MD84: Steven Holmes vs. El Califa Dragon

[a0161613]

One of three big matches scheduled for Meltdown sees the exciting new Dragon taking on the Elite Steven Holmes in singles competition. Holmes can rest assured that this match for him will go smoothly with his current rival being taken care of thanks to the bounty he placed but the same cannot be said for the Dragon. He has been the recent interest of Callahan and you can almost guarantee that he will be watching this match as intently as he did on Aftershock.

Deadline is 11:59pm Central Time, Tuesday 5th February. Extensions as per thread.​

 

[Kermit]

Steven Holmes has been granted a 24hr extension.

 

[FunKay the Inevitable]

Industry. It is the backbone of the economy. The hard working me and women who are employed within its mighty grasp keep the world spinning. One such man is Ernest Rosenberg. A tall, powerful man with thick spectacles and a brash moustache to match, Ernest has worked at his father’s factory for as long as he can remember. He’s arguably the hardest of those hard workers and he’s on his way up the metallic staircase which leads to his father’s office. He’s made this trip so many times usually with a goofy grin hidden underneath his facial hair. This time though he is stern, cold and determined. He has just received news which will alter not only his career, but arguably his life. In the background, the hard work of the factory employees booms all around him. Like great explosions of industrial magic, the work continues despite Ernest’s personal uncertainty.

Reaching the summit, Ernest sees two men. One he recognises as his father. The other is an unknown, at least to Ernest. We are familiar with this man. It is Boss; lawyer extraordinaire and fellow moustache enthusiast. They are looking through documents and adding Ernest’s father’s signature to them. Confirming his worst fears, Ernest begins to move towards his father’s office. The echoing footsteps are swallowed in the clang of metal and the murk of the factory. He bypasses both men before his father looks upward, he appears upset and goes to stop Ernest, but Boss puts his arm out to block the old man. He shakes his head. This is between Ernest and his new personal demon. Solemnly, they resume their paperwork.

Standing across from the old wooden door of his father’s office, Ernest stares. For years it has stood here as a sign of his family’s control of the factory and as a comfort, almost a home away from home. It was warm, it held plenty of memories and it represented a better time. The factory has suffered due to the world wide economic issues and something had to change. Gone is the warmth. Gone is the control. Gone are the better times. The memories remain, but they are not enough to comfort Ernest. He stares as a workman chisels his father’s name away from the misty glass. Ernest’s face twists upwards into a scowl. The workman takes note for a second and steps back, allowing Ernest to proceed to the door. In the years his father owned the factory, Ernest always knocked. It was a mark of respect. He does not respect the new leader.

Bursting in, Ernest’s anger begins to boil. He stands in the doorway, on the cusp of entering a soiled land. He squints and fixates on the back of the factory’s new owner. He has heard things about this man. He has heard he is a monster, an outright carnivore. He’s heard so many bad things that more than just a streak of fear even runs through Ernest’s very being. He’s heard all these vile things and yet now he meets his new nemesis; Steven Holmes. With his back turned, Holmes seems to not notice the intrusion. He is peering out of a large window and onto the factory gates. He notes the comings and goings of the day. Ernest stands and boils, his fear abandoning him and becoming replaced with the anger he had done so well to contain until now. He prepares to burst out when suddenly...

Holmes: I wouldn’t think about it if I were you.

Stopped dead in his tracks with his mouth wide open, Ernest ceases. He closes his mouth, realising he was engaging it before his brain. Holmes sharply turns around to confront his new employee.

Holmes: Please allow me to introduce myself. I’m a man of wealth and taste.

Holmes pauses, a smug smirk plastered on his face. His hopes of Ernest understanding the reference are quashed as Ernest stands, frozen and un-amused. Holmes’ grin slowly dissolves and is replaced with a sneer. He turns away, dismissing his employee and returning to his position at the window. There is a pause. Holmes turns his head back to see Ernest still stood in the same position. His face reads slight confusion as he shakes his head. He stops and returns his full attention to Ernest, turning his whole body to confront the invader in his office.

Holmes: Well then, I suppose you have a reason for being here in my office?

Silence. Ernest slowly stews, his brain suppressing the outward expression of his anger. His fists are clenched to absorb any outward pouring. His look is fixated on Holmes. The “Elite” raises and eyebrow inquisitively. He glances over Ernest and notes the fists and the staring. His other eyebrow now rises and he chuckles lightly. He waggles his finger indicating that he knows what’s going on here. Moving over to his desk, Holmes pulls out a glass and a misty glass bottle with some sort of liquid inside.

Holmes: I see. You’re angry. Understandable. I have a reputation for being a bit of a cutthroat.

Pouring the contents of the bottle into the glass, it becomes clear that it is some form of alcohol.

Holmes: Not to worry though. Your job is safe...

Holmes lifts the glass to his lips.

Holmes: For now.

Under a snide grin, Holmes chugs back his drink. At the same time, Ernest has had all he can take and storms over to the desk. In one swooping movement he floors the bottle and it shatters, the contents exploding all over the floor, as well as partially onto Holmes and Ernest’s legs. Holmes swallows his drink hard, calmly places his glass onto his desk and still smiles. This infuriates Ernest who grabs Holmes by the collar. The rage is now visible all over Ernest’s face, but still Holmes merely smirks away.

Holmes: Temper, temper my dear lad. Now would you like to let me go or am I going to have to have you eviscerated?

On the word “eviscerated”, Holmes’ face drops into a much more sinister expression.

Ernest: You think I’m scared of you Holmes? You think that because you have a ton of money and a fortune not one of us workers can ever hope to dream of that I’m frightened of you?

Holmes: Yes, and if you aren’t then that’s plain ignorance and stupidity. Every employee here should be utterly terrified of me and not because of some reputation. No they should be terrified of my sheer presence. I am a frighteningly powerful individual and you shouldn’t ever forget that. I can break people mentally and physically. I have enough wealth to place bounties on people’s heads and you aren’t afraid of me? Hogwash. I can feel your hands tremble as I speak. You’re lying to not only me, but yourself.

Ernest relinquishes hold of Holmes. He looks at his hands and notes the trembling. He is surprised but knows that deep down the aristocrat speaks at least some truth. Holmes brushes himself down and reverses the situation swiftly, grabbing Ernest and slamming him against the wall.

Holmes: Tut tut. How quickly the momentum changes, eh?

Ernest is paralysed in sudden fear. He fights it with all his might, but he can’t help but tremble at the situation he is in. Holmes’ eyes ignite with fire.

Holmes: I battle behemoths, take on beasts, face off with monsters, grapple with powerhouses and you think I’d be intimidated by some angry moustached bloke? No. I stared into the abyss and I laughed right at it. I had my body wracked in pain and devastated in hell itself and you think you would put some fear in me? Not a chance. I face world champions and you believe you had a chance of upsetting the power I have over you? You have to be joking. I am your leader now for better or worse. I am your figurehead and you have to accept that, just as men like Big Dave and David Cougar have to accept that I am the future of WZCW and not a risk taking moron like Triple X. I am of a higher plane, an upper echelon and yet this buffoon believes he has a chance to deface and defeat me? No!

With each piece of his rant, Holmes’ face edges closer to Ernest’s. The latter’s eyes are wide open and they stare directly into Holmes’. They are mere inches from one-another’s face. Holmes bears his teeth to strike further fear into the worker. With the fear at a maximum, Holmes capitalises and continues to rant maniacally.

Holmes: For some reason WZCW refuses to consider me the number one contender and instead of handing me the opportunity on a platter, having established myself with a reign of destruction, I must now face off against a plethora of high flying imbeciles who take unnecessary risks to injure not only themselves but me. I cannot afford that injury and as such, Triple X, the main culprit will be taken care of before he has the chance to try and injure me. The $500,000 bounty will take him out one way...or another. With his non-existence, there will be nothing stopping me from ripping into the World Champion’s flesh and tearing the title from his very being. But before my terrible reign can begin I have to face El Califa Dragon.

A masked man of mystery, Dragon showed up out of nowhere and got his spot handed to him. He’s lost the vast majority of his battles and yet he is rewarded with a potential championship match? How can he receive such an honour whilst I, someone who was bred to be better am held back and have to claw my way up the mountain and make so many sacrifices? That is something that the conspiracy theorists like Drake Callahan can investigate long-term. I have my own way of dealing with people like that. I will take note, I will study and I will understand his style and I will use all that research and investment in my total and utter decimation of him. His wings shall be clipped and I will reign supreme. Do you understand?

Holmes stares right into Ernest’s very soul. The worker nods and swallows hard. He sweats profusely, afraid of what Holmes might do next. Then, the “Elite” releases his hold of Ernest. He cracks his neck, adjusts his tie and backs off as Ernest slumps against the wall. His breathing increases, relieved to have survived such a situation.

Holmes: Now do you understand why you should fear me?

Ernest does not respond, still panting. Holmes smiles, but not with malice or evil in mind. It is a pure, honest smile.

Holmes: Good. I’ll leave you to clean up. I have some paperwork to handle. I look forward to working with you boy.

Exiting through his door, Holmes begins to laugh before that laughter is engulfed in the sound of the factory hard at work. Ernest is left alone, left to contemplate what his future holds.

 

[Ty Burna]

The scene opens to just outside Califa's preferred gym in Mexico, the bubbly Becky Serra can be seen walking up to the gym, with a number of eyes following her every movement. As she stops in front of the door, a few men walk up towards her and Becky looks up nervously at the three men. The three men cross their arms and stand in front of her, their eyes looking down the streets at the peering people, a firm notice to those around the neighborhood to avert their gaze. Becky bites her lower lip and begins to speak.

Becky: Um....

A taller and older man with long black hair looks back at her and shakes his head.

Man: Estamos aquí para cuidar de ti. (We're here to look after you.)

Becky looks up confused and shrugs, motioning that she doesn't under stand. The man sighs and turns towards her, his tattoos prominently showing on his arms.

Man: El Califa will be here shortly señorita.

Becky nods her head and looks around the neighborhood, trying to scan for the masked man to make his appearance, a look of relief forming on her face. A few moments pass and Califa can be seen turning the corner and making a bee line for the gym. As he walks up to the group in front of the door he nods his head towards the three, a long intricate handshake between Califa and each man proceeds his arrival. The four talk in Spanish before the three laugh and look back towards to Becky before taking off. Califa turns his head back towards Becky and nods his head.

Califa: Welcome Becky Serra. El Califa apologizes for being late.

Becky: Oh it's no problem Dragon. Shall we?

Califa nods and reaches into the hoodie he's wearing and grabs a set of keys. He unlocks the door and holds the door open for Becky as she walks in. Califa flips on a light switch and slowly the lights begin to turn on in the dim and dusty gym. Becky looks around as Califa motions towards a couple of chairs set up next to the ring in the center of the gym. The two walk over to them, Califa plopping down onto his chair why Becky takes a more dignified approach.

Becky: Let's get straight to it Dragon, at Aftershock you lost to Barbosa in one on one action.

Califa: Yes....El Califa failed to be victorious yet again.

Becky: It seems as if you had the match in hand before missing a big kick, leading to Barbosa connecting with the Mood Stabilizer and then the Doppleganger. This has to be frustrating for you.

Califa takes a few moments before responding, an audible sigh escaping him, a clear indication of his frustration. Yes he had lost definitively again. While it may have been against a former World Heavyweight Champion, it stings just all the same, the taste of loss grows sour on his tongue. He begins to speak, his voice dropping in volume as he replies to Becky's inquiry.

Califa: Yes....yes El Califa could not overcome Barbosa. Perhaps I am not as cut out for WZCW as I had believed. El Califa will say this however, he is competing night in and night out against the very best of this company. Look at The Beard and The Masked Gentleman, two men who I had defeated along with Ricky Runn a few weeks ago, now within grasp of the Tag Team Titles. El Califa applauds their effort and hopes that they continue to see the success they deserve. They lost to Ricky and I, and rather then be depressed about the defeat, they worked harder then they ever have to advance in the tournament. The Dragon carries that same courage and fire within it's very soul, and it's time for El Califa to show it.

Becky: Management certainly isn't making it easier on you, this coming Meltdown you face the sinister and vile Steven Holmes. Some believe he's the rightful contender for the World Heavyweight Title, and it's clear he's going to devastate everyone in his path to get there. What can you do to stop his momentum and stun the Elitist?

Califa: Steven Holmes, a man with an agenda and a man who believes himself Elite over all others. He is a foolish man, without humbleness you cannot appreciate what gains you make in this world. I have fought many like him Becky Serra. They are culos pomposos, pompous asses. They believe themselves to be on a higher pedestal, and perhaps he is Becky. Perhaps Steven Holmes is the head honcho of WZCW, the best this company has to offer. Or maybe it's just his ego feeding him more illusions then the likes of the Demonio del Caos (Demon of Chaos) Ty Burna could once conjure. But there is one thing about having such illusions Becky Serra.

Becky: And what would that be Dragon?

El Califa: A man can believe so strongly in those illusions, listen to his ego so closely, that he can become the greatest. It's no secret Becky that in the wrestling world, you have to have an edge in order to succeed. All of us are messed up in the head in one way or another. We all carry dark secrets, El Califa included. I may act humble Becky, but in order to drive myself to greater success, I must tell myself every day that I am the greatest warrior. El Califa does not act as if that is something to brag about, he treats it as if it is fact. To not believe in yourself is to die Becky Serra.

Becky: So, do you believe in yourself El Califa? It seems you go through identity crises more then most.

Califa stares forward at Becky, and one could almost feel the tension rise in the room as Califa takes into account her question. He lowers his head for a bit before responding.

Califa: Are you saying I'm a failure Becky Serra? Are you saying that all El Califa has is this mask and a history of being great in Mexico only? ¿Soy un fraude? (Am I a fraud?) Well, what do you think of me Becky Serra? Do you consider me a fake? Am I just deadwood to these established people in WZCW?

Becky: Dragon, I...I didn't mean...

Califa: No! That's exactly it! No one ever means what they say anymore!

Califa suddenly stands straight up out of his chair, his chest moving up and down as his breathing becomes heavy. Becky leans back in her chair, holding her hands up in front of her as Califa stares down at her.

Califa: I'll tell you exactly this Becky Serra. El Califa believes in himself fully and completely. El Califa means exactly what he says when he tells you this, that I will defeat Steven Holmes at Metldown. I will stand over his fallen body, his eyes rolling into the back of his head after Me falta la cabeza de mierda en! (I kick his head off!) I'm going to stand over him, my arm raised in victory as his elite ass will be trying to scrape itself off the canvas. I'm tired of playing nice guy Becky Serra. It's time for them to fear the roar of the Dragon! El Califa is going to bring the crashing sound of failure all around Steven Holmes, and if Drake Callahan decides to come around with whatever forsaken conspiracy theory he's got stuck in his head, I'll kick his god damn head off too! I grow tired of his presence near my match.

Becky: Wh...what do you have to say about Drake Callahan coming to ringside the last few weeks??

Califa begins pacing back and forth in front of Becky, his hands holding the sides of his head before he stops and picks up a metal trash can next to them, flinging it across the gym as he let's out a guttural yell.. The can crashes and a loud clanging sound echoes throughout the empty gym.

El Califa: Do you know what I have to say about Drake Callahan Becky? El Califa is sick of him. Pedazo de mierda (Piece of shit), the man has no honor and no respect. Just look at his personal life Becky, nothing more then a scumbag that needs to be erased. And yet he uses the very thing that disgusts me about him and he wins the World Title with it. Do you know what we do to people like him here in Mexico Becky?

Becky: Do I want to know?

Califa stares her down and shakes his head briefly. He takes a step towards Becky and stands over her, his breathing still heavy as he tries to think of the right words to say.

Califa: If Drake Callahan decides to get involved with my business again, I'm going to show the whole world what us proud Mexicans do to those that disrespect us. No, in fact Becky, I invite Drake Callahan to come down to ringside at Meltdown. He can watch as I dissect the supposed Elite Blowhard and if Drake wants, he too can be incinerated in the Dragon's blaze! Drake puede ser Hollywood ahora, pero yo vengo de la campana de Becky, y yo voy a mostrar exactamente lo que la capucha le hace a los que van a husmear en los que no pertenecen! (Drake may be Hollywood now, but I come from the hood Becky, and I'm going to show exactly what the hood does to those that go sniffing around where they don't belong!) I don't care about his former accolades, I don't give a damn about his conspiracy theories, and whatever his problem is with me I'll settle it the only way I know how, and that's to punch out that rotten smirk of his.

Califa turns and begins walking towards the door when Becky speaks up one final time, concern heavy in her voice.

Becky: Califa, I didn't mean to call you a failure.

Califa stops just at the door, his hand on the handle as he turns back towards her, his head lifting up as he does so.

Califa: We all fail in one way or another Becky Serra. I have failed many in my life, my fans, my family, most importantly my sister. I failed to honor her death last week against Barbosa, but the one thing I will never do Becky, is fail in being a decent human being like Drake Callahan and Steven Holmes. The Soul of the Dragon is one of honor and integrity, but it's high time that El Califa releases the Rage of the Dragon!

Califa opens the door and slams it close, leaving Becky alone in the gym when suddenly a near inaudible laughter can be heard from the corner behind Becky. Silver eyes can be seen briefly before Becky gets up and runs after Califa. As the door closes, a voice can be heard echoing throughout the gym.

???: And so it begins...

The scene fades out.