that sick demented doctor behind that fraudulent mask you wear? I will be the first to test you Kurtesy, I have always been the nightmare that haunts your musings and meditations. You have fallen time after time by my hand, your allies crushed under the power of Chaos. Serenity will get you no where Steven, the beautiful savagery that comes with being World Champion will force you to make a choice. Remain serene, and watch as your reign ends as soon as it starts, or fall into the chasm of Chaos that I have created, baptize yourself in the insanity and the brutality, and emerge a new warrior with renewed hunger?
Ty grasps his hands around the embers, his eyes remained open and glowing fiercely. The maniacal smile returns to his face as the tornado of scrolls and lit embers swirling throughout the room.
You do not have it in you Kurtesy. It is why Barbosa will emerge as World Champion once again, another representative of my power and the influence Chaos reigns supreme over WZCW. Vance Bateman will have no choice but to watch as my handpicked group decimates those that he believes he can count on. He will watch as my minions slowly destroy his beloved show, and the Chaos will consume Ascension just as it controls Meltdown. I am the harbringer! I am the one who brings deliverance and judgement upon those that oppose Chaos! While my reign nears its end, I am still the King of Darkness!
With that Ty brings his hand up and tosses the embers into the air, the embers exploding in mid air and completely consuming the study. The scene goes black for a few moments, when all that can be seen is Ty's glowing red eyes in the darkness.
And I shall be the one to burn WZCW to the ground. The temple of Chaos will be rebuilt upon the ashes of my destruction, only to become the foundation of my ultimate creation!
The feed cuts out.
ÐаÑбоÑа
doesn't know REAL wrestling...
*Barbosa is sitting in an airport lounge bound for yet another far-flung corner of North America. However, rather than finding a secluded corner of the lounge, trying to hide his presence, the functioning lunatic is sitting amongst the ordinary public reading a book; not just any book but John Rowan's 1989 work Subpersonalities: The People Inside Us. He is briefly disturbed from his study by an announcement over the airport tannoy system.*
We are sorry to announce a further delay to the 17:50 flight to
*Upon hearing the take-off time of his flight, Barbosa turns his attention back to his work without listening to how much longer he is to be delayed. Despite his seeming lack of worry about having to sit amongst the masses for even longer, there is a brief hint of sneering anger. However, this quickly melts away as he settles into the next chapter of his book.
This does not last long though as a young boy approaches the occupied WZCW superstar with his mother in tow and an autograph book and pen in his other hand. Barbosa either fails to notice this or decides to ignore it.*
Little Jimmy: Mr Barbar, you are my favourite wrestler in the world. You are just so funny!
*Barbosa continues to ignore his biggest fan. This does not perturb the young boy, who persists.*
Little Jimmy: Can I have your autograph, please, Mr Barbar, please?
*Barbosa looks up from his reading and stares at his botherer. However, instead of being intimidated by the intensity in his eyes, the boy just shoots the most gormless of smiles back at him. This draws a sigh from Barbosa and, knowing that he is not going to get through such innocent idiocy, he snatches the pen and autograph book and signs his John Hancock. The boy is elated.*
Little Jimmy: Look, mummy! Look! He signed it! He signed it!
*Smiling back at her elated offspring, his mother goes to thank Barbosa but before she can, her son turns back to the reading superstar .*
Little Jimmy: Mr Barbar, why are you friends with Ty Burna? I hate him. He is scary.
*Barbosa ignores the question, hoping that the boy or his mother will take the hint of his silence. They do not.*
Little Jimmy: But he has put you in a match with that silly curtsey man. How are you going to deal with him at Lethal Lottery?
*Realising the futility of ignoring the boy but without looking up from his book, Barbosa gives a straightforward answer.*
Barbosa: Easily.
Little Jimmy: That means you will have the big gold belt back again! That is why you are friends with Ty!
*Barbosa answers only with a feint nod whilst putting down John Rowans work and picking up another - Suppressing the Mind: Anesthetic Modulation of Memory and Consciousness by Hudetz and Pearce (2010) and flicking through to the page he had bookmarked.*
Little Jimmy: What about Toyota? Why has he decided to help Ty?
*The mention of Toyota sees Barbosa look up from his book but instead of looking at the boy, he stares off into the distance, before his body is wracked with an all too familiar coughing fit.*
*cough* Fat bastard. *cough*
*The boy's mother is shocked at such language and looks to take her child away but the inquisitive youngster continues his barrage of questions.*
Little Jimmy: And what about Blade? You have to team with him next week.
Barbosa: He is of no concern. Blade knows his place in WZCW - squabbling over a mid-card title with his little Daughters of Destiny fanclub.
Little Jimmy: Oh. Well, could you please not hurt Gordito? I like him too and he is almost as funny as you.
Barbosa: Gordito is well aware what is in store for him should he get in our way. I am sure you have lost count of how many times I have thorough trounced him in the ring, although that does not mean much seeing as how you probably cannot count at all.
Little Jimmy: And who is Duck Megaman? I have never seen him before.
*Barbosa merely shrugs at the mention of his third opponent, clearly in a similar state of unknowing regarding the recently returned New Age Prophet.*
*cough* *cough* *cough*
He is a scruffy-looking fool who is misguided enough to think that enlightenment is achieved through fun and enjoyment rather than through pain, suffering and sacrifice. God knows what he has been up to in his time away from WZCW.
*cough* *cough* *cough*
*The coughing fit gets worse as Barbosa, already perplexed as to where his knowledge of Drake Callihan suddenly appeared from, doubles over in pain. The youngster, worried about his favourite superstar, reaches out and pats Barbosa on the back. This proves to be far from a good idea *
__________________________________________________
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*The poker room is seen. Even with the Catatonic lying in the corner, it seems to be the picture of silent serenity. However, there is some disturbed ground below the table *
__________________________________________________
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*Barbosa erupts, screaming in his biggest fan's face.*
Piss off, you grotty, little wanker!
*For a few seconds, the young boy just stares back at his suddenly abrasive idol but gradually his bottom lip starts to quiver, glistening tears start to wet his cheeks and he begins wailing at the top of his voice.*
You will shut your mouth right now or that's what you will get!
*At that pronouncement, Barbosa raises his fist to the weeping wee man, who responds by cowering away and hiding behind his mother's legs. Barbosa sits back in his chair and lifts his book again. Needless to say, the mother is far from amused.*
Mother: Oh, you monster, how can you treat your fans like that?
*Barbosa looks up at the irate mother with confusion, like he has no idea what she is talking about.*
Barbosa: Like what?
Mother: There was no need for you to threaten him!
Barbosa: Threaten him? I did no such thing. I signed his autograph and humoured his stupid questions. What more do you want from me? To give him a hug and kiss his booboos all better? That's your job.
*Stunned by Barbosa's actions and his flat out denial of what he said, the mother gathers up her son and walks away but not without one last parting shot.*
Mother: You you are crazy.
Barbosa: Not anymore.
*However, despite this calm and collected demeanour returning, Barbosa seems unaware that he is holding his book upside down.*
*cough*
There are no pictures in this book!
We are sorry to announce a further delay to the 17:50 flight to
*Upon hearing the take-off time of his flight, Barbosa turns his attention back to his work without listening to how much longer he is to be delayed. Despite his seeming lack of worry about having to sit amongst the masses for even longer, there is a brief hint of sneering anger. However, this quickly melts away as he settles into the next chapter of his book.
This does not last long though as a young boy approaches the occupied WZCW superstar with his mother in tow and an autograph book and pen in his other hand. Barbosa either fails to notice this or decides to ignore it.*
Little Jimmy: Mr Barbar, you are my favourite wrestler in the world. You are just so funny!
*Barbosa continues to ignore his biggest fan. This does not perturb the young boy, who persists.*
Little Jimmy: Can I have your autograph, please, Mr Barbar, please?
*Barbosa looks up from his reading and stares at his botherer. However, instead of being intimidated by the intensity in his eyes, the boy just shoots the most gormless of smiles back at him. This draws a sigh from Barbosa and, knowing that he is not going to get through such innocent idiocy, he snatches the pen and autograph book and signs his John Hancock. The boy is elated.*
Little Jimmy: Look, mummy! Look! He signed it! He signed it!
*Smiling back at her elated offspring, his mother goes to thank Barbosa but before she can, her son turns back to the reading superstar .*
Little Jimmy: Mr Barbar, why are you friends with Ty Burna? I hate him. He is scary.
*Barbosa ignores the question, hoping that the boy or his mother will take the hint of his silence. They do not.*
Little Jimmy: But he has put you in a match with that silly curtsey man. How are you going to deal with him at Lethal Lottery?
*Realising the futility of ignoring the boy but without looking up from his book, Barbosa gives a straightforward answer.*
Barbosa: Easily.
Little Jimmy: That means you will have the big gold belt back again! That is why you are friends with Ty!
*Barbosa answers only with a feint nod whilst putting down John Rowans work and picking up another - Suppressing the Mind: Anesthetic Modulation of Memory and Consciousness by Hudetz and Pearce (2010) and flicking through to the page he had bookmarked.*
Little Jimmy: What about Toyota? Why has he decided to help Ty?
*The mention of Toyota sees Barbosa look up from his book but instead of looking at the boy, he stares off into the distance, before his body is wracked with an all too familiar coughing fit.*
*cough* Fat bastard. *cough*
*The boy's mother is shocked at such language and looks to take her child away but the inquisitive youngster continues his barrage of questions.*
Little Jimmy: And what about Blade? You have to team with him next week.
Barbosa: He is of no concern. Blade knows his place in WZCW - squabbling over a mid-card title with his little Daughters of Destiny fanclub.
Little Jimmy: Oh. Well, could you please not hurt Gordito? I like him too and he is almost as funny as you.
Barbosa: Gordito is well aware what is in store for him should he get in our way. I am sure you have lost count of how many times I have thorough trounced him in the ring, although that does not mean much seeing as how you probably cannot count at all.
Little Jimmy: And who is Duck Megaman? I have never seen him before.
*Barbosa merely shrugs at the mention of his third opponent, clearly in a similar state of unknowing regarding the recently returned New Age Prophet.*
*cough* *cough* *cough*
He is a scruffy-looking fool who is misguided enough to think that enlightenment is achieved through fun and enjoyment rather than through pain, suffering and sacrifice. God knows what he has been up to in his time away from WZCW.
*cough* *cough* *cough*
*The coughing fit gets worse as Barbosa, already perplexed as to where his knowledge of Drake Callihan suddenly appeared from, doubles over in pain. The youngster, worried about his favourite superstar, reaches out and pats Barbosa on the back. This proves to be far from a good idea *
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*The poker room is seen. Even with the Catatonic lying in the corner, it seems to be the picture of silent serenity. However, there is some disturbed ground below the table *
__________________________________________________
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
*Barbosa erupts, screaming in his biggest fan's face.*
Piss off, you grotty, little wanker!
*For a few seconds, the young boy just stares back at his suddenly abrasive idol but gradually his bottom lip starts to quiver, glistening tears start to wet his cheeks and he begins wailing at the top of his voice.*
You will shut your mouth right now or that's what you will get!
*At that pronouncement, Barbosa raises his fist to the weeping wee man, who responds by cowering away and hiding behind his mother's legs. Barbosa sits back in his chair and lifts his book again. Needless to say, the mother is far from amused.*
Mother: Oh, you monster, how can you treat your fans like that?
*Barbosa looks up at the irate mother with confusion, like he has no idea what she is talking about.*
Barbosa: Like what?
Mother: There was no need for you to threaten him!
Barbosa: Threaten him? I did no such thing. I signed his autograph and humoured his stupid questions. What more do you want from me? To give him a hug and kiss his booboos all better? That's your job.
*Stunned by Barbosa's actions and his flat out denial of what he said, the mother gathers up her son and walks away but not without one last parting shot.*
Mother: You you are crazy.
Barbosa: Not anymore.
*However, despite this calm and collected demeanour returning, Barbosa seems unaware that he is holding his book upside down.*
*cough*
There are no pictures in this book!
Leon Kensworth takes a deep breath as he stands outside Drake's hotel room in this week's host city to Meltdown. He fiddles with his recorder for a moment, realizing he's avoiding knocking.
"Really, how did I get Drake twice in a row? I think Becky cheated when we drew straws..."
He adjusts his tie and checks the buttons on his jacket.
"And Stacey, she's never around. I don't think Klamor's ever done this. It's just not fair, I tell you."
He sighs deeply and summons his courage.
"Might as well get it over..."
He raises his hand to knock, but just as he's about to do so, a great clamor goes up in the room. Leon hears Drake shouting and an unknown voice yelling in what sounds like an Asian dialect.
"What the -"
The door flies open and Drake Callahan stands in the doorway, wide eyed and fearful. A bottle of beer is in his hand, half empty. It appears most of it has ended up on him, rather than in his mouth.
"Leon! Help! My sensei is trying to kill me!"
"Your what?!"
Drake pulls Leon inside without explanation as a shoe comes flying at Drake's head. He dodges with a dexterity that Leon could never have expected from a man so frequently drunk. As he contemplates that, the shoe strikes him square in the forehead.
"Ow! Drake, what -"
"Quick! Take cover!"
Drake dives behind a small counter that separates a kitchenette from the main room. Leon looks into the room and sees a small, middle aged Asian man looking furious as he gathers things from the room to throw at them.
"Leon! Hurry!"
Leon, dumbfounded, glances at Drake. As he does so, another shoe comes flying and catches him in the side of the head.
"What?! Are you kidding me?!"
"LEON!"
Leon dashes for the counter as well and rubs his head. Assorted objects continue to fly over the counter at them as the man shouts.
"Drake, just what is happening here?"
"It's a lesson! I think so, anyway. He never really explained himself, he just started throwing things and yelling."
"A lesson in what?! Who is that?"
"My sensei! I think this is a lesson in dodging things."
"Who...what...sensei?"
Drake nods furiously.
"I got the idea from Phoenix. He has a wise Asian master to teach him the ways of of the East. Why shouldn't I? Oh, look out, Leon."
An ashtray sails over the counter and catches Leon on the top of the head. He clutches his head in pain.
"Seriously?! That drew blood! Where did you find this guy?"
"I did what any reasonable person would do! I went down to Little Korea, and, y'know, found him."
"Found him?! How?"
"I found him on the street and invited him to my home."
"Did he want to come?"
"I may have invited him...persuasively."
"How persuasively?!"
Drake gives his most innocent sheepish grin.
"Uh, so maybe there was dragging involved...and clubbing..."
"YOU KIDNAPPED A MAN!"
"I was confident he was a wise master of the Eastern arts! Look out there, Leon."
The hotel Bible is flying through the air. Leon turns to gape at it and it catches him square in the face. He flails and collapses alongside the counter, and groans deeply.
"I didn't sign up for this...what made you so sure he was an Eastern master?"
"Well, look at him! He's, y'know, old, and Asian, and, uh, he's pretty good at throwing things..."
Leon looks at Drake incredulously.
"You...you grabbed a man off the street, kidnapped him, convinced he was an Eastern master...because he was old and Asian?"
Drake's sheepish grin gets even wider, if at all possible.
"Well, er, it doesn't sound so reasonable when you put it like that."
"Of course it doesn't, because it is the most stupid, irresponsible, and absolutely batshit crazy thing that I've ever heard of!"
Drake gives a weak grin and a shrug of the shoulders.
"So you, uh, you think he's probably not a sensei?"
"I think he's a furious man who's fighting off his kidnapper."
"Well, um, I guess, in the case, he can go."
"How generous of you!"
Drake beams.
"Oh, for..."
Leon waves a hand and gets the television remote hurled at it for his troubles. He shakes it off and keeps waving.
"Sir! Sir! I am so sorry. This has been a horrible misunderstanding. Please, you can leave!"
The man pauses for a moment and yells back in his language. He pauses.
"You...crazy, drunk oaf take me! Evil, evil man!"
"He is, really, an awful, awful person! I agree!"
"Hey!"
"Why he want me?"
"He's a nut! Crazy in the coconut!"
The man snorts.
"Lock him up!"
"With gusto!"
"Hey..."
"Please, sir, you can leave, and we'll forget this ever happened."
The man glares silently for a moment.
"You crazy white men. I go now!"
The man stalks away, staring daggers at Drake and Leon on his way out. When he shuts the door, Leon heaves a sigh of relief and clutches his head.
"Drake, you are getting out of control. You are definitely going to be thrown in prison shortly."
Drake picks himself off and dusts himself off.
"Do you think so? Well, this calls for a drink."
"Is there anything in your life that doesn't call for a drink?"
Drake pauses and thinks.
"Hmm...nothing that I can think of."
"Lovely."
Drake grabs a beer from the fridge as Leon surveys the disaster zone that is Drake's hotel room. Drake drinks deeply and heaves a contended sigh.
"That's the good stuff. Wow, this place is a mess."
"You don't say."
"No, I just did."
"It's...it's just an expression, Drake."
"Well, it was wrong."
"It...you know what, never mind, you're right."
Drake nods sagely as he takes a drink.
"Words are tricky, Leon, it's okay. Sometimes I get mixed up on how to spell the long ones. Like "grandmother". I mean, that's a really hard one."
Leon runs a hand through his hair.
"Look...can we...can we just get some material for the website? I'll take it down on the recorder."
"Oh, sure, sure. Actually, I had another encounter down in Little Korea I wanted to tell you about."
"Oh, really? What was this? Attempted murder? Rape? Drug trafficking? Oh, no, wait, you already did that one."
"No, no, none of that. I ran into somebody..."
----
Drake enters a small restaurant in Little Korea. He squints his eyes and looks around as a waitress approaches him.
"Hello, sir..."
"Herro!"
The waitress looks aghast.
"I am American superstar number one! I would like table! Sank you!"
The waitress is still dumbfounded and Drake looks around, still squinting. Almost everyone in the restaurant is staring, now.
"Um..."
Drake cocks his head, confused. Suddenly, a voice rings out.
"Whoa, there, sorry everybody, my friend here has had a few too many..."
Gordito emerges from a shadowy corner and grabs Drake by the shoulder. He whispers in his hear.
"Stop acting like that, you're going to get stabbed."
Drake's eyes widen.
"Oh. Sowwy - er, I mean, sorry, everypony..."
Gordito raises an eyebrow.
"What?"
"Everywho?"
"Body! I said body. You all heard it."
"Never...look, just come join me at the bar."
Drake follows, humming along, as the waitress still stands with her mouth open and the crowd returning to their own meals.
Drake takes a seat at the bar alongside Gordito.
"So, uh, who are you?"
"What? You don't know who I am?"
"Nope! Come to think of it, how do you know who I am?"
"I -"
Drake's eyes narrow.
"Wait a minute...are you a ninja?"
"What? No."
"How do I know! You appear from the shadows, you know who I am...very suspicious!"
"Do I look like a ninja?"
"Ninjas are masters of disguise!"
"Look..."
"No, sir, you're not fooling me, I'm onto you. Ninja!"
"Look, uh, Drake, I can't be a ninja, okay? I...okay, so what if I am a ninja?"
"Aha! I knew it! You're a ninja, and....you've been sent here..."
He gasps dramatically.
"To kill me!"
Drake rises to run but Gordito grabs him.
"No! Drake, if I was a ninja sent to kill you, wouldn't...wouldn't I...wouldn't I have just kung-fu'd you to death before?"
Drake raises a hand.
"That's...that's...hm."
He sits back down.
"Okay, so you're probably not a ninja. But it's still pretty suspicious, you knowing my name and all."
"For Christ's sake, Drake, we work together."
"Oh, you're with WZCW? What do you do? Set up the ring, clean the floors?"
"I...I wrestle, Drake."
"Oh, right, you're one of the new kids. Mick, was it?"
"I...no, Drake, I'm Gordito."
"Who now?"
"Gordito? Challenged for the world heavyweight championship? Main eventer?"
"Nope, never heard of you."
"We're tag teaming this week..."
"Oh. You know, the last time I was in a tag team, it went pretty poorly. My partner, you know, he was...special."
"Can you focus, please?"
"On what?"
"Us! Me! The conversation!"
"Oh, sure thing, uh, Chalupa, was it?"
"Gordito."
"Right, Gordito. So, you say we're on a team now?"
"Yes. With Steven Kurtesy. You know him, right?"
"Uh...is he...the valet?"
"Drake, he's the World Heavyweight Champion."
Drake's face suddenly turns very serious.
"Oh. I see."
"You alright?"
"The World Heavyweight Championship..."
Gordito grins and slaps Drake on the shoulder.
"We all want it, don't we? Hey, let me buy you a drink."
Drake nods, still contemplative. Gordito leaves it until the drinks come.
"So, you want to be world champion, huh?"
Drake nods.
"Why?"
Drake shrugs.
"Compelling."
Drake takes a deep drink.
"It's hard to explain. It...before everything went south for me, I almost took it for granted that I would have it eventually. It didn't mean anything to me. But I see, now, how stupid I was. A few more months, it could have been in my hands, and I wouldn't have cared. But now...now it means everything."
Gordito nods.
"I hear ya, brother. I'll drink to that."
They clink bottles and drink.
"So what was up with that routine?"
"I was trying to blend in."
"By squinting your eyes and talking with a horrendous mockery of an Asian accent?"
Drake grins.
"These things, they always sound better in my head than when people say them out loud."
Gordito laughs and shakes his head.
"So what brings you here?"
Drake almost rises up out of his seat as his eyes widen.
"Whoa, hey, what's the rush man?"
Drake sits back down.
"Sorry, it's just, you reminded me, I'm here looking for a certain someone."
Gordito grins.
"A little lady, perhaps? Gonna get a happy ending?"
Drake blinks.
"A what, now?"
"Never mind. Who are you looking for?"
"A wise master of the Eastern ways to instruct me in martial arts."
"No, seriously."
"I am serious! It's very important to the...the, um...well, it's important. I have to get looking for him, now. Thanks for the drink."
Gordito nods and waves Drake off as he goes searching for his sensei. He lets out a long laugh.
"That man is absolutely crazy."
----
"...And that's the story of how I went to the North Pole!"
Leon has zoned out a little bit.
"What, now?"
"Maybe if you're lucky, I'll tell you how I met Gordito one day."
"...Okay."
They sit quietly for a moment.
"So, uh, how about some insight into your match?"
"Sure! Well, Gordito, he's a cool dude. I think I can trust him to have my back. Plus, he loves to drink too, which is like, come on, my kind of guy."
Leon snorts.
"What about Kurtesy?"
Drake's eyes take on a wistful look.
"It's hard to team up with a man you envy so much, Leon."
"Does that mean he should be worried?"
Drake sips on his beer.
"Maybe."
Leon gives Drake a raised eyebrow, but carries on.
"Your opponents? Blade, Barbosa?"
Drake shrugs.
"I don't know much and I don't need to, Leon. I've never seen Barbosa and I barely remember Blade. I said it last week, I'll say it again. I just go out there, try to beat them up until they stop standing, and hope for the best."
Leon nods.
"And...Ty?"
Drake, unexpectedly, grins.
"I couldn't be happier about meeting him."
"Really? You and Ty had quite the feud back in the day."
"Yes, I know. But this is perfect. Wrestling Ty, winning the Eurasian title, was the last big thing I had going for me before it all went downhill. I know I can get that magic back if I meet him in the ring again. And, more importantly, take it with me to the Lethal Lottery."
"I think you're underestimating him. He's changed a lot since you last met. He's darker, stronger. He has the Apostles of Chaos. And he's running the show now."
"Well, you know what they say, Leon...the bigger they are..."
"The harder they fall."
"What? No, the larger their shoe size."
"How is that relevant?"
"How is what relevant?"
"Ty's shoes."
"Who's talking about Ty's shoes?"
"You are!"
"Leon, are you okay?"
"I...you...you know what, okay, we're done here."
Drake beams.
"Great! I think today was very productive, Leon."
Leon stares narrowly at Drake.
"Yes...very productive."
"Will I see you for the pay-per-view?"
Leon lets out a hysterical laugh before he calms himself.
"Um, no, no, Drake, I don't think so. Not next time."
Drake pouts.
"Shoot. Sorry, Leon, I'm sure you must be super busy if you're not interviewing me."
"Yes...very, very busy. I'll make it, though."
Leon gathers his things and makes for the door.
"Right, bye then, Drake."
He looks over his shoulder and finds Drake absorbed in cartoons already. Leon shakes his head and heads out the door. As he closes it, he hears the theme song to My Little Pony playing him out.
In the hallway, he collapses, clutches his head, and lets out a terrible groan.
"Never...again..."
"Really, how did I get Drake twice in a row? I think Becky cheated when we drew straws..."
He adjusts his tie and checks the buttons on his jacket.
"And Stacey, she's never around. I don't think Klamor's ever done this. It's just not fair, I tell you."
He sighs deeply and summons his courage.
"Might as well get it over..."
He raises his hand to knock, but just as he's about to do so, a great clamor goes up in the room. Leon hears Drake shouting and an unknown voice yelling in what sounds like an Asian dialect.
"What the -"
The door flies open and Drake Callahan stands in the doorway, wide eyed and fearful. A bottle of beer is in his hand, half empty. It appears most of it has ended up on him, rather than in his mouth.
"Leon! Help! My sensei is trying to kill me!"
"Your what?!"
Drake pulls Leon inside without explanation as a shoe comes flying at Drake's head. He dodges with a dexterity that Leon could never have expected from a man so frequently drunk. As he contemplates that, the shoe strikes him square in the forehead.
"Ow! Drake, what -"
"Quick! Take cover!"
Drake dives behind a small counter that separates a kitchenette from the main room. Leon looks into the room and sees a small, middle aged Asian man looking furious as he gathers things from the room to throw at them.
"Leon! Hurry!"
Leon, dumbfounded, glances at Drake. As he does so, another shoe comes flying and catches him in the side of the head.
"What?! Are you kidding me?!"
"LEON!"
Leon dashes for the counter as well and rubs his head. Assorted objects continue to fly over the counter at them as the man shouts.
"Drake, just what is happening here?"
"It's a lesson! I think so, anyway. He never really explained himself, he just started throwing things and yelling."
"A lesson in what?! Who is that?"
"My sensei! I think this is a lesson in dodging things."
"Who...what...sensei?"
Drake nods furiously.
"I got the idea from Phoenix. He has a wise Asian master to teach him the ways of of the East. Why shouldn't I? Oh, look out, Leon."
An ashtray sails over the counter and catches Leon on the top of the head. He clutches his head in pain.
"Seriously?! That drew blood! Where did you find this guy?"
"I did what any reasonable person would do! I went down to Little Korea, and, y'know, found him."
"Found him?! How?"
"I found him on the street and invited him to my home."
"Did he want to come?"
"I may have invited him...persuasively."
"How persuasively?!"
Drake gives his most innocent sheepish grin.
"Uh, so maybe there was dragging involved...and clubbing..."
"YOU KIDNAPPED A MAN!"
"I was confident he was a wise master of the Eastern arts! Look out there, Leon."
The hotel Bible is flying through the air. Leon turns to gape at it and it catches him square in the face. He flails and collapses alongside the counter, and groans deeply.
"I didn't sign up for this...what made you so sure he was an Eastern master?"
"Well, look at him! He's, y'know, old, and Asian, and, uh, he's pretty good at throwing things..."
Leon looks at Drake incredulously.
"You...you grabbed a man off the street, kidnapped him, convinced he was an Eastern master...because he was old and Asian?"
Drake's sheepish grin gets even wider, if at all possible.
"Well, er, it doesn't sound so reasonable when you put it like that."
"Of course it doesn't, because it is the most stupid, irresponsible, and absolutely batshit crazy thing that I've ever heard of!"
Drake gives a weak grin and a shrug of the shoulders.
"So you, uh, you think he's probably not a sensei?"
"I think he's a furious man who's fighting off his kidnapper."
"Well, um, I guess, in the case, he can go."
"How generous of you!"
Drake beams.
"Oh, for..."
Leon waves a hand and gets the television remote hurled at it for his troubles. He shakes it off and keeps waving.
"Sir! Sir! I am so sorry. This has been a horrible misunderstanding. Please, you can leave!"
The man pauses for a moment and yells back in his language. He pauses.
"You...crazy, drunk oaf take me! Evil, evil man!"
"He is, really, an awful, awful person! I agree!"
"Hey!"
"Why he want me?"
"He's a nut! Crazy in the coconut!"
The man snorts.
"Lock him up!"
"With gusto!"
"Hey..."
"Please, sir, you can leave, and we'll forget this ever happened."
The man glares silently for a moment.
"You crazy white men. I go now!"
The man stalks away, staring daggers at Drake and Leon on his way out. When he shuts the door, Leon heaves a sigh of relief and clutches his head.
"Drake, you are getting out of control. You are definitely going to be thrown in prison shortly."
Drake picks himself off and dusts himself off.
"Do you think so? Well, this calls for a drink."
"Is there anything in your life that doesn't call for a drink?"
Drake pauses and thinks.
"Hmm...nothing that I can think of."
"Lovely."
Drake grabs a beer from the fridge as Leon surveys the disaster zone that is Drake's hotel room. Drake drinks deeply and heaves a contended sigh.
"That's the good stuff. Wow, this place is a mess."
"You don't say."
"No, I just did."
"It's...it's just an expression, Drake."
"Well, it was wrong."
"It...you know what, never mind, you're right."
Drake nods sagely as he takes a drink.
"Words are tricky, Leon, it's okay. Sometimes I get mixed up on how to spell the long ones. Like "grandmother". I mean, that's a really hard one."
Leon runs a hand through his hair.
"Look...can we...can we just get some material for the website? I'll take it down on the recorder."
"Oh, sure, sure. Actually, I had another encounter down in Little Korea I wanted to tell you about."
"Oh, really? What was this? Attempted murder? Rape? Drug trafficking? Oh, no, wait, you already did that one."
"No, no, none of that. I ran into somebody..."
----
Drake enters a small restaurant in Little Korea. He squints his eyes and looks around as a waitress approaches him.
"Hello, sir..."
"Herro!"
The waitress looks aghast.
"I am American superstar number one! I would like table! Sank you!"
The waitress is still dumbfounded and Drake looks around, still squinting. Almost everyone in the restaurant is staring, now.
"Um..."
Drake cocks his head, confused. Suddenly, a voice rings out.
"Whoa, there, sorry everybody, my friend here has had a few too many..."
Gordito emerges from a shadowy corner and grabs Drake by the shoulder. He whispers in his hear.
"Stop acting like that, you're going to get stabbed."
Drake's eyes widen.
"Oh. Sowwy - er, I mean, sorry, everypony..."
Gordito raises an eyebrow.
"What?"
"Everywho?"
"Body! I said body. You all heard it."
"Never...look, just come join me at the bar."
Drake follows, humming along, as the waitress still stands with her mouth open and the crowd returning to their own meals.
Drake takes a seat at the bar alongside Gordito.
"So, uh, who are you?"
"What? You don't know who I am?"
"Nope! Come to think of it, how do you know who I am?"
"I -"
Drake's eyes narrow.
"Wait a minute...are you a ninja?"
"What? No."
"How do I know! You appear from the shadows, you know who I am...very suspicious!"
"Do I look like a ninja?"
"Ninjas are masters of disguise!"
"Look..."
"No, sir, you're not fooling me, I'm onto you. Ninja!"
"Look, uh, Drake, I can't be a ninja, okay? I...okay, so what if I am a ninja?"
"Aha! I knew it! You're a ninja, and....you've been sent here..."
He gasps dramatically.
"To kill me!"
Drake rises to run but Gordito grabs him.
"No! Drake, if I was a ninja sent to kill you, wouldn't...wouldn't I...wouldn't I have just kung-fu'd you to death before?"
Drake raises a hand.
"That's...that's...hm."
He sits back down.
"Okay, so you're probably not a ninja. But it's still pretty suspicious, you knowing my name and all."
"For Christ's sake, Drake, we work together."
"Oh, you're with WZCW? What do you do? Set up the ring, clean the floors?"
"I...I wrestle, Drake."
"Oh, right, you're one of the new kids. Mick, was it?"
"I...no, Drake, I'm Gordito."
"Who now?"
"Gordito? Challenged for the world heavyweight championship? Main eventer?"
"Nope, never heard of you."
"We're tag teaming this week..."
"Oh. You know, the last time I was in a tag team, it went pretty poorly. My partner, you know, he was...special."
"Can you focus, please?"
"On what?"
"Us! Me! The conversation!"
"Oh, sure thing, uh, Chalupa, was it?"
"Gordito."
"Right, Gordito. So, you say we're on a team now?"
"Yes. With Steven Kurtesy. You know him, right?"
"Uh...is he...the valet?"
"Drake, he's the World Heavyweight Champion."
Drake's face suddenly turns very serious.
"Oh. I see."
"You alright?"
"The World Heavyweight Championship..."
Gordito grins and slaps Drake on the shoulder.
"We all want it, don't we? Hey, let me buy you a drink."
Drake nods, still contemplative. Gordito leaves it until the drinks come.
"So, you want to be world champion, huh?"
Drake nods.
"Why?"
Drake shrugs.
"Compelling."
Drake takes a deep drink.
"It's hard to explain. It...before everything went south for me, I almost took it for granted that I would have it eventually. It didn't mean anything to me. But I see, now, how stupid I was. A few more months, it could have been in my hands, and I wouldn't have cared. But now...now it means everything."
Gordito nods.
"I hear ya, brother. I'll drink to that."
They clink bottles and drink.
"So what was up with that routine?"
"I was trying to blend in."
"By squinting your eyes and talking with a horrendous mockery of an Asian accent?"
Drake grins.
"These things, they always sound better in my head than when people say them out loud."
Gordito laughs and shakes his head.
"So what brings you here?"
Drake almost rises up out of his seat as his eyes widen.
"Whoa, hey, what's the rush man?"
Drake sits back down.
"Sorry, it's just, you reminded me, I'm here looking for a certain someone."
Gordito grins.
"A little lady, perhaps? Gonna get a happy ending?"
Drake blinks.
"A what, now?"
"Never mind. Who are you looking for?"
"A wise master of the Eastern ways to instruct me in martial arts."
"No, seriously."
"I am serious! It's very important to the...the, um...well, it's important. I have to get looking for him, now. Thanks for the drink."
Gordito nods and waves Drake off as he goes searching for his sensei. He lets out a long laugh.
"That man is absolutely crazy."
----
"...And that's the story of how I went to the North Pole!"
Leon has zoned out a little bit.
"What, now?"
"Maybe if you're lucky, I'll tell you how I met Gordito one day."
"...Okay."
They sit quietly for a moment.
"So, uh, how about some insight into your match?"
"Sure! Well, Gordito, he's a cool dude. I think I can trust him to have my back. Plus, he loves to drink too, which is like, come on, my kind of guy."
Leon snorts.
"What about Kurtesy?"
Drake's eyes take on a wistful look.
"It's hard to team up with a man you envy so much, Leon."
"Does that mean he should be worried?"
Drake sips on his beer.
"Maybe."
Leon gives Drake a raised eyebrow, but carries on.
"Your opponents? Blade, Barbosa?"
Drake shrugs.
"I don't know much and I don't need to, Leon. I've never seen Barbosa and I barely remember Blade. I said it last week, I'll say it again. I just go out there, try to beat them up until they stop standing, and hope for the best."
Leon nods.
"And...Ty?"
Drake, unexpectedly, grins.
"I couldn't be happier about meeting him."
"Really? You and Ty had quite the feud back in the day."
"Yes, I know. But this is perfect. Wrestling Ty, winning the Eurasian title, was the last big thing I had going for me before it all went downhill. I know I can get that magic back if I meet him in the ring again. And, more importantly, take it with me to the Lethal Lottery."
"I think you're underestimating him. He's changed a lot since you last met. He's darker, stronger. He has the Apostles of Chaos. And he's running the show now."
"Well, you know what they say, Leon...the bigger they are..."
"The harder they fall."
"What? No, the larger their shoe size."
"How is that relevant?"
"How is what relevant?"
"Ty's shoes."
"Who's talking about Ty's shoes?"
"You are!"
"Leon, are you okay?"
"I...you...you know what, okay, we're done here."
Drake beams.
"Great! I think today was very productive, Leon."
Leon stares narrowly at Drake.
"Yes...very productive."
"Will I see you for the pay-per-view?"
Leon lets out a hysterical laugh before he calms himself.
"Um, no, no, Drake, I don't think so. Not next time."
Drake pouts.
"Shoot. Sorry, Leon, I'm sure you must be super busy if you're not interviewing me."
"Yes...very, very busy. I'll make it, though."
Leon gathers his things and makes for the door.
"Right, bye then, Drake."
He looks over his shoulder and finds Drake absorbed in cartoons already. Leon shakes his head and heads out the door. As he closes it, he hears the theme song to My Little Pony playing him out.
In the hallway, he collapses, clutches his head, and lets out a terrible groan.
"Never...again..."
DirtyJosé
Best angle of all: retirement
We open to Gordito's new studio in Downtown Los Angeles. The walls are still bare, the floor is mostly empty, but in this back room lamps are set up around the center of the room. Gordito is holding some tools in his hand, chipping away at a massive block of stone. His work is still in its early stages; it's impossible to figure out what he's done so far. Headphones in his ears are playing him recent WZCW.com podcasts; various interviews and commentary about the state of things.
His face is a picture of conflict; he's happier than he's been in a long while, totally at peace with his place in the scheme of things and his path going forward. At the same time, he's trying to understand all of the things that are going on around him. Just because they haven't affected him personally yet does not mean that he will be spared. He begins to talk to himself as he works.
Gordito: Chaos...a concept I'm quite familiar and comfortable with. The antithesis of Order...a lack of structure, a lack of organization...
His hands begin to work with more determination...with more passion.
Gordito: I'm totally down with that. Right up my alley. But The Apostles...
He steps back to observe his work for a moment begin getting back to work.
Gordito: That party ain't about Chaos. Ty ain't about Chaos. Sure, he looks the part...all that Goth Topic attire...the kooky darkness and make up and stuff. But their gig's about Order...not the usual order. Not the order we're used to. But still Order. His Order. One nation under Burna.
His eyes squint as he focuses on some fine work with his tools.
Gordito: It could have easily been me by his side. It could be me who stooges off to him...hoping that he'd throw me enough table scraps to call myself a champion. That's not my style though. I like to work for what I get. I like to sweat and ache and, if needed, bleed for what I want. It just makes it all the sweeter when I get there.
I thought Wasabi was different. I thought I knew the guy well enough to know he'd never go that way. But I guess he's always had his dances with the dark side in the past. Still...it hurts to see him there. Ty always told me never to trust too much into people...I just didn't see it coming. I mean, someone like Barbosa being in his pocket is not surprising. Barbosa's able to justify anything if it means being relevant. After being a touch-and-go Champ courtesy of Titus, it's hardly shocking to see him playing groupie.
He stops to wipe the sweat off his brow.
Gordito: The others are almost not worth my time. I'm sure they'll try and make themselves noticed by me...everyone wants a piece o' The Dirty One. But really, what are they? Weaklings...beings with no will of their own, following only because Ty has willpower enough for all of them. They march under a banner of "Chaos", but it is a lie. Ty is not Chaos. His actions have purpose. Even if that purpose is a cause only he knows for sure, it's still a plan...it's still organized...it's still merely another form of "Order"...
He takes off the headphones and puts them into his pocket. He reaches to his feet for a half empty bottle of water and takes a drink. Afterwards, he places it back at his feet and continues, both talking and working.
Gordito: More than anything...more than the betrayal of Wasabi, of the cowardice and spinelessness of guys like K.O. and Alhawhatever, or of the passionless ambition of Barbosa...the audacity of Ty to fly the flag Chaos is what offends me. Chaos is not just being big and evil. Chaos is not negative energy for the sake of negativity. Chaos is a frenzy. Chaos is "every man for himself". Chaos is Anarchy.
He stops working again.
So now I suppose I have a few questions...a few things to sort out before Meltdown.
He puts down his tools. He seems finished for the moment. He pulls a stool from the corner of the room and lights up a cigarette as he looks over his work.
Gordito: First one...where does Kurtesy fit into all of this? Despite the reaffirmation of the truth in the lessons Ty taught me which came from the defection of Wasabi, I can't see any reason for Kurtesy to be in Ty's pocket right now. No way Burna could manage keeping Barbosa contained from trying to get that belt back. And Kurtesy's smart enough to know not to put himself in a situation like that. So long as he holds that title, he knows he's a hunted man. I suppose that's always true, but I can't think of many other times where it's been more perilous than now to be the top dog.
Then Blade. I must admit that the old man got the better of me. He's been on a roll, and he doesn't show many signs of slowing down. He's never been one to walk the straight and narrow, but he's also not the type to follow someone else's lead. He probably better represents Chaos than anyone else on that team. What's his angle in all of this? What would it take for Ty to view him as threat, or even an annoyance? I wonder...what is there to exploit between them?
Finally, Callahan. Likely the biggest wild card in all of this, outside of myself. At least with him, I can take destiny into my own hands...
He puts out his cigarette on the ground, turns off the lights as he leaves the room, and heads towards the front door. As he opens the door to leave he turns back towards his work, hidden from view from the front by some hanging tarps. He hits the light switch on the wall.
Gordito: ...I'm just going to have to pay the guy a visit myself and see what I think of him.
His face is a picture of conflict; he's happier than he's been in a long while, totally at peace with his place in the scheme of things and his path going forward. At the same time, he's trying to understand all of the things that are going on around him. Just because they haven't affected him personally yet does not mean that he will be spared. He begins to talk to himself as he works.
Gordito: Chaos...a concept I'm quite familiar and comfortable with. The antithesis of Order...a lack of structure, a lack of organization...
His hands begin to work with more determination...with more passion.
Gordito: I'm totally down with that. Right up my alley. But The Apostles...
He steps back to observe his work for a moment begin getting back to work.
Gordito: That party ain't about Chaos. Ty ain't about Chaos. Sure, he looks the part...all that Goth Topic attire...the kooky darkness and make up and stuff. But their gig's about Order...not the usual order. Not the order we're used to. But still Order. His Order. One nation under Burna.
His eyes squint as he focuses on some fine work with his tools.
Gordito: It could have easily been me by his side. It could be me who stooges off to him...hoping that he'd throw me enough table scraps to call myself a champion. That's not my style though. I like to work for what I get. I like to sweat and ache and, if needed, bleed for what I want. It just makes it all the sweeter when I get there.
I thought Wasabi was different. I thought I knew the guy well enough to know he'd never go that way. But I guess he's always had his dances with the dark side in the past. Still...it hurts to see him there. Ty always told me never to trust too much into people...I just didn't see it coming. I mean, someone like Barbosa being in his pocket is not surprising. Barbosa's able to justify anything if it means being relevant. After being a touch-and-go Champ courtesy of Titus, it's hardly shocking to see him playing groupie.
He stops to wipe the sweat off his brow.
Gordito: The others are almost not worth my time. I'm sure they'll try and make themselves noticed by me...everyone wants a piece o' The Dirty One. But really, what are they? Weaklings...beings with no will of their own, following only because Ty has willpower enough for all of them. They march under a banner of "Chaos", but it is a lie. Ty is not Chaos. His actions have purpose. Even if that purpose is a cause only he knows for sure, it's still a plan...it's still organized...it's still merely another form of "Order"...
He takes off the headphones and puts them into his pocket. He reaches to his feet for a half empty bottle of water and takes a drink. Afterwards, he places it back at his feet and continues, both talking and working.
Gordito: More than anything...more than the betrayal of Wasabi, of the cowardice and spinelessness of guys like K.O. and Alhawhatever, or of the passionless ambition of Barbosa...the audacity of Ty to fly the flag Chaos is what offends me. Chaos is not just being big and evil. Chaos is not negative energy for the sake of negativity. Chaos is a frenzy. Chaos is "every man for himself". Chaos is Anarchy.
He stops working again.
So now I suppose I have a few questions...a few things to sort out before Meltdown.
He puts down his tools. He seems finished for the moment. He pulls a stool from the corner of the room and lights up a cigarette as he looks over his work.
Gordito: First one...where does Kurtesy fit into all of this? Despite the reaffirmation of the truth in the lessons Ty taught me which came from the defection of Wasabi, I can't see any reason for Kurtesy to be in Ty's pocket right now. No way Burna could manage keeping Barbosa contained from trying to get that belt back. And Kurtesy's smart enough to know not to put himself in a situation like that. So long as he holds that title, he knows he's a hunted man. I suppose that's always true, but I can't think of many other times where it's been more perilous than now to be the top dog.
Then Blade. I must admit that the old man got the better of me. He's been on a roll, and he doesn't show many signs of slowing down. He's never been one to walk the straight and narrow, but he's also not the type to follow someone else's lead. He probably better represents Chaos than anyone else on that team. What's his angle in all of this? What would it take for Ty to view him as threat, or even an annoyance? I wonder...what is there to exploit between them?
Finally, Callahan. Likely the biggest wild card in all of this, outside of myself. At least with him, I can take destiny into my own hands...
He puts out his cigarette on the ground, turns off the lights as he leaves the room, and heads towards the front door. As he opens the door to leave he turns back towards his work, hidden from view from the front by some hanging tarps. He hits the light switch on the wall.
Gordito: ...I'm just going to have to pay the guy a visit myself and see what I think of him.
Viola Moonlight
I'm Literally Just Here for WZCW
Steven Kurtesy opens his eyes after a long meditation session, finding himself in a different place than the environment his mind created for him: inside of the Master's temple where high warriors of Zen Ki Bo are also mentally and spiritually awakening from their training. Candlelight provides the only luminescent in the room, making it hard to distinguish between the other individuals. The only person that can be seen is the Master who sits atop the highest point in the room, looking down on his students. From his point of view, he can see ever man and woman in the room... yet he glances at the Professor and points to him, signalling him to stand. A little hesitant at first, Kurtesy emerges through the darkness covering him and stands in the light, placing the World Heavyweight Championship across his shoulder gently. The Master is neither pleased or angry at the belts' presence.
Professor.
Kurtesy bows to one knee.
Yes, Master.
Kurtesy stands back on his feet.
Never before have I seen someone enter our walls and excel the way you have in our training then go out into the world anf fight to become the best...
Steven smiles.
Thank you, Mas...
... but to come back here and carry around an item of worship into our home, let alone in our sacred realm: that shows me that you are not dedicated to becoming a true warrior of mind and soul, abusing our teachings to gain an advantage in a world outside that you care about as if it were your entire life.
Kurtesy's expression has changed from a peaceful state to a more worried and horrified look.
I'm sorry, Master but that is not the truth. Before I even gave my spirit to this place, I was already a dedicated person to becoming one with the mind and soul. Joining this family may be considered an ego trip for myself considering how fast I have advanced in my training but there were so many lessons that I have yet to uncover in my ultimate goal of unlocking the secrets of spirituality that coming here was a necessity... especially with you as my Master, always keeping me on my toes. I will apologise if this World title offends or disrespects you, I should have known better. I...
The Master holds his hand up to signal for Kurtesy to stop talking. He does so and bows down on one knee again as the Master rises from his seated position.
It is not I that you should be worried about offending. If you or anyone else were ever to disrespect me, you would be disrespecting our lifestyle and you would be immediately banished. This is not the case, young Professor... you should be worried about disrespecting yourself.
Kurtesy looks up.
The last time I felt disrespect to myself was when I decided to repent for all the mistakes I've done and become a better man, Master. Holding this championship gives me the opposite. Not only do I feel respect being able to call myself the World champion but I feel the heavy responsibilities that come with keeping this around my waist. For too long, this title has been severely tormented, being passed around the campfire like a pipe at a Native-American smoking ritual. Before then, an evil man filled with darkness clutched this close to his chest, sucking all the life out of this title. By holding this title, I feel I have the responsibility of bringing back the respect and proper ideals of holding this title: fighting over it not to call yourself the champion or to gain gold, but to call themselves a true warrior. I firmly believe that I can attain the status by keeping this belt by my side.
A small smile flickers across the face of the Master.
You are starting to understand our ways Professor and for that, I commend you on your journey as this "World" champion. As long as this possession gives you meaning to continue learning the ways that our brother and sisterhood teaches, then it is not a worthless idol.
Kurtesy stands on his feet as the Master tells him to get back and shows him the exit with his hands. The professor begins to exit but is stopped by the Masters voice.
Just make sure Professor that you do not become one with the title but rather the ideals and the respect that this title, as you said so yourself, will be willing to give you.
Indeed Master.
Kurtesy takes one last bow before exiting the sanctuary with the Master turning to another individual, pointing at them to stand.
-----------------------------------------------------------
The Professor has found his way outside of the Zen Ki Bo training grounds, changed into a casual attire from his training clothes and is about ready to head off before he receives a message on his phone.
Huh... I didn't know there was reception out these parts.
He pulls out his phone and opens the message:
Steven has a confused look on his face.
I didn't know he had a phone... and since when have I had Drake's number?
He ponders for a while before something clicks with him. He goes through his contacts list and hits call for "Gordito". It rings for a moment before he hears a voice from the other line.
Hey Stevie, whatsup?
Not much man... just back from my spiritual camp I've been telling you about. Doing some mental training and what not with the Master. Have you signed up yet?
I had a look through the brochure but that place ain't for me. I'm not into that sort of thing, y'know.
That's cool, thought I'd ask. Hey listen: have you talked to Drake recently?
We did more than talk, brother. Well actually, he did a lot more. Kind of scared quite a few people with... don't worry. Why do you ask anyway?
He gave me a text message and I was wondering if you might have given it to him?
Oh right... yeah, I might have given him your number. I told him it would be best if he talked to you about his problems. If you saw what he was like, you'd be the perfect person to fix him up.
Whilst I don't do that anymore, I'm sure Sandy might be interested. At least I know it came from a good source. Speak of the devil, my ride just pulled up... I'll catch you on Meltdown for our tag match. Train hard, mate.
Will do.
As Kurtesy hangs up the phone, a motorbike pulls up in the carpark and turns off. The person driving gets off the bike and pulls off their helmet, revealing to be Dr. Sandy Deserts. The two smile as they greet each other with hugs before Sandy takes the World title and holds it for herself feeling how heavy it is.
Wow... you're finally the World Heavyweight Champion. How does that make you feel?
Kurtesy smiles.
Part of me is ecstatic that I'm holding the title, yet part of me feels like I have a duty to perform Sandy... I can't waste this opportunity to do good for the title for once.
Sandy hands back the title.
I'm sure you're more than capable of keeping it. How come you didn't throw a massive party like the times you won the tag team titles?
First time was a massive thing. Debut match and I'm a champ... second time was force-fed by Doug Crashin and the group finally gaining success. This time... its the real deal. World champ shouldn't be celebrating, he should be pouring everything he's got into this title and I'm going to do that, starting with that tag team match I've got coming up... speaking of which, do you mind dropping me off at Drake Callahan's place? I need to talk with him.
Sandy nods.
What about Gordito?
I've already spoke with him... I'm going to need more time with Drake though: we are like two different people.
Sandy smiles as she heads back over to the bike, putting her helmet back on. Steven follows and grabs the spare helmet from the bike's hidden compartment, putting it on as Sandy starts the vehicle. Both get on and ride off.
-----------------------------------------------------------
Kurtesy has finally reached the location of Drake Callahan's place, even after getting lost and being chased down by Asian gang members in an epic story worth telling. However, the story skips too far ahead and we have to settle for Kurtesy knocking on the door with a 6 pack in his hands. After a couple of moments, a loud noise can be heard from inside. It sounds like a girl screaming and Kurtesy quickly barges down the door, getting inside to find out what the trouble is. To his surprise, he does not find a girl but instead Drake almost glued to the television as he watches a bright and colourful animated cartoon show. He doesn't seem to notice Kurtesy until he drops down the 6 pack and checks all the rooms for a girl. Drake turns around with a huge smile on his face.
Hey bud... yeah, the World champ is here!
Kurtesy looks at him confused.
Is there a girl in here?
A girl? Where?
In your home?
Really?
Drake begins parting his hair and sniffs his breath, checking if he's good to talk to a woman.
Wait... so you don't know if there is a girl in your home?
Probably... I've had a lot of girls come through the chateau de la Callahan if you know what I'm saying!
So then... who screamed?
Drake looks a bit embarrassed but considering his inebriated state he laughs it off.
Ah... my bad. That was probably me... I've been watching this show and it scared me a little.
Steven looks over to the television Drake is pointing at and sees a logo for My Little Pony come up. Steven looks more unimpressed than Stacey Madison on a bad day.
You serious? That... a kid's show for little girls?
Drake stares at him with malice before remembering his code of love and tolerating, switching to a smile.
I bet if you watched a couple of episodes you'd be hooked.
Nah, not a big fan. I just came around to chat about the match.
Well... looks like you're going to have to watch this show with me if you want to chat about the match.
Reluctantly, Steven sits down with the 6 pack and hands one to Drake. He grabs one and skulls it before grabbing the next one and doing the same.
I'm going to need more beer.
You read my mind brony.
Professor.
Kurtesy bows to one knee.
Yes, Master.
Kurtesy stands back on his feet.
Never before have I seen someone enter our walls and excel the way you have in our training then go out into the world anf fight to become the best...
Steven smiles.
Thank you, Mas...
... but to come back here and carry around an item of worship into our home, let alone in our sacred realm: that shows me that you are not dedicated to becoming a true warrior of mind and soul, abusing our teachings to gain an advantage in a world outside that you care about as if it were your entire life.
Kurtesy's expression has changed from a peaceful state to a more worried and horrified look.
I'm sorry, Master but that is not the truth. Before I even gave my spirit to this place, I was already a dedicated person to becoming one with the mind and soul. Joining this family may be considered an ego trip for myself considering how fast I have advanced in my training but there were so many lessons that I have yet to uncover in my ultimate goal of unlocking the secrets of spirituality that coming here was a necessity... especially with you as my Master, always keeping me on my toes. I will apologise if this World title offends or disrespects you, I should have known better. I...
The Master holds his hand up to signal for Kurtesy to stop talking. He does so and bows down on one knee again as the Master rises from his seated position.
It is not I that you should be worried about offending. If you or anyone else were ever to disrespect me, you would be disrespecting our lifestyle and you would be immediately banished. This is not the case, young Professor... you should be worried about disrespecting yourself.
Kurtesy looks up.
The last time I felt disrespect to myself was when I decided to repent for all the mistakes I've done and become a better man, Master. Holding this championship gives me the opposite. Not only do I feel respect being able to call myself the World champion but I feel the heavy responsibilities that come with keeping this around my waist. For too long, this title has been severely tormented, being passed around the campfire like a pipe at a Native-American smoking ritual. Before then, an evil man filled with darkness clutched this close to his chest, sucking all the life out of this title. By holding this title, I feel I have the responsibility of bringing back the respect and proper ideals of holding this title: fighting over it not to call yourself the champion or to gain gold, but to call themselves a true warrior. I firmly believe that I can attain the status by keeping this belt by my side.
A small smile flickers across the face of the Master.
You are starting to understand our ways Professor and for that, I commend you on your journey as this "World" champion. As long as this possession gives you meaning to continue learning the ways that our brother and sisterhood teaches, then it is not a worthless idol.
Kurtesy stands on his feet as the Master tells him to get back and shows him the exit with his hands. The professor begins to exit but is stopped by the Masters voice.
Just make sure Professor that you do not become one with the title but rather the ideals and the respect that this title, as you said so yourself, will be willing to give you.
Indeed Master.
Kurtesy takes one last bow before exiting the sanctuary with the Master turning to another individual, pointing at them to stand.
-----------------------------------------------------------
The Professor has found his way outside of the Zen Ki Bo training grounds, changed into a casual attire from his training clothes and is about ready to head off before he receives a message on his phone.
Huh... I didn't know there was reception out these parts.
He pulls out his phone and opens the message:
Steven has a confused look on his face.
I didn't know he had a phone... and since when have I had Drake's number?
He ponders for a while before something clicks with him. He goes through his contacts list and hits call for "Gordito". It rings for a moment before he hears a voice from the other line.
Hey Stevie, whatsup?
Not much man... just back from my spiritual camp I've been telling you about. Doing some mental training and what not with the Master. Have you signed up yet?
I had a look through the brochure but that place ain't for me. I'm not into that sort of thing, y'know.
That's cool, thought I'd ask. Hey listen: have you talked to Drake recently?
We did more than talk, brother. Well actually, he did a lot more. Kind of scared quite a few people with... don't worry. Why do you ask anyway?
He gave me a text message and I was wondering if you might have given it to him?
Oh right... yeah, I might have given him your number. I told him it would be best if he talked to you about his problems. If you saw what he was like, you'd be the perfect person to fix him up.
Whilst I don't do that anymore, I'm sure Sandy might be interested. At least I know it came from a good source. Speak of the devil, my ride just pulled up... I'll catch you on Meltdown for our tag match. Train hard, mate.
Will do.
As Kurtesy hangs up the phone, a motorbike pulls up in the carpark and turns off. The person driving gets off the bike and pulls off their helmet, revealing to be Dr. Sandy Deserts. The two smile as they greet each other with hugs before Sandy takes the World title and holds it for herself feeling how heavy it is.
Wow... you're finally the World Heavyweight Champion. How does that make you feel?
Kurtesy smiles.
Part of me is ecstatic that I'm holding the title, yet part of me feels like I have a duty to perform Sandy... I can't waste this opportunity to do good for the title for once.
Sandy hands back the title.
I'm sure you're more than capable of keeping it. How come you didn't throw a massive party like the times you won the tag team titles?
First time was a massive thing. Debut match and I'm a champ... second time was force-fed by Doug Crashin and the group finally gaining success. This time... its the real deal. World champ shouldn't be celebrating, he should be pouring everything he's got into this title and I'm going to do that, starting with that tag team match I've got coming up... speaking of which, do you mind dropping me off at Drake Callahan's place? I need to talk with him.
Sandy nods.
What about Gordito?
I've already spoke with him... I'm going to need more time with Drake though: we are like two different people.
Sandy smiles as she heads back over to the bike, putting her helmet back on. Steven follows and grabs the spare helmet from the bike's hidden compartment, putting it on as Sandy starts the vehicle. Both get on and ride off.
-----------------------------------------------------------
Kurtesy has finally reached the location of Drake Callahan's place, even after getting lost and being chased down by Asian gang members in an epic story worth telling. However, the story skips too far ahead and we have to settle for Kurtesy knocking on the door with a 6 pack in his hands. After a couple of moments, a loud noise can be heard from inside. It sounds like a girl screaming and Kurtesy quickly barges down the door, getting inside to find out what the trouble is. To his surprise, he does not find a girl but instead Drake almost glued to the television as he watches a bright and colourful animated cartoon show. He doesn't seem to notice Kurtesy until he drops down the 6 pack and checks all the rooms for a girl. Drake turns around with a huge smile on his face.
Hey bud... yeah, the World champ is here!
Kurtesy looks at him confused.
Is there a girl in here?
A girl? Where?
In your home?
Really?
Drake begins parting his hair and sniffs his breath, checking if he's good to talk to a woman.
Wait... so you don't know if there is a girl in your home?
Probably... I've had a lot of girls come through the chateau de la Callahan if you know what I'm saying!
So then... who screamed?
Drake looks a bit embarrassed but considering his inebriated state he laughs it off.
Ah... my bad. That was probably me... I've been watching this show and it scared me a little.
Steven looks over to the television Drake is pointing at and sees a logo for My Little Pony come up. Steven looks more unimpressed than Stacey Madison on a bad day.
You serious? That... a kid's show for little girls?
Drake stares at him with malice before remembering his code of love and tolerating, switching to a smile.
I bet if you watched a couple of episodes you'd be hooked.
Nah, not a big fan. I just came around to chat about the match.
Well... looks like you're going to have to watch this show with me if you want to chat about the match.
Reluctantly, Steven sits down with the 6 pack and hands one to Drake. He grabs one and skulls it before grabbing the next one and doing the same.
I'm going to need more beer.
You read my mind brony.
- Status
