MD79: Chris K.O vs. Alex Bowen

[Viola Moonlight]

Two former Apostles of the Chaos order will be meeting in the ring against each other as the White Knight of WZCW, Chris K.O will be facing the King of Mayhem, Alex Bowen. Although their dark past has since faded in obscurity, there will no doubt be some bad blood boiling underneath the surface that will be looking to explode come Meltdown.

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

 

[Uncle Phatso]

The scene opens up, Alex Bowen and his brother David are sitting in his front room. Both drinking a Colombian brand of coffee, David sits on a couch reading a paper. While Alex stretches out on the couch. The morning sun peaks through his blinds, casting a few rays of shine on his carpet. Alex yawns and looks over at David.

Alex- Good stuff, Huh?

David reaches down over his paper to a small stand and picks up his cup. A smile crosses his face after a sip of the almost black liquid.

David- Very, it's nice to sit down and do this, Alex.

Alex- To true, I needed a break. They let me skip the house shows this week. To recharge the battery, kind of like how they did with Drake last week. But I was warned, if I took this. I get a rough week, and they went kidding. Chris K.O

Alex lets out a loud sigh, and Davids newspaper shakes. He is laughing, Alex stares at him, gritting his teeth.

Alex- What's so funny, brother?

David- Oh, just this comic, I do love Garfield.

Alex- Shut up, you were laughing at me facing K.O.

David- Maybe? But really, Alex. Come on, you can't say that you didn’t ever expect this? You hung the man like he was Christ, after you ran him into the ground for a few weeks. You two are more alike than you think, you both worked your asses off for a goal this past pay per view. Well his was to put the boss out of business, and yours was for pride and honor. I like to think that he was really fighting for the same thing.

Alex- How so? He was fighting to put Burna out of the company, I was trying to prove I was the best. I mean we both fought for something. But that's it.

David- See, that's where you are wrong... You both kept with something, even though I don't like how you did it. You kept with a goal, and in the end you won. Ricky can say the fans will remember his actions over his loss for the rest of time. But really, no they won't. No one remembers the guy who lost the big match. He wanted to be stupid, and be a hard ass. So he lost, he could have just walked up and took it. Ended it, but no... he had to further his legacy, and he got stuck like a pig.

Alex- Enough talk about him..

Alex clears the air around his head, while rolling his eyes.

Alex- I've dealt with him enough this past year. You talk about losers, well I lost last week. For the first time in a few months. I'm at this point right now, where I don't know if it bothers me. I will have another chance. But on the other hand, I need to win. Just like you said, losses with a showing are nothing. I told everyone they could see how hard I've been training and I let them down.

David- You hit your spots dude, you just have to focus on the finish. It's not as easy to knock someones head off with a chair, as it is to sink in a submission. You have to learn that, and dude. I think that loss is doing a lot for you to be honest. You have nothing but time now, X and Overlast both know you are the real deal now. No one can use the argument, Oh come out without weapons now. That was a pretty scary match, bro. It's all about keeping that pace up, and fighting the fight. Remember before you won the Mayhem title? You lost your first match.
Alex- Ehhh, don't remind me of that. One of my least favorite moments in this company. This is a whole new place, David. I've had a handful of clean matches. But damn, that really was a work out. That kid is a fireball.

David folds up his paper and puts it down on the stand. He gets up out of his chair and motions for his bother to do the same.

David- Speaking of that match, how is your back old man?

Alex- This old man can still beat your ass, don't you forget that.

Alex shakes a finger at his brother, but laughs it off. He gets up, and turns around. Pulling up his shirt he unveils a nice purple and black bruise the size of a football helmet. The small of his back, up to his ribs are looking like eye shadow today.

Alex- Nothing new, It doesn’t really hurt. The doctor said nothing broken, nothing bruised internally. So K.O can hit me in the back all he wants. He will just be doing what people have been for years. Bruises are part of what I do.

Alex Shrugs his shoulders. Slowly lowering his shirt he sits back in his old position. David looks up at the clock.

David- That grub should be here by now. Paying ten dollars to deliver it, and they can't even deliver it on time.

Alex- You called subway to deliver at 8 in the morning... they don't even deliver, and you have to bitch about it. Lord, better check that for spit... We have nothing but time anyways. I called Andrew and took this week off in his gym. He said James wouldn't be happy. But everyone needs a quick break every once in a while.

David- I really hope you aren't taking this break to well. You do need to train, but I guess I can't argue. Days have melted into weeks. Maybe this break will give James more fat to trim off of you.

Alex scoffs at the last statement. Looking down at what once was a beer gut, he smiles.

Alex- It's not even about weight loss anymore, it's about training my stamina. I gotta keep up with everyone. The past is the past, but I couldn't beat Burna. K.O took him out, now I've got to up my game. I think the White Knight will get a nice surprise. Because the thing about everyone else, is they are just in it to win. No one can cause pain like me, Ty can't and the whole roster is really going to have to take notice. Just like the Mayhem division, I’m going to make this place mine..

The scene cuts out, only to have a few seconds of dead space. Static starts up, only to show another black screen. Slowly a dim light starts. A ring of candles are around a bald man sitting in a chair. His arms are out outstretched. His hands that seem to control the lighting of the candle are empty, but you could imagine a him grasping an imaginary baseball. The formerly dim light now blazes a sick glow across this man's face. He is bald, with a neatly trimmed beard. Smug oozes from the man's body language, he lowers his arms.

Man- A monolithic beast bearing many names will rise. Soon off in the distance, cries of anguish will resonate beneath the surface. Beyond thousands of agonizing screams, the laughter of a dominate being will echo. The devourer of careers, the butcher, only finds satisfaction in their suffering. For years the monumental destroyer laid dormant.

The man greedily rubs his hands together. A smile stretches across his face, one could imagine his leathery face cracking from the pressure. But it stays in one piece.

Man- I'm almost aroused in anticipation, when the black gates open... Hell will be unleashed upon this place. Horror and bloodshed will only follow this man.

Slowly standing up, the man starts breathing heavily.

Man- You will only trade blood for your injustices upon this man. There is no salvation, for he will awake to conquer you. He will come to conquer you all. He shall destroy you.

He shakes his finger wildly at the camera, and then points to his head.

Man- Trust me, there is no saving anyone in his path. White Knight... rejoice. Because the seed of doubt has only been planted. He will run himself into the ground, before he realizes it all. I will show him the way. But you are safe... for now.

Slowly shaking his head, he puts up one hand and slowly closes it. The light dims, and then vanishes completely. Only footsteps can be heard.

 

[Kermit]

“Demons are like obedient dogs; they come when they are called.”

- Remy de Gourmont​

The scene opens up with the eerie repetition of strained breathing. The occupant of such breathes seems to be trying to exhale any inner turmoil within his lungs. Or maybe even something deeper. Chris K.O., the White Knight of WZCW, has his upper-body barely elevated by his pressing palms on the cold pavement of an alleyway. His pores nark in a sweating fashion as booze oozes out of his draining body. Face down, tucked in the mid-section of two scabbed buildings; he pants a drunkards remorse. His eyes are wide with fear as he stares off into the endless slate-gray of the ground.

This is the man that is to usher in a new era of purity into WZCW? This is their White Knight? This man is no messiah. He is not the chosen one, and prophecies did not foretell of his arrival. His character is not based off an isolated incident, but rather on these soul-soaking questions: How will he adapt? How will he evolve? Can he pinpoint the problem and resolve it so that his good character is consistent?

We see the pale face of Christopher once more as he stares on in a drowning sweat. Suddenly, we find ourselves in the Situation Room beneath The Marigold.

Chris, dressed in casual dark-blue jeans and a white t-shirt, sits in a bored-fashion with his fist tucked underneath the left side of his face, and his elbow resting on the solid stainless-steel conference table that acts as the epicenter of the room. Barely a foot away from Chris’ elbow is the symbol of his purpose. A brilliant white helmet that boasts in integrity. The camera pans back to a disengaged Chris, and finally some noise enters the silent scene. A continuous train of talking can be heard off-screen and we quickly learn who it is coming from. Ian Crawford is standing a few feet away from Chris and appears to be going over charts on a large projector screen that is located on one of the walls in the Situation Room.

Ian had enticed Chris into a meeting with the revelation of who his next opponent would be, but Chris should of known better. He should of known that Ian would take advantage of this scheduled time and go over every little piece of information of their current project, Project Clean. Ian is all about details, Chris isn’t. But Chris respects Ian for his dedication to the things that he could care less about. If Chris is the machine, than Ian is his programmer.

Ian: Are you listening?

Chris doesn’t respond, and it seems as though he is lost in his own little world.

Ian: Chris!

Ian slams his hand down on the steel table, and the vibration connects to the elbow, which connects to the face of our hero.

Chris: Yeah, yeah! I was listening.

Ian pulls off his glasses with an annoyed look on his face. He begins to wipe them off with a fine cloth that he had tucked away inside his pocket. Chris knows this action better than anything. He knows that Ian only does this when he is carefully choosing his next words to say.

Ian: What is the point of telling you all of this, when you do not care to listen?

Chris: I am listening, it just seems like a little too much if you ask me. I mean, you bring me down here and go over every suspicious superstar on the roster and their current actions. We gave up control of the WZCW to the board so that we didn’t have to do this type of thing. I mean, I don’t need to know that Derek Jacobs bought a pair of shoes last week. How about we just worry about the big guys, and make them our priority? Like we are doing with Steven Holmes.

Chris had been locked into an eye-connection with Ian during his speech, but only just now realizes the disappointment on Ian’s face. Chris looks down at the ground and rubs the back of his neck.

Chris: I mean, come on Ian. What do you want me to say?

Ian: I want you to fulfill the oath that you took when you decided to take on the mantel of WZCW’s protector.

Suddenly, Chris is caught in-between remorse and defense. He wants to bark back at Ian’s comment, but he can’t morally determine if he should.

Ian: I remember a nobody a year ago that beat down a WZCW Legend with a chair.

Chris looks up at Ian, who sports a winning glare.

Ian: That is why we look at the nobodies. Because anybody at anytime can make a name for themselves and distribute chaos.

Chris rubs the back of his neck, but for some reason the bite of his anger is still there. He still wants to be right in this situation. His prideful youth is showing, and he knows that Ian can see it.

Chris: Look, I understand. I just feel like….

Chris looks up at Ian.

I feel like I have lost some of my focus.

Ian finally lets down his stern demeanor and begins to sympathize with his partner.

Ian: Look, that is the purpose of Project Clean. To help you focus and prioritize what you are doing. In fact, that is why I chose your next opponent, Alex Bowen.

This irks something inside of Chris as his eyebrows become slanted. He looks up at Ian with an uncomfortable look.

Ian: We have to put an exclamation point on Project Clean before your match at Apocalypse. What better way than for you to fight the most un-clean wrestler on the roster. Not only that, but you have some unfinished business with your former brethren.

Chris shakes his head with a disturbed look on his face. He acts as if Ian has said something completely wrong, and perhaps he did, but Chris stands up in a jolt and begins to spew out spite.

Chris: Unfinished? I finished that damn chapter of my life whenever I closed the casket on Ty!

Ian slowly steps towards Chris and puts his hands up to calm him.

Chris: And don’t call him my former brethren either. He was never part of my "family", he didn’t mean anything to me like James did. I don’t have to atone for him. He was Ty's, and Ty's alone. Now, he is just like a wandering dog, whose mother was killed. Stripped away from the nourishing milk and now wandering in the dead of night. He has no purpose, and only waits for a speeding car to burn rubber in the night and put him out of his misery. That is what he has become.

Ian once again makes a calming gesture with his hands.

Ian: Chris, what is wrong? Where is this anger coming from?

Chris: What is wrong? Project Clean is wrong. I’ll never be this white-washed hero you need me so badly to be. I can only be the hero that I was whenever I shut the casket on Ty. One with flaws, just like the people who cheer me on. Why is that so wrong? Arianna left, and I didn’t go after her because you told me to focus on my image. Now, I can’t even smoke a damn cigarette. To hell with project clean!

With a swiping motion, Chris knocks the White Knight helmet off of the table and sends it crashing to the wall and tumbling down to the ground. Ian raises his hand to his forehead as Chris exit’s the room. Very slowly, Ian steps back and sits into one of the chairs at the table. He rubs his forehead slowly as he sighs.

Ian: Perhaps he is right, he didn‘t vanquish Ty by being perfect, but by just being the better man.…

The scene transitions and we cut to a shot that appears to be several hours later. We see Chris K.O. at a bar. He has a shot glass, with a foul liquid inside of it, raised high in the air. The bar is quite crowded, but no one seems to be paying him any attention. He proceeds to say a toast to himself.

Chris: To you Ian!

Chris takes the shot and then shakes the sour out of his mouth. He slaps the top of the bar and demands another. We cut to a shot of him raising another glass.

Chris: To Project Clean.

Chris nods at the notion and then takes a shot. We cut to a shot of him laughing and then back to a shot of him raising another glass.

Chris: To Arianna, wherever my love is!

Chris takes the shot again and squints his eyes as the tonic liquid trickles down his throat. Again, we cut to a shot of him raising a glass.

Chris: To Steven Holmes; get laid you English fool!

Chris takes the shot and then we cut to a shot of Chris having one of the bar guest’s head tucked underneath his arm. Chris is laughing at something, and the man does not look amused. We cut again to Chris holding up another shot.

Chris: To Alex Bowen, you sick mother f-

Someone bumps into the back of Chris and causes him to spill some of the liquid in his shot glass. He shouts an untranslatable swear and then takes the shot. And yet once again we transition and see Chris holding up another shot.

Chris: To Dad…

We see Chris take the shot once more and then cut to a scene of him wiping away tears from underneath his eyes. The scene focuses on the distraught Chris for a moment, but then switches over to him holding a glass high-up once more.

Chris: And finally, to that bastard Ty Burna.

Chris takes a long look at his shot glass.

Chris: I hope you rot in hell.

The glass is plunged up to the lips of Chris as he heaves back the drink. He slams the glass down and smacks his lips violently. He snorts up a bit of snot within his nostrils and drunkenly gazes into the empty air. We get this shot, with nothing but bar-chatter in the background for a few seconds, and then finally transition. The scene cuts to a shot of Chris stumbling down an alleyway. From the rhythmic tone of his voice, he seems to be muttering some sort of sea-shanty, but that is up to interpretation. His mood seems to be the polar opposite from when he was in the Situation Room with Ian.

Suddenly, Chris stops in the middle of the alley-way. A thought has seeped into his mind. The only kind of thought that can be unleashed with a certain mix of liquors and brooding emotions. A bottle of Jack Daniels can awaken a certain kind of demon. Chris groans in pain as he clinches the top of his head and drops to his knees.

We cut to a very dark room. So dark, that only a stone throne can be seen. It is barely lit within a purple aura. A dark figure rests boastfully on it, with only it’s purple eyes piercing through the emptiness. A raspy voice perpetrates the sound barrier.

???: Have you forgotten my presence in your head, my pet? Long did you allow Ty to reign in your mind, but now you have disposed of the king. You have left the throne vacant. Instead of occupying such empty space with a false ruler of “good”, you left it waiting for me. Now you have awaken your true master.

We cut back to Chris in the alley. He squeezes his head violently in-between his hands as he tries to squeeze out the force inside of his mind.

???: You are stronger, I will give you that my pet. But surely you know that all paths lead to destruction. All paths lead to me. Give up control. It is only a matter of time until I take back what is mine.

Chris: No!

Chris groans violently as he begins to flatten his body on the ground while continuing to squeeze his head.

???: Do not resist my pet, you do not have the power. Back into darkness I hide, but your doubt will soon call on me again.

We cut back to the scene of the dark room with the throne, but it slowly fades into the dark abyss. We cut back to Chris who is now in the position that we saw him in the opening scene. Sweat is sliding down his face, and saliva is escaping the corners of his mouth. Once again, we are posed with some questions: How will he adapt? How will he evolve? Can he pinpoint the problem and resolve it so that his character is consistent? Or to sum all of those up into one: How will he react to what has just happened?

Suddenly, Chris’ breathing begins to stabilize as he plants his palms more firmly on the ground. He slowly rises from his laying position and brings himself up to his feet. He wipes the spit from the corner of his mouth and speaks softly into the cold and vacant alleyway.

Chris: Once upon a time, you invaded a man’s mind and ruled over it. But now that man has grown. Now that man is a knight. I have already overthrown one tyrant in my mind, and I’ll be damned if I’ll let another one take his place.

Chris brushes off his clothes as he collects himself.

Chris: Drunk or not, here I come.

The scene transitions back to the Situation Room. The setting is different this time as we see Ian silently reading a newspaper on the far-end of the steel table. In front of him is a steaming cup of coffee and the white helmet that Chris slammed against the wall one day ago. His routine paper-reading activity is perturbed by the entrance of Chris, who is now dressed in his formal tie. Black suit and black tie; you know the drill.

Chris makes his way deeper into the Situation Room towards Ian. Ian respectfully lays down his paper and hands the floor over to Chris.

Chris: I am not perfect-

Ian begins to speak, but Chris holds up a finger to stop him.

Chris: -but I understand that you only want the best from me, and I want to give you that.

Ian studies Chris' face for a moment, and then speaks up.

Ian: I don’t want you to be the best for me, I want you to be the best for WZCW. You don’t owe me anything, Chris.

Chris: No, but you are just as much a part of who I am as I am.

Ian finally cracks a smile, and this breaks the tension between the two.

Ian: You should know that I am changing the direction of Project Clean. It is no longer intended to be a white-wash method, but simply a development of consistent good character.

Chris: Good.

Chris smiles as he takes a seat at the conference table.

Chris: This fits perfectly into what I have planned. Which is why I have called you here.

Ian cocks an eyebrow. Chris knows that he is digesting the irony of the mirrored situation that Ian had Chris in only a day ago. Chris can only smirk in response.

Chris: With the old direction, you said Alex Bowen was the exclamation point on Project Clean, but now, with this new direction, I think he is just a really good bulletin point.

Ian gives Chris a curious look.

I want to go after a bigger prize. I want to go after the real exclamation point.

For one of the first times ever, Ian is completely confused. He begins to wonder if he missed someone on the WZCW roster. He begins to search through the database of his mind.

Chris reaches in his suit pocket and pulls out what appears to be a business card. He places it on the table and slides it in front of Ian.

Chris: I would like you to make me an appointment for sometime next week.

Ian looks at the card and then at Chris. The camera pans down and we see that the name “Steven Kurtesy” is bolded in the center with his contact information just below it. Ian nods curiously.

Chris: Thanks, Ian. I need to go train now.

Chris winks at Ian, gets up, and then begins to walk down the long-stretch of table that occupies the center of the room. Just before he meets the table’s end, Ian speaks up.

Ian: Hey Chris!

Chris stops and turns around. He is met by the sight of a sliding cigarette carton gliding its way down the table towards him. Chris smiles and places his hand on the carton. He hesitates for a moment and then looks up at Ian.

Chris: Save one for me after Apocalypse.

With that comment, Chris slides the cigarette carton slightly forward and then exit’s the room. We see Ian smirking in a pleasing manner, and then the screen goes black.