The most random set of shows in the WZCW calendar makes its return as Meltdown Madness & Ascension Anarchy kicks off the United Kingdom leg of the biggest WZCW World Tour in history! Nobody is safe when it comes to the Roulette Rounds as all matches, stipulations & opponents are completely unknown, decided by the most ruthless randomiser to ever exist. Partners may face partners; old rivalries may be re-ignited; surprise championship bouts and some of the weirdest stipulations will be up in the air as the Roulette Round hits. It is so random that not even management will know the results!
"Nothing is certain. Expect the unexpected."
RP's are due by Tuesday, July 7th, at 11:59PM CST (24 Hour extensions may be available by request)
Logan is sitting in front of his locker, having just finished getting into his normal attire. Simple blue jeans and a Boston sports shirt(Red Sox at the moment) was Logan's choice. He had his head down, frustrated by the outcome of his match.
Yes, Logan was surprised the WZCW fans chose him. Whether they did because they believed in him, or because they loved Mikey Stormrage and tried to give him an easy win didn't matter. "I should've won tonight." he muttered to himself. Hayden was off trying to get some autographs while Logan waited for Leon to come interview him.
There was a quick knock before Leon Kensworth walked into the room. "Hey Logan? Shall we begin?" Leon took a seat across from Logan and motioned for the camerman to begin filming.
Kensworth: Welcome Ladies and Gentlemen to this exclusive WZCW interview with impressive newcomer Logan McAllister!
Camera zooms out and we see Logan sitting across from Leon, somewhat irritated look on his face.
Kensworth: Well Logan, thanks for granting some time tonight after your debut here at Unscripted. Were you surprised the WZCW fans voted you into the match tonight with Mikey Stormrage?
McAllister: Surprised? Yeah, I'll admit I wasn't expecting them to vote for me. Maybe they thought I'd be an easy victory for their precious Mikey.
Kensworth: Well, you DID lose Logan. Maybe the fans knew what they were doing?
Logan shoots Leon a very evil look as he finishes his sentence. He sits forward and gets close to Leon.
McAllister: You trying to get smart Leon? Yes i lost to Stormrage. But it was bullshit. Mikey can't beat me one on one, those stupid lumberjacks are the reason I lost.
Kensworth: The lumberjacks? Really Logan? I seem to recall you destroying half the lumberjacks, before then hitting Mikey with a brainbuster for a pin attempt...how are they to blame?
McAllister: Leon....I'm not liking the attitude I'm sensing from you. If it wasn't for those lumberjacks, can we even count those as lumberjacks Leon? Like really? A 120lb Indian, a backstage attendant, and a guy from fucking ACCOUNTING??? If i didn't have to go out there and hurt them so i could continue my destruction of Stormrage, he would not have been victorious. Mikey knows it deep down. He doesn't want to face me again.
Leon looks a tad uncomfortable as he proceeds with his next question for the rookie.
Kensworth: Well, maybe the upcoming roulette rounds will adhere to your wishes. Speaking of the upcoming roulette, any thoughts? Opponents you'd like to face? Stipulations?
McAllister: It doesn't matter the opponent. I will go out there and crush whomever my opponent happens to be. I don't care if I'm given Slaughter, or Theron, or one of those pretty little women we got running around this federation. I am going out there to provide for my son. And if fate sends mikey my way....i look forward to righting the wrong that happened here tonight Leon.
Kensworth: Alright, well thank you Logan again for your time. I'm sure WZCW will be looking forward to your next step.
As Leon finishes, Hayden McAllister comes bursting in the room.
"Dad! Dad! i got autographs!!!" Hayden is beaming with a huge smile as he shows his dad who he got. "Look! I got elegANT to sign my book, and i got Matt Tastic, and James Howard....I even got Mikey Stormrage to sign it!"
Logan stops smiling as he takes a deep breath. He may not give two fucks about anybody on this roster, but they seem to make Hayden happy. Logan took another deep breath. "Cool buddy. Eventually you'll have the whole roster in that book. Anybody you wanted to get tonight that you missed?"
Logan picked up Hayden and sat him on his lap. "Well, i wanted to meet Eve Taylor.....she's super pretty." Hayden began to turn bright red as he finished speaking. "Smart kid Logan" Leon said as he finished his notes and headed out the door. "Ya damn right Leon"
**********
Hayden wakes up early on a Thursday morning, and runs to his dad's room. "Dad wake up!! It's Donut Day!!" Hayden jumps on his dad and wakes him up. "Alright Hayden. Go get ready and we'll go. Don't forget to brush your teeth!"
Logan and Hayden headed out to the donut shop near their home. Every Thursday since Hayden could remember, they'd always get a donut for breakfast. Inside Logan orders them some donuts, and he gets Hayden a chocolate milk. They sit down and dig in to the cakey goodness that is donuts.
As Hayden is finishing up, Logan goes and tosses the trash in the nearest trash can. After he dumps the trash he hears Hayden say a word he hoped he wouldnt hear for a loooong time to come.
"GRANDPA!!!"
Logan turned and saw Hayden running towards his grandpa, Thomas McAllister. Logan hadn't spoken to his father in many years. Thomas was an alcoholic, and was never there for Logan as a child. Logan always promised himself that he'd never be like Thomas "Blackout" McAllister.
Thomas stood up from hugging Hayden and held his hand out to Logan. "Hey son. Nice to see you again Logan." Logan stared a hole through his father. "Let me guess dad. You saw Unscripted, saw your son debut and thought to yourself 'What a great time to reconnect with my son'" Logan was beginning to turn red with anger as he tried to remain calm. "How much money do you need dad? Enough for a 30pk of beer and some hotpockets? I'm not giving you shit. You're lucky i dont walk you outside and fucking beat the shit out of you. How dare you. You were never, NEVER, ever a good father. It's disrespectful to real fathers, LIKE MYSELF, for you to even be called "dad" Thomas. You should just walk the fuck away now."
Hayden watched on nervously as he saw his dad getting furious. He hoped nothing bad was forthcoming. Thomas meanwhile, was still standing in front of his son, tears beginning to form.
"I'm sorry Logan. I was a horrible father to you. But im here now. And, ive been sober for 6 months. Not one drop of alcohol. Let me have a second chance to be in your life son."
"No. Fuck you. You think you can come back after 5yrs of just disappearing and say 'I'm sorry, give me another chance'? No. it doesn't work like that. Do you know how many birthdays i spent waiting outside of a bar for you? Or how many times i said i was hungry, and you'd go to the store, coming back with a 30pk of whatever fucking beer you were drinking at the time, but no food for your son. YOU CHOSE BEER OVER YOUR OWN FLESH AND FUCKING BLOOD!"
Logan pushed Thomas out of the way grabbing Hayden as they left the donut shop. Logan was fuming so much he barely noticed Hayden was crying. "Hey hey buddy...it's okay. Grandpa is a sick man. We don't need him around us right now." Logan hugged Hayden as he got his crying to calm down. "Dad...can you maybe give grandpa another chance? Give him our phone number and tell him you'll give him a chance. Please dad??"
Logan paused a moment before replying "Fine. i can't promise you anything though" Logan took Hayden back and saw Thomas as he was leaving the donut shop. Logan caught up to him real quick. "Hey. I'm gonna give you my number. I won't promise anything, but gimme a call sometime and we'll go from there. I gotta go get ready for Scotland."
Thomas just smiles and nods, taking the number and walking down the street. Logan and Hayden would head home and pack for Scotland. "Thanks dad." Logan looks at his son and kisses the tp of his head. "Let's get ready. Our flight leaves tomorrow morning."
Vee wakes up suddenly from his bed with his eyes could still see the ambush he had received in at the hands of Logan at the Unscripted. His face is filled with sweat. He feels a tad shivers going down his spine. Seriously, he never liked losing or even getting beaten up.
He rolls to the side of the bed to reach his phone and gives a bell to the contact named Sara. It doesnt take much longer for him to receive some voice from the other end.I love you a soothing voice, he heard at the opposite end. Vee smiles so widely and he feels the breeze grazing over his forehead that condenses the sweat drops and gives him chills.I love you too hun.., He breathes out in the end and relaxes his back down in the bed. For the first time in the night, the bed seems real soft for him.
Sara is his copine, soul-mate, best friend, partner, companion and the love of his life. Shes a black belt, a Sensai in Karate and played a big role in developing and harnessing his wrestling skills. Its been ages since he called her owing to his busy schedule and touring with the WZCW albeit he never forgets to give her a bell time to time. She has moved to Sweden (her birth place) from England once Vee got recruited to the WZCW. From the day they fell in love, till this moment, their love has been growing roots deep through to the divinity.
Is there something wrong hun?she asked in a dozy voice, like she were with him there and looking through his eyes.I dont know, I just couldnt get any spotlight in this WZCW yet. It nags tad a bit, well a lot, I couldnt even sleep. Vee finishes off his feelings in one breath and closes his eyes; resting the phone over his ear. She giggles, just to make him smile, and breathes out before she could talk,I know about you hun, youre never invisible, are you? Ever been in your life, have you felt invisible? You always take the spotlight and dont you know Im a little jealous about it?Vee can picturize her smiling at the other end.Thank you hun, but Im off to Bedfordshire, you too try to get some sleep
With a beam on his face he says in a husky voice,I love you, Night hun, she gives that seducing giggle again with the replyI love you too hun, Sleep wellThey both havent disconnected the call yet. He feels her breath through the phone once again and finally decides to hang the call up. His head feels light; some pounds had been taken off his shoulders, hes focused and dozed out in no time.
Next morning, Vee finally decides to take a look at the WZCW schedule wondering where hes heading up next. A Very British Lottery Tour!! He was excited to go back to his home, for momentarily, he realizes the first stop is Glascow, Scotland. Being a British-Asian he was never welcomed in the United Kingdom, not even in his hometown, albeit being born and raised there completely as a perfect Brit. Even then he wasnt tormented to any of the racial abuses or bullying, he was never welcomed. Not to give more reason, people never liked guys with extraordinary smartness.
Glascow, the name reminds him of an incident that plagued his adolescent for ages. It was in the Summer when he turned just 11, he had to visit the Merchant City in Glascow as a part of the Industrial Interaction from his school.
Vee stood gobsmacked by the beauty of the industries, its machines and the mechanisms. Vee is always fancy of the machines and technologies right from the childhood. He hadnt travelled much or visited more places often till then and he was just admiring the beauty of the places; accidentally bumped onto a tall ginger headed lad. Watch your steps knobhead and that guy pushed Vee down to his knees. Sorry mate.. was the only blank apology from Vee as in his childhood he was more conserved to himself. Im not your bloody mate you tosser and he kicked the poor little Vee hard on his gut.
Suddenly, his teacher intervened and stopped from further more utter insult to the poor lad. Vee was sent back home almost immediately. When he started the school the next term, the news had spread like a wildfire amongst all the students and Vee started to get bullied wherever he went. Thats when he realized, to stop these people from looking down on him, he should grab the spotlight. Just when he was looking for an opportunity, he got one, just momentarily; but Vee didnt want to lose that opportunity. Stuart, his old rival, mocked Vee while they were training in the school ground. Aw Sorry Mate, next time Ill kick the right ball, after kicking a football right below Vees groin. Bugger off, MATE!Vee showed the middle finger right in the face of Stuart. He charged at Vee but only to get thrown down by a Judo Arm Drag. Vee kneels on his chest and pounds him hard with a flurry of stiff punches to break his nose and dislocate the jaw, only to get stopped by the fellow senior school students.
Thats the moment when Vee changed his attitude and realizes who he really is; hes the person who never gives a damn about the people who doesnt deserve. Love, Respect or even Hate shouldnt be given for the people who doesnt deserve.
It all flashes in the mirror along with the reflection of Strong and confident Vee. He just smiles at himself and checks his wrist and caresses his fingers across the tattoo which reads Sara. He put his glove on and walks into his training room.
Leon is shown, stoic, in near blackness. Creaking pipes and dripping water can be heard, and the only light bulb is far in the background. Leon is visibly shaken.
Leon: Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. I'm here, in the bowels of the arena, where I'm told there is a new superstar lurking somewhere in the darkness. I've knocked on every door. I've turned over every stone. I'm not sure who I'm looking for, but I'm here to do a job.
Leon mops the sweat from his brow, and puts his pocket square back in his jacket. He looks around nervously, before turning back to the cameraman.
Are you ready? Alright. Follow me.
Leon heads in the direction of the light, with the camera close behind. They are both looking left and right, stopping whenever there's a noise.
What the...What am I looking for? No one even knows what he looks like? Is it a he? What's his name?
Cameraman: I don't know. They just told me to grab my gear, and follow you. Are they even sure he's down here?
We'll check the rest of this corridor, and then head upstairs.
As Leon says that, loud banging can be heard in the distance. Startled, he turns towards the noise, and slowly creeps towards it...
Hel...Hello? Who is that?
The banging stops. A low, almost growling voice, replies. There's a sense of pure horror in the voice, but Leon stands fast.
Hello...?
There's a sound of metal contacting concrete, and then a sigh.
Is someone out there? My name's Leon. Leon Kensworth. I work for WZCW, and I was sent down here to get a few words from you. The rumor is you're here to take part in our Roulette Round. Is that right?
WZCW...Eh? Yes. I'm in the right place then.
Excuse me?
I've been searching for...Is it weeks? Months? When did I wake up? If I don't know...Who would? Do you?
Hey, man! I have no idea what you're talking about. I'm just here to do my job.
No one knows. That's what they all say. No one talks. But...you're talking.
The far off voice lets out what seems like a low chuckle. Leon is seen on camera nervously looking around.
Roulette, you say. Yes. Fitting. Round and round it goes, where it stops...No one knows. Story of my life, since I woke up in that...that...place.
Dare I ask, which "place"?
The institute. They said I signed myself in. Said I was sick. Not well. My only belongings were pocket change, and...This mask. Until I know who I am, no one will see my face. They will only see...the mask.
Leon mumbles to himself, barely audible.
Holy...This guy's insane...
INSANE! Ha ha ha ha ha...Insane, he says. They all say "insane". So dismissive. They don't know where I've been. I'm not sure I even know.
Leon stares blankly into the camera.
How the hell did he hear me? Where is he?
I hear...everything...Leon. Everything. I'll participate in your...Roulette Round. I'll play along, if that's what it takes. They will see the terror in my eyes. They will...know...my...pain.
There's seconds of deafening silence, that feels like minutes. You can barely tell Leon is breathing. Then the bulb, still in the distance, pops, drowning the area in blackness.
Another few seconds pass as the cameraman fumbles with his camera, searching for the light. With a click it pops on.
Leon slowly turns, and is face to face with the masked man he had been conversing with.
You've done your job...Leon. You got "a few words" from me. Do a job for me, will you?
Leon is eye level with the masked man, but is frozen in place, his mouth agape.
That's a good boy, Leon. Do this job for me. Take...a few more words. And pass them along to everyone you see...upstairs. Tell them...Tell them I am here. I'm out for blood. Until my identity...my past...my life...is known to me, they will know nothing but pain, and...they will know fear.
Pain. Fear. Got it. Do you have...Do you have a name?
Do I look like I have a name!?
Leon stammers, trying to find something to say. The masked man talks again, in an eerily calm tone, compared to his prior dialogue.
My apologies. My temper gets the best of me sometimes. Ever since I woke up in that bed, I haven't gotten any answers. None. I'll start getting them tonight. Bet on it.
The masked man turns and leaves, lumbering away. Leon and the cameraman both let out audible sighs. The masked man stops, with one last thing for Leon to bring back from the interview.
We'll cross paths again...Leon.
Leon and the cameraman start walking towards the stairs at a much faster pace than the one the masked man used.
The rain lashes to the ground in the dead of night. In the darkness, an unknown figure lurches painfully forward; letting out a grunt with every small step. The sodden ground does not make for an easy walk, however, the wet leaves making it a treacherous climb at best. But still, the figure lurches on. In the distance, a small outline can be seen as the figure continues his relentless match towards it. Tossing off a shirt and tie from around its neck, the figure continues until the shadowy outline of a small and lifeless shack can be ultimately made out, resting against the backdrop of the night and the surrounding trees. With one final grunt, the figure tosses itself towards the door with its remaining stamina. As the rusted hinges give way, the figure falls into the unwelcoming wood shack; revealing himself to the be the former World Champion John Constantine.
Constantine lies on the dry wood for what seems like an eternity, catching his breath and looking at the decaying wood that lines the roof. Finally, Constantine rolls over and begins to crawl towards the empty fireplace, his usually smart looking trousers torn at the knees and one of his shoes completely missing. Searching in his pockets for an unknown item, Constantine eventually finds what he is looking for and brings it close to his face. The lighter in his hand is small but as Constantine flicks it into life, his bloodied and battered features can be seen in all of their gnarly detail. Constantine grabs a piece of old paper from the nearby floor and sets it alight before tossing it into the empty fireplace. Finally, the room sparks into light, revealing the vast emptiness of the abandoned shack. There are no signs of life as Constantine gets to his bloody feet and falls onto the nearby bed.
The rain outside continues to pound on the ground as the wooden doors lies off of its hinges. Constantine finally closes his eyes and swallows his pain and listens to the pouring rain only metres away, couples with the crackling of the nearby fire. After a few moments, Constantine gives into the sleep...
* * *
When Constantine woke the next morning, the rain had stopped but the fresh smell of nature after a storm was the remaining evidence of the night that went before. In the fireplace, the fire that Constantine had set had long since burned out too. It was a new day.
Voice:I hope you're comfortable there, young man.
Constantine shoots backwards in the bed as the voice takes him totally by surprise. Turning his head sharply, Constantine picked out the source of the unknown voice in the corner of the shack; the tree-obscured sun not making its way into the hut, or onto the features of the man.
Constantine:Who the hell are you? What the hell are you doing here?
Constantine waits patiently for the answer to his question but the source of the gruff voice doesn't seem to be in any rush to indulge the former WZCW World Heavyweight Champion. Taking some matches from his pocket, the unknown man strikes one against the rough exterior of the box and lights a old, wooden pipe. Just like Constantine experienced a few hours ago, the light from the fire illuminated his features somewhat.
Voice: Me? Well, how do any of us get anywhere? I guess, since you're in my bed, I could be asking you the same thing?
Constantine looks horrified by the accusation from the old man, whose clothes and long beard; stained with yellow patches, gives the impression of a man who has lived life from unstable point to unstable point. Constantine slowly moves forward on the wooden bed, refusing to take his eyes from the shadowy figure in the corner of the room.
Constantine:Your bed? I don't think so. My father built this hut with his bare hands. Hell, some summers I would come out here and help him. Don't take me for a fool, old man. I am not senile, nor am I an idiot. You can't trick me for your own gain.
The old man continues to puff on his pipe as The Power Trip eventually gets to his wounded feet.
Voice: Perhaps.
Constantine:Perhaps? There is no question!
The old man smiles as he continues to puff on his pipe.
Voice:Perhaps you did build this with your father. Perhaps you feel as though you deserve to come here in peace and, even more so, you feel as though I don't deserve the fruits of your labour. And I guess, being a conventional sort of man that you undoubtedly are, that you feel it is unfair of me to take what is yours?
Constantine marches across the wooden floor, now feeling frustrates and confident enough to revoke his burning gaze from the mystery man in the corner. Truth be told, it had been such a long time since he had been here. I'm fact, since the death of his father, he had barely thought about anything the two of them had shared. His father was a hard man; the sort of man that made Constantine nervous with his sheer presence. And although their relationship ended amicably, Constantine had long since willingly forgot aspects of his child hood, not least this place. But in the throws of desperation, there was no other choice.
He couldn't go home, by any means. Go back to the place where he abandoned his fiancé and his new born daughter for the chance of wrestling glory? Not likely. And every friend that he had ever made in both politics and wrestling had fallen by the wayside; not least Ty Burna and Dorian Slaughter, whom he had the most fruitful and latest relationship. Ty and Dorian had made sure that Constantine knew that he was no longer part of their plans by destroying him prior to his one and only WZCW Heavyweight Championship defence at Gold Rush the previous night. And the injuries of the night before were still a very frank reminder of that fact.
Constantine:I don't have time for your games, old man. Nor do I have time to explain the law to you. This is my property and, at the end of the day, you are trespassing. I suggest you take your leave before-
Voice:Before what?!
The sudden rise in volume and tone of the old man stuns Constantine; who once again spins his head towards where the old man had been sitting. But now, he stands tall, eyeing the former World Champion with a grizzled look of determination and anger. Constantine stumbles backwards at the sheer size of the man who towers above even him.
Voice:Mr. Constantine, I have been watching you for a very long time. I have been here for longer than you could possibly imagine. And whilst you claim to have built this building that we stand in today, I lay claim to it now.
Constantine steadies himself before meandering back towards the wooden bed that he came from only moments ago. He would never admit to the mystery man, or to anyone else for that matter, that he has been frightened in that moment. But his body language betrayed him. How did he know the name of Constantine? Did The Power Trip actually hear his name? Everything had been so shaky recently, he might have been mistaken. Still, Constantine remained quiet.
Voice:What we claim as ours in life can be cruelly snatched away from us without a moments notice. You, John, should know that better than anyone.
Constantine turns back towards the source of the voice.
Constantine: H-how do...
Ignoring the gasping plea of Constantine, the voice rumbles on; getting louder and louder as it does.
Voice: Robbed of everything you have worked for at Gold Rush by two of the most rotten men on the face of this planet. Their deeds do not go unpunished, John. Their time, along with the others, will come. Trust in that revelation, Mr. Constantine. You have been selected...
Constantine turns on his heels, turning away from the old man as his fear begins to overwhelm him. As the voice continues, it reaches a crashing crescendo.
Voice:You have been chosen. You will become a angel of death. I will tell you how! Your path is clear!
Facing his fear and feeling an uprising of adrenaline course through his body and towards his mouth, Constantine turns again; confronting his demons.
Constantine: What is this!?
But there is no one there.
The man who stood before the Power Trip is now gone. The voice that had seemingly shook the building in which both of them stood is now ringing in the ears of Constantine. And upon the seat where the older man had sat only seconds ago, nothing but a burlap sack remains. Then comes a whisper.
Constantine had finally did what so many before him failed to do, he followed up on his promise to rid the wrestling world of Ty Burna. Perhaps that was why Leon Kensworth was so hesitant to meet him after his long awaited return to action at WZCW Unscripted. Constantine was always a man who you didn't want to mince words with. But behind the almost typical bark of Constantine's words now, however, a very real threat of a bite was lurking. Leon had been shoulder to shoulder with the Power Trip on numerous occasions. But, as if it were not obvious, Constantine was no longer the man he used to be. The exuberant and arrogant smirk that once defined him was gone, replaced instead by a gaunt frailty underlined by malicious intent. His eyes were tired and the sharp suit that had almost become his trademark in all of his WZCW years was replaced by scruffy jeans a leather jacket. It was almost jarring.
And although Leon reminded himself of the way the former World Heavyweight Champion used to be, his self assurance had been rumbled and fear began to set in.
Leon: For once, could it not have been Klamour? I mean, when was the last time that that guy even did any work around here anyway? I mean, I seen Mikey Stormrage wrestle a panda only a few days ago and yet old Johnny gets the night off yet again... I swear, I'm raising a formal complaint.
As Leon turns the corner, still shaking his head in refusal and anger, his worst fear are perhaps realized; the former World Champion stands before him. But the new picture of John Constantine is not the man who greets the seasoned WZCW journalist. The burlap sack that had so recently become synonymous with The Power Trip was nowhere to be seen and Leon would be forgiven for thinking that Constantine was almost pleased to see him; a feint smile appearing in the corner of Constantine's mouth.
Constantine: Mr. Kensworth...
Leon looks into the tired eyes of the Power Trip for a moment, stunned with what he is seeing. Truth be told, Leon hadn't fully prepared himself for the meeting psychologically. Fumbling through his pockets now, Leon searches for his Dictaphone but Constantine puts hand on his shoulder reassuringly.
Constantine:Do you fear me, Leon?
Leon swallows hard as the lump in his throat grows in the face of fear. Ultimately stopping his search for the recording device, Leon let's out a deep sigh and drops his arms to his side with exasperation. He looks down for a moment, refusing to meet the gaze of the former World Champion.
Leon: Should I?
Leon continues to look down at the ground as Constantine drops his hand from the shoulder of the interviewer with a solemn sadness.
Constantine:Tell me Leon, have you ever wronged me in any way? For years, we have shared this company and have been loyal servants to the cause, have we not?
Leon finally looks up at Constantine before giving him a hesitant nod of approval.
Constantine:Fear, Leon, is all about retribution above all. Fear can be a crippling wasteland for those who are haunted by it. Look at Ty Burna for all the proof you need of that. The man who robbed me of the opportunity to defend my World Championship was fearful of the retribution that he knew would arrive. He constantly looked over his own shoulder, realizing that for his actions, he would have to pay recompense. And in the end, his fear overtook him; it immobilized him against me. His fear ultimately made him weak...
Constantine let's his words trail off into nothing as he considers the implications of what he managed at Unscripted.
Constantine: Fear is everywhere in this company, Leon. Here we are, on the eve of a card in which anything can happen and I can already smell the fear radiating around the locker room. For rookies, this is an opportunity more than anything. A chance to get in the ring with anyone from prince to pauper. But they fear the draw, Leon. Just like you feared coming here and meeting me, they fear what they cannot control.
The former World Champion offers a stoic look towards Leon who looks embarrassed by his fear.
Constantine: But fear can also be a motivator. Those who are truly destined for greatness embrace their fears and use them to spur themselves forward... Something which Dorian Slaughter will come to realise. He has not paid his recompense for what he did to me at Gold Rush and has capitalized on it of anything. The rapturous delight of finally becoming World Champion clouds his fear but I can still sense it. Dorian will come to realize that every horrible eventuality that could have befallen me, already has. What do I have to fear? But he has so much to lose.
Constantine straightens up Leon and fixes his tie and he looks him up and down one final time.
Constantine:I do not fear the Roulette rounds, nor do I fear the World Champion. I have seen his fear buried deep. His fear motivates me more than anything else. I pray that Dorian is paired with me at Meltdown or Ascension. I will do to him what I did to Ty Burna and he will face his fear; he will pay his recompense to me and to the world!
The Power Trip loses himself in his familiar trademark style of delivery but quickly recomposes himself once more; stopping himself suddenly and allowing the colour to drop from his cheeks.
Constantine:Now, run along Leon. The smell of fear on you is nauseating.
Leon quickly moves away from Constantine and heads back along the corridor that he came from only moments ago. Turning back briefly to see the former World Champion, Leon sees him produce the burlap sack from his pocket and look at it longingly. The light begin to flicker and as they illuminate the corridor once more, Constantine is gone...
Leon Kensworth is standing in front of his car in front of LAX. Music is playing from the inside the car but it's so low he can barely hear it. It's a very hot summer day and of course Leon wanting to look his best is wearing his suit.
An airplane starts to descend from the sky and Leon smiles as he knows who is on that plane. He gets in his car and shuts it off and walks toward the building, to await for whom is on the plane.
After about twenty minutes or so of waiting, Leon finally sees who asked him to pick them up from the Airport, Armando Paradyse. Armando hasn't changed a bit, besides he has his long, luscious hair back and is now sporting a small beard.
The two shake hands and smile as they greet. It has been almost two years since they have seen each other, almost two years since Armando has been inside of a ring, and almost two years since Armando won and lost his only Championship inside WZCW.
One month prior
"Oh Armadnooooooo"Mama Paradyse called out to her baby boy.
Armando hears his Mama call him and he runs up from he basement, Mayhem Championship around his waste.
Mijo, Put that plastic toy down and take out the trash."
"Mama, I am the Mayhem Champion, one I return to WZCW, I will be defending it almost every week. And this time I won't let Justin Cooper steal this precious peace of gold from me." He says taking the replica Mayhem Title from his waste and holding it up to show his mama who the champ is.
"Whatever son, just take out the trash"
Armando does what his Mama says and when he returns his Mama is doing the dishes. He sits at the table inside the kitchen and appears to be troubled.
"Mama?"He asks softly causing her to stop what she is doing and look at him."Did you know my birth Mama?"
She takes a deep breath and sits down next to him.
"Armando." She pauses to try to hold back her tears. "You're birth Mother is in Mexico. Her name is Nina, sadly I don't have her last name but I'm sure you can look for her and find her."
She stands up and walks back to the sink and tries to finish the dishes before she starts crying. Armando stands up and goes to his Mama and hugs her.
"You are my Mama, Mama. Forever."
Present Day
Armando and Leon are now at a local hotel, nothing to fancy but perfect for them before driving the long flight to Glasgow, Scotland. They are relaxing and laughing, having a cheerful time, talking about memory's from Armando's Days in WZCW. There wasn't much to talk about, but they talked about.
"Armando, we need to do an interview for old time sakes."Leon tells him as he pulls out a small pocket recorder.
"Becky Serra usually interviews me though."
"Armando, have you kept up with WZCW? Rebecca is now the General Manager of Ascension"
The look on Armando's face goes cold. His former crush is now his boss, there goes any chance of them ever getting together.
"Armando, I will fill you in on what happened later, but I really want to interview you."
Armando is devastated that he has missed so much in the past two years but shrugs it off.
"Sure, Leon. Let's begin."
Armando goes over and grabs two glasses and pours him and Leon a drink of Grey goose Vodka, and he returns to the table. Leon presses a button on the recorder to make it start recording the conversation
"Thanks. Ready for the first question? You are returning at what are known in WZCW as the Roulette Rounds, Meltdown Madness and Ascension Anarchy, two of WZCW craziest shows. It was actually at this show two years ago you actually lost the now defunct Mayhem Championship. Do you think you will have any ring rust?"
"Of course there is ring rust, I haven't competed in two years. My last match I lost against Jack Skinner. Jack freaking Skinner, Leon! That's like losing against...Darren Bull! I have had ring rust even before I left, ever since....the last...Roulette show I competed at, Mayhem Title on Pole match. I lost to Justin Cooper. I lost my Mayhem Title to Justin Cooper of all people. And that's when I decided I needed a break. But I am back now, and no one is going to stand in my way of my goal. Not Titus, Not Everest, and for sure not my old rivals Justin or Alex Bowen"
Leon's head turns sideways as he is confused.
"Armando, all of those people you just mention are no longer wrestling in WZCW."
Armando's face is shocked, then he stands up and jumps around for joy. Leon cracks a smile as he has no idea what Armando is so happy about but he is glad to see his friend happy. Last time they met, Armando was so upset and pissed off at Sean Cruz and Alex Bowen.
"I finally have a chance to win now Leon! With all the good people gone, I can win a match!"
"Armando, there is other people to worry about, like our World Champion, Dorian Slaughter.
Armando shakes his head and walks over to his suite case and pulls out his replica belt from inside it. Leon looks as if Armando has gone crazy.
"Leon, this is the reason I came back."He points to his Mayhem Title."I am going to bring back the Mayhem Division. Dorian may be the World Champion, but I am the King of Mayhem. I dethroned a King to win this title. I am Mayhem!"
Leon shakes his head, as he thinks his friend is crazy.
"Next question, Who would you like to face in what match at either Meltdown Madness or Ascension Anarchy?
Armando drapes the replica Mayhem belt over his shoulder and sits back down.
"Well, I watch Unscripted live the other day. I want to face either Chris K.O or James Howard, and hopefully I win the their championship. I will then retire that belt and bring back the most prestigious title in WZCW, The Mayhem Championship! You live by Mayhem, you die by Mayhem, Leon. "
Leon chuckles a bit at the last statement, while adjusting to a new position to get more comfortable.
"Armando, you were looked and laughed at for as long as you were here and even more at while you were gone, how does that make you feel?"
"Leon, I consider you a friend, but is that a real question? It pisses me off. I am Armando Paradyse. I have defeated men like Steven Holmes and Steven Kurtesy. I have defeated Alex Bowen! I have proven that I can win matches if I set my mind to it, I am on of the best in the WZCW!"
Armando gets a notification from his phone and he pulls it from his pocket. He reads the text message silently in his head.
Hey cutie ill be there in a few minutes. You are in the super 8 right?
Armando smiles as an old friend of his, Becky, is almost to his hotel. He looks at Leon and pretty much shoves him out the door. In a hurry, he places his Mayhem title on the table in the hotel and he quickly gets ready and puts a his favorite cologne on, Black. Spray it and they will come. He passes himself in the mirror and stops and gazes at himself.
Laughing stock? Ha, I am Armando Paradyse. I am the real King of Mayhem. I will show all these peasants who the fuck they are messing with. Whoever the hell my opponent is better watch out. I'm back. And I am better than ever.
A knock on the door interrupts his thoughts, he begins to leave out the door but suddenly stopped and turns back inside and grabs his Mayhem title from the table. He secures it around his waste and he heads out with his date.
We're back stage. Leon Kensworth is waiting to talk to Garth Black.
Leon: Please welcome my guest at this time, Garth Black.
Garth, there has been a spate of wrestlers returning to the fore in WZCW recently, why do you think this is?
Garth: Ultimately Leon it's down to the fact that many of us leave here with unfinished business, this is the pinnacle of the sport we love and as long as there are unwritten chapters here, this is where we will all want to be.
Black takes the microphone out of Leon's hands and starts to stare intently down the lens.
Garth: Speaking of unfinished business, I would like to take this chance to address Johnny Scum denying me my opportunity at Unscripted. It's just another in a long line of opportunities I have had taken from me. Rest assured, the next time I see you, I'm gonna knock you out, but I guess I ought to be grateful because whilst you were beating me, I guess you knocked some sense into me. I started to think about where I came from and my roots, and I'd like to take this opportunity to return there:
See people keep on asking me what I was before?
Was I just an also-ran or was I something more?
It’s all a bit indicative of wrestling fans today
To consume all that in front of them and throw the past away.
I was just a wrestler, a boy in the back
I wrestled and I won and I fended off attacks
I climbed the highest ladder, and won the tag team prize
But Phoenix was a traitor, you could see it in his eyes.
Even though when we fought, i came out on top,
But that not enough for me to miss the dreaded chop.
I wandered in the wilderness for nearly 7 years
And turned to pipes and girls and warm stale sticky, beers.
But none of that could comfort me as I turned on TV
And saw the latest champion and thought ‘that should be me’
The thing that held me back, the thing that stopped my rise
I keep to myself backstage, and don’t schmooze the guys
So while esteemed contemporaries picked low hanging fruit
I was being messed about in a chicken suit
But yet I kept turning up, kept trying to succeed
But for every flower picked, there grew another weed
I tried to get myself noticed with pure poetry
But it was more Limerick than Homer’s odyssey -
I was a virtuoso of verse before old Dr. Zeus,
But where he got a brass ring, I just got a noose.
I could be Keats on a roll about the summer
Or Stone Cold Jane Auste, Stunner! Stunner!
I could even go to Tudor Stratford and learn from the bard
But absolutely nothing would release me from the mid card
I was here before Stormrage, I was here before Ty
I was here before Ascension, and Bob the backstage guy
See I’m the definition of a company man,
I swallow more kook-aid than the most die hard fan
See, long before Matt Tastic, there was ol' Garth Black
They call me Mr. Elastic, cos’ I keep bouncing back.
So at the roulette table, put your money all on red,
Because every time they should back black, there’s someone else instead.
He drops the mic and leaves. The camera pans to a flustered Leon who picks up the microphone and turns to camera.
Backstage interviewer, Leon Kensworth, is in his place of comfort, backstage, with his loyal camera crew following him as they set up for an interview for one of the newcomers to the WZCW world, Kendrick Xavier. We see Xavier standing tall, his arms folded, and staring off in the distance as the hustle and bustle of the crew doesnt seem to bother him. Kensworth can be seen giving instructions and tips on how to loosen up and how to not be afraid of speaking into the camera.
Leon Kensworth:Ok, Kendrick right? I know this is your first interview in the WZCW company and I know that you want to make a good impression on the fans so, the key is to not be so wound up and tight.
Kendrick Xavier:
Leon Kensworth:You know what I mean? Help me help you. The more you can say on camera, the better I can help lead you where you want to go in terms of getting your message across to whoever you need to get that message to.
Kendrick remains still and emotionless as Leon rambles on, either not noticing or not caring whether or not his subject for his next segment actually comprehends the words coming from his mouth. The crew has now finished up their preparations and count down Kensworth to start the interview.
Leon Kensworth:Hello and welcome WZCW fans! My guess for this evening will be taking part in his first ever match inside of a WZCW ring while on this United Kingdom tour, please welcome the one they call the X-Man Kendrick Xavier!
The camera pans back to reveal to the audience the still motionless Xavier who is still staring off in his own zone.
Leon Kensworth:Now Kendrick, with this round being the infamous Roulette Round, where anyone could be going toe to toe against anybody, what are your thoughts and what have been some of your preparations as you get ready to expect the unexpected?
Leon holds the mic to Xaviers face but the man remains stoic and silent. Kensworth chuckles lightly as his professionalism has taught him to just keep going with the interview to try and help him save face.
Leon Kensworth:Is there anyone in particular that you would like to face in the very near future?
Kendrick Xavier:
Looking slightly frustrated, Leon shakes his head, returns the mic to his original position, and looks like he is ready to call the interview.
Leon Kensworth:Well ladies and gentlemen, it looks like Xavier is a man of few words and that youll have to wait to see what he does at---
???:HOLD UP WAIT A MINUTE! I KNOW IM LATE GIVE ME A MINUTE
Appearing out of the blue is another Kendrick Xavier. The two Xaviers were mirror images of each other from the wardrobe down to the exact same skin features. This newer Xavier, however, popped up riding on one of those futuristic Hovertrax. The new Xavier steps off his mobile vehicle and smiles at Kensworth and the crew, shaking hands with everyone before standing on the other side of Leon.
Newer Kendrick Xavier:Sorry about that sir. Had a little trouble finding the backstage interviewing area. Did you know that as big as Celtic Park is, they dont have any types of apps that can allow you to find out where youre going? I love Glasgow but goodness gracious, the event staff or whoever is in charge needs to get with the times.
Leon looks confused as he continually turns his attention from the Kendrick he was just interviewing, to the newer Kendrick who seems like seeing his own doppelganger was nothing new to him. He brings his face back to the microphone and turns to the newer version of Xavier.
Leon Kensworth:Youre Kendrick Xavier?
Newer Kendrick Xavier:Of course Mr. Kensworth. Who else could I be?
Leon Kensworth: (Slowly turning back to the older Xavier)But then, who is
Before Kensworth can finish his question, the other Kendrick slowly moves out of his motionless state of mind and looks back at him. He smiles at Leon and gives him a wink before his image slowly starts to disintegrate before him and the rest of the camera crew. Leon stands dumbfounded as the hologram that was the Xavier he had tried to get a word out of is no longer there. The real Kendrick walks up to Leon and places a hand on his shoulder, smiling and laughing as one of his creations was executed to perfection.
Kendrick Xavier:I needed a stand in while I was running late. Didnt want to make a bad first impression with you guys since you all here at WZCW were so gracious enough to give me a chance to live out my dream. Lifelike wasnt he?
Kensworth never set his eyes on the actual Xavier, just slowly nodded his head.
Kendrick Xavier:Man you should see your face right now. How bout this my good interviewer, I take this microphone here, Ill take care of the talking and you can enjoy a nice day off. I know youve been a busy busy bee these last couple of days and it would be my pleasure to help you out a little bit.
Leon tightens his grip on his microphone and doesnt let go as Kendrick reaches across for it. He gives Xavier a slight look of disgust, the newer rookie making a professional reporter and interviewer the butt of a prank, before putting on a fake smile for the camera and heading off the screen leaving Kendrick by himself with the crew and his arms up as if to say Aww come on! It was only a joke! Nevertheless, Kendrick turns his attention to the cameraman and asks if theyre still good to go. The cameraman gives a thumbs up and Xavier closes his eyes and takes a deep breath to regain his composure.
Kendrick Xavier:Hello and welcome Zeroes and Ones, in case Mr. Kensworth over there didnt mention, my name is Kendrick Xavier and I am one of the newest signees blessed enough to make it into WZCW. One of the things you all will come to know about me is that I like to have fun when I wrestle. Nowadays, I feel that theres too many tightwads in wrestling that only care about being the biggest, the strongest, and the meanest.
Kendrick mimics a caveman in the jungle trying to show off how many muscles he had to impress cave women.
Kendrick Xavier:Its time to embrace the wrestler of the future. A wrestler that can showcase showmanship while being up on the modern tech. A wrestler that doesnt have to have a mean streak or be the strongest to be the best. Theres been this saying that Ive come to live off of these last few years and its this: Its not the strongest who survive, its the smartest.
He pulls out a PDA device and dials in some numbers that cause a wave of holographic charts to pop up, each one seemingly looking like a profile on various wrestlers in the company.
Kendrick Xavier:Analytics, my good humanoids. THAT is the key to becoming the wrestler of the future. Not only does the good technological work my family and I do in the great Silicon Valley benefit the good people of this planet but, it helps bring forth the new wave of wrestling. All I ask is that you people give me the chance to prove myself in that squared circle and I promise I will not let you down.
He smiles in the camera as his thumb whirls around his PDA and sticks up in the air as if he has one more button to hit.
Kendrick Xavier:And as far as Glasgow, Scotland is concerned
His thumb presses down on the PDA one final time and from out of nowhere, holographic pyro begins to fall behind Xavier, giving off the illusion that the background behind Kendrick was nothing but fireworks.
Kendrick Xavier:Prepare to be amazed and entertained by the great and amazing Kendrick The X-Man Xavier
The scene fades to black as Kendrick gives the people watching on camera a thumbs up while giving out his best presidential laugh.
'Crocodile' Bruce Irwin is sat talking to Captain Love.
Bruce:I think I can.
Bruce hangs his head in shame almost.
Bruce:At least this one wasn't my fault.
Love sighs.
Love:You're right. The kid is only five, I know how upset you were. He'll pull through.
Bruce:That's easier said than done.
The camera cuts to Captain Harrison Love who, rather than his usual stern sense, has the body language of a brother comforting someone.
Bruce:I can see where you're coming from. I mean, I did promise him I'd push for the best.
Love remains silent, allowing Irwin to rant.
Bruce:Tasting victory for me is so rare. Surely I can use this to motivate me.
Love nods.
Bruce:Unless things get worse. Surely that can't happen, I can't even imagine how things would be...
Bruce gets a text. He smiles.
Bruce:STREUTH!
Love:What?
Bruce:He's got the all clear.
Love:Brilliant news. Shall we go and celebrate?
Bruce:Crikey yes.
Love:I pick the bar this time. Remember when we were in Havana?
Scene cuts to a bar full of stereotypical latinos with Bruce Irwin towering above all
Bruce:Do you guys sell Fosters?
Barman:Bucanero!
Bruce:Great, I'll try that.
Love:I'm not drinking some pansy commie drink. Y'all got Budweiser?
Bruce looks at Love. Shakes his head and sighs. He knows what's coming next.
A group of Cubans rush towards Love and Irwin. Irwin fighting all four men off with ease. He grabs Love by the collar and carries him out of the bar.
The scene cuts back to the two men sat down.
Bruce:Was that really worth it mate?
Love:Ha! Or that on in Moscow?
Scene cuts to a bar full of stereotypical Russians with Bruce Irwin shivering.
Bruce:Do you guys sell Fosters?
Barman:Vodka!
Bruce:Great, I'll try that.
Love:I'm not drinking some pansy commie drink. Y'all got Budweiser?
Bruce looks at Love. Shakes his head and sighs. He knows what's coming next.
Bruce:Was that really worth it mate?
The scene cuts back before the Russian bar fight scene.
Love:I guess the international public aren't that big a fan of America! I guess I'll behave for the roulette!
Bruce:Ha mate, it's in Glasgow!
Love looks rather perplexed.
Love:So?
Bruce:So? You'll be hailed a hero! The Scottish love the Americans because they both hate the English. Aussies hate the English, Scots hate the English and it's 4th July weekend so why not have Americans hating too. It should be fun!
Love:You going to win though?
Bruce:Course I am, it's at Celtic Park. Not Ibrox!
Scene opens to futuristic room. A control panel surrounded by many advanced gadgets can be seen. The door to the room opens. In walks Kaleesta "The Healer" followed by former Global Champion Theron Daggershield and his girlfriend Kirilah the Paladin of Mystra. Kaleesta stands at the control panel and turns around to face Theron. Kirilah is behind Theron looking around with her eyes wide open.
Kaleesta: Are you sure you want to make this journey, Theron?
Theron: Of course! Can your prayer chamber take us to the creature responsible for the randomly generated matches coming on the next editions of Burnup and Elevation this week?
Kaleesta: You should know better by now than to doubt the prayer chamber. It can take us anywhere in time and space, even to a creature as bizarre as the one who planned out your next gladiator show.
Kirilah is walking around staring at the gadgets. She has a puzzled look on her face.
Kaleesta: Kirilah, is something wrong?
The Paladin slowly turns her head to face Kaleesta.
Kirilah: This room.... how is it.... This thing was smaller on the outside!
Kaleesta: Wow, never heard that variation before. I get "It is bigger on the inside" all the time, but that was a new reaction. Are you both ready to take off?
Theron nods his head in approval as Kirilah walks over to him and holds his hand. Kaleesta presses a button on the control panel. Scene fades out as a whirring sound is heard.
====
Scene fades back in to a view a gigantic purple tent in a vast field of grass. It is late at night, almost midnight, but a bright full moon in the evening sky is providing light. Kaleesta's blue prayer chamber can be seen a few feet away from the tent. Camera angle zooms in on the prayer chamber. The door opens as Theron and the two girls go outside only to see none other than Dr "ART" Anderson who walks onscreen from the left wearing a green plaid shirt, blue jeans, black boots, and black cowboy hat.
ART: Hello! Cameo appearances are a form of ART!
The strange 450 pound professor walks offscreen again.
Theron: If Dr Anderson is here, then this can't be safe. Where is this place?
Kaleesta: I cannot tell you the exact location of where this is, it would risk us ripping the very fabric of time and space. The one who has decided the chaotic structure of your next gladiatorial battle is in that tent there. He is a Chaos Mage.
The Warblade's facial expression changes to one of concern.
Theron: Wait, a Chaos Mage!? You have GOT to be kidding!
Kirilah: What is a Chaos Mage?
Theron: Exactly what it sounds like. A dangerous type of Wizard who specializes in random chance. Chaos Mages are the embodiment of randomness and the unpredictable. You literally will NEVER know what to expect when you deal with one.
Kaleesta: Do be careful when you go inside. Chaos Mages are a very strange lot. He has agreed to answer your questions, but beware his chaotic nature. Chaos Mages often play mind games with those who seek their assistance.... This one in particular also has a tendency to to.... rename gladiators very strange names....
Theron: What do you mean he renamed gladiators strange names?
Kaleesta: You'll find out.
Theron: Alright.... here goes.
He goes inside the purple tent. Scene fades out.
====
Scene fades in to a chamber that has purple walls decorated with stars and other celestial images. Theron walks up to the square table in the middle of the room, which has a crystal ball on it and four chairs, one at each side of the table. He looks around and does not see anyone else in the room. A Chaos Mage with a long red beard wearing a purple robe walks out from behind the curtain covering a door shaped hole in the wall in front of Theron. The Chaos Mage's face cannot be seen due to the hood he has over his head, but his long red beard is sticking out. Silly music begins playing in the background and plays through the following scene.
[YOUTUBE]jXKJmHuJevI[/YOUTUBE]
Theron: Are you the guy who determined the matches for the next set of gladiatorial events?
????: Yep. That was me! The Chaos Mage, Racecar!
Theron: Your name is Racecar....?
Racecar: It is. My parents wanted all of us to have names that were palindromes. My twin brother Kayak and my sister Civic are also named after palindromes. Even our parents had palindrome names! Care to guess what my parents' names were?
Theron: *sighs* Hannah and Bob?
Racecar: Nope! Mom and Dad!
The Warblade facepalms as the Chaos Mage sits down in one of the chairs at the table.
Theron: Alright then.... So, my healer Kaleesta told me that you were willing to answer some questions. Would it be possible to find out the matches you came up with for the show?
Racecar: I will reveal to you one gladiator from each match, but only one per match.... and not the match stipulations. Is that fine with you?
The Warblade takes a seat in the chair across from Racecar the Chaos Mage.
Theron: Sure. Let's keep it simple and do this one match at a time. Which gladiator is fighting in the first match on Burnup?
Racecar: Who.
Theron: The guy fighting first at Burnup.
Racecar: Who.
Theron: The guy you put in the first Burnup match.
Racecar: Who is fighting first.
Theron gets up out of his chair in frustration.
Theron: Why are you asking me? I have no idea!
Racecar: He's in the second match. We aren't talking about him. Who's fighting first.
The former Global Champion raises his right eyebrow for a moment, visibly confused.
Theron: I didn't ask you who's in the second match.
Racecar: Who is in the first match.
Theron groans and sits back down again.
Theron: I asked YOU who's fighting first. Then you asked ME, and then we ended up on the second match. So, fine. Let's talk about the second match instead. What gladiator will be working the second match on Burnup?
Racecar: I Have No Idea.
Theron: What do you mean you don't know!? Who is fighting second?
Racecar: No, no. Pay attention, young one. Who is fighting first.
Irritated, Theron makes fists with both of his hands.
Theron: I did pay attention! Ok, let's go back to the first match again. Who is fighting in it?
Racecar: Yes.
Theron: So the first match will feature the debut of a rookie named "Yes"?
Racecar: No. Yes isn't in that match. Yes won't even be appearing at this event.
Theron: Then who is the guy you put in the first Burnup match?
Racecar: Yes.
The Warblade gets up out of the chair again, still having his fists clenched.
Theron: You're contradicting yourself. You just said Yes isn't even going to be at this event.
Racecar: Nope, he's not.
Theron crosses his arms and continues to stand, visibly irate. The Chaos Mage laughs to himself.
Theron: Fine, let's move on to Elevation since you clearly won't tell me the names of the gladiators on Burnup. Did you make matches for Elevation too?
Racecar: This event would not be as successful if there were only one show. There is indeed an Elevation show.
Theron: Tell me the name of one gladiator fighting at Elevation.
Racecar: How.
Theron: Ummm, doesn't matter to me as long as you answer the question. Give me the name of one gladiator that will be fighting at Elevation in the second match.
Racecar: How.
Theron: It doesn't MATTER! You could hop on one foot and wave your hands up and down if you want, I just want an answer to my question. WHO is fighting in the SECOND match at ELEVATION!?
Racecar: No, why would you change my shows by putting Who on Elevation if he's already on Burnup?
Theron facepalms, and then stands at a normal posture. He takes a moment to take a couple of deep breaths to calm down before speaking again. The Chaos Mage laughs to himself again.
Theron: Forget about Burnup right now. I'm trying to be specific. Can you please just tell me who's fighting first on Elevation?
Racecar: Who's fighting first on Burnup.
Theron: I HAVE NO IDEA!
Racecar: He's fighting in the second Burnup match. You've got some serious attention problems.
Infuriated, Theron kicks over the chair to the right of the chair he was sitting in earlier.
Theron: Let's try this a different way. You booked a main event for Burnup, I assume? Tell me the gladiator that is main eventing the show.
Racecar: When.
Theron: Sometime today would be nice. All I'm asking is one simple question. Who's main eventing Burnup!?
Racecar: No listen here, Who is not main eventing Burnup! Who is-
The Chaos Mage is immediately cut off mid-senctence by Theron who takes out his Falchion, pointing it at Racecar.
Theron: Don't make me unleash a Critical Hit on you, Chaos Mage! I'll Holy Smite you if the next words out of your mouth are "who's fighting first"!
Racecar: There's that fearlessness I heard about the great Theron Daggershield. You'll do fantastic in your match this week I am sure of it.
Despite the compliment, Theron is still agitated. He stops pointing his weapon at the Chaos Mage, but keeps holding onto it as he speaks.
Theron: You know, I was Global Champion up until a few days ago at Uncalled For where I had the excellent match with Clovis the Stunning Fist. If I wanted to steal the show yet again, I'd want to be in a good spot on the event. So if I'm going to set the pace for the night by competing in the first match, I'd want to go out there on Burnup and work a brilliant match with WHO!?
Racecar: Yes.
Theron: You're contradicting yourself again. Are we or are we not going to see the debut of a rookie named "Yes" in the first match on Burnup?
Racecar: Young warrior, I have told you countless times already, the first match's featured gladiator is Who.
Several seconds of silence pass. Theron stares at Racecar in anger. He sheathes his Falchion and sits down in the chair again.
Theron: Let me approach this differently. Is there a Burnup show this week?
Racecar: Certainly.
Theron: Did you come up with the matches for that show?
Racecar: Certainly.
Theron: Ok. Then who is the guy fighting first on Burnup?
Racecar: Yes. He is working every second from start to finish of that match.
Theron: Wait, one more time. Who is fighting in the first Burnup match?
Racecar: Yes. The first match is being fought by Who.
Theron: Yes....?
Racecar: Yes.
Theron: Alright. Glad that got resolved. So "Yes" is fighting first.
Racecar: No, Who is.
Theron: What are you asking ME for!? Stop being so confusing!!!!
He gets up again and kicks over the chair that was to his left.
Racecar: I hope you bring that same anger into your match, young hero. The fans will love it!
Theron: Whatever, Kaleesta was right, you're just as unpredictable as she said. You know what? I don't care anymore! You hear me!? I DON'T CARE ANYMORE!!!!
Racecar: Ah, so you knew all along, Theron! I Don't Care Anymore! THAT is the guy YOU are fighting this week!
The Warblade screams in frustration. He picks up the chair he had been sitting in and throws it across the room onto the wall, breaking the chair. Theron storms out of the tent as the Chaos Mage, who has not moved from his own chair this entire time, laughs maniacally as the song stops playing and the scene fades out.
====
Scene fades back in to Kaleesta and Kirilah who are still standing by the prayer chamber. Theron walks out of the tent, visibly furious.
Kaleesta: Did you find the information you needed?
Theron: No! That idiot kept asking me the same questions I asked him. As if losing my Global Championship wasn't bad enough. Kaleesta, get us out of here with your prayer chamber. I want to be as far away from.... wherever this is.... as possible.
Kaleesta: I tried to warn you. Chaos Mages are unpredictable, that is why he was hired to come up with a show as random as this next one you got asked to compete at. With them all you ever get is a big ball of wibbily wobbly timey wimey.... chaotic stuff.
Theron: All this did was anger me and make me feel worse than I already did. I haven't gotten over losing my Global Championship yet. I just wish there was something I could have done differently in order to retain my belt....
Kaleesta: You losing your Global Championship was a fixed point in time. Nothing could have altered that course of reality. There is another fixed point in time approaching for you though, one of victory.
A few seconds pass, then Kaleesta smiles and opens the door to her prayer chamber. She goes inside. Theron and Kirilah are alone.
Kirilah: Mystra gave me a word for you while you were in the tent. She said to tell you .... "Change is coming. Good changes. Better opportunities. Win once more and then become a real hero at the Risky Raffle"
Theron: Yeah, you're right. This match, no matter who I'm facing, is my chance to show everyone that I'm truly the hero that the fans need. That what happened at Uncalled For was simply a case of Clovis rolling a Natural 20 when I had rolled a 19. I won't let anyone sneak in a victory like that again. Let's go, Kirilah! I've got a match to go win!
Kirilah hugs Theron and kisses him. The two walk into the prayer chamber holding hands. The prayer chamber makes a whirring noise and the scene briefly fades out to black, it then fades back in to a view of the same field. The prayer chamber can no longer be seen, but the tent is still in view. Racecar the Chaos Mage can be seen peeking his head out from the entrance of the tent.
Racecar: Don't think I've forgotten Theron about what happened when we last met! I was that guy trolling you in the crowd at the Snow Glider video game contest one year ago! This is what you get for not being funny and taking my suggestion of hitting all the Beavers when you set out to get the high score in Snow Glider last year! I have something VERY random in store for your match!
The Chaos Mage laughs maniacally as the scene fades to black.
The night sky is truly a beautiful thing when the only sight are the stars, and the moon shining light down upon the Earth. It provides a certain sense of tranquility. But the sky was masked by clouds, and erupted with bullets whizzing through the air back and forth. The empty sound of the night was instead replaced with the sound of war drums. War; war was madness. War was fire, it was burning and brought destruction in it's wake. What fire could do as well, was force change. War had brought about change. War had turned what was once the every man into Steele!
"Independence Day"
July 4th, 1976 - 2300 hours
Captain Max Steele aka Commie Puncher
Buckingham Palace, United Kingdom
The United States had concerns and suspicions that the Queen of England secretly had ties with baby Joseph Stalin and black Hitler. Thankfully for the safety and security of the American people. The United States Army could depend on Captain Max Steele to protect the safety and well being of the free world one one bullet at a time.
Inside the Buckingham Palace, Baby Stalin, Black Hitler, and the Queen of England sat around a large, solid gold table of evil. The Queen sat at the head of the table with Baby Stalin and Black Hitler on opposing sides. On the table was a map of the world.
Queen of England: Welcome Gentlemen to my estate. I take it you did not have much trouble making your way through customs.
Black Hitler: Not at all, but a cross country flight with a child is exhausting.
Baby Stalin: u wot, Comrade?
Baby Stalin looked over to Black Hitler with cold, and very Russian eyes of evil. To which Black Hitler just glared back. The Queen had to clear her throat to put the two on back.
Queen of England: Gentleman, and baby. Now is not the time, we need to discuss our super secret plots to thwart the Americans and that damned Max Steele.
Black Hitler: I hate that vile Max Steele, he had thwarted my plan to turn all of Australia into my evil perfect Kangaroo army.
Baby Stalin: I agree with the Queen comrade, that dreaded Max Steele just blew up one of our communist sickle factories just last week.
Suddenly a guard of the palace complete with that big silly hat came storming into the throne room covered in the blood of his friends and family. The man was in a panic and in a fright. His eyes were open wide as if he had seen a ghost. He was so stricken with fear, and shock he couldn't even speak. The Queen looked at him with a mix of anger and shock.
Queen of England: What is the meaning of this? Why didn't you knock!?"[/color]
The guard was going to answer the Queen's commands and warn her about the intruder, but the intruder made himself known by taking the guard, lifting him up by his chicken legs and throwing him well across the room before shouting loudly.
???: Because freedom rings!
It was the god damn American hero, Max Steele! The man was shirtless, beneath the blood of the guards and commies was his rippling large muscles, he was a modern day Captain America injected with Cheetah blood. His cold blue eyes stared straight at the Queen, he saw right through her charade, Max then pointed a bulging, muscley finger at the Queen and shouted.
Max Steele: I knew you were working with the Communists, Queen Elizabeth! Or should I say--
His finger then exploded from his hand like a bullet and hit the Queen right between the eyes. The Queen fell to the floor, hissing in pain. It wasn't before she rose back up to her feet, skin peeling off of her body before revealing her true form. She was not the Queen, but rather was a lizard person!
Queen of England: Curse you, Max Steele, I just cleaned this new face!
Steele then pointed his freshly new finger and another at Black Hitler and Baby Stalin and shouted at the two dastardly duos of evil and villainy.
Max Steele: Don't think I'm finished with you two Commie loving, Nazi mating scum bags!
Baby Stalin: Cheese it, Comrade!
Black Hitler didn't need to hear anything else, the both of them pressed a button under their chairs, and then quickly they were launched into the air. The two had escaped thanks to those blasted rocket chairs! Steele aimed up high and began firing away with finger guns, but it was all in vain. The Queen used this moment to escape as well, using a trap door under her throne to escape back to her cavern of Lizard people.
Steele looked around at the now destroyed room before saying to himself.
Max Steele: What's the wrong Queen, ashamed of your reptile dysfunction!?
Max lit a government issued Menthol cigarette and then grabbed his standard issue bottle of Jack Daniels number five from his back pocket flask. He opened the hatch and saw the hoards of lizard people slithering around like some super speed highway for six foot tall lizards.The Queen was doing her best to run as far away from Steele as she could.
Max Steele: Consider this my declaration of independence.
Max knocked back the Daniels before spitting it out in front of the lit cigarette, a mighty flame erupted from Steele's thunderlips like a flamethrower, roasting everything inside. The Queen began to burn to ashes shouting and shaking her scaley fist.
Queen of England:Curse you, Max Steele, you haven't seen the last of meeeeeeeeeee!
And while the action and the slaughter of America's enemies continue, this is where one of the many stories of Max Steele's past ends. And here is where his future begins.
39 years later
"Rebirth"
July 4th, 2015 - 1600 hours
Ret. Captain Max Steele aka Old Man Commie Puncher
America's Finest Retirement Home, Washington DC
America's Finest is a special retirement home specifically designed for America's veterans. Everyone inside these halls were once proud soldiers who fought for their country. The scars are not just skin deep, they plague the minds of many of these old, decaying men and the home works to try and bring some peace and security for the afflicted men. Much like what the men and women in this home did oh so long ago.
At the visiting rooms sat a young man in a cheap suit. His hair was slicked back and on his face was the most shit eating grin to beat all shit eating grins. A nurse approached the man and asked.
Hello, are you Jonathan Red,
The man in the suit rose up and shook the nurse's hand and said back to her politely.
???:Yes, is Max doing okay, can I see him? It's urgent...
The nurse looked concerned and shook her head and said to the dressed man.
Nurse: Max isn't doing so well, sir. He's seen a lot in his day, and he hasn't reacted to group therapy lately. He is suffering from hallucinations, paranoia and I think his PTSD is actually getting worse. Just last week, Mr.Steele tried to choke out a garden fern because he thought it was a Russian sleeper agent.
Jonathan Red: Uh-huh...
Nurse: If you want to see him, that's fine but honestly this is all information you should know. Just don't make any sudden movements and for the love of god don't bring up Vladimir Putin.
Jonathan nodded his head and understood the dire of the situation. He then started to follow the nurse through the hallways. It seemed like at every turn there was a sight of former glory fading away. Once great, strong men were withering away in a bed with nothing but the will of man and science keeping them alive. At the last room down the hall sat the greatest hero America had ever had, Max Steele resting in a lounge chair, staring out to the city of Washington DC.
Jonathan looked at the sight and then knocked on the door and announced himself.
Jonathan Red: Hey uh, Max. It's me, John. Your son in law... can I come in?[/color]
Max grunted and nodded his head before saying a gruff, chalky voice.
Max Steele: What do you want, Jonathan?
Jonathan: I just can't stop by to say hi to my wife's old man?
Max Steele: Unless you brought me a pack of smokes, or my favorite gun I don't care what you have to say.
Jonathan cleared his throat again and stepped into the room and closed the door behind you and said to the old man.
Jonathan Red: The country needs you again, Max.
Max scoffed and shook his head.
Max Steele: What would they want with an old man? I'm just an old bag of bones. The Army doesn't want me anymore, that's why they shipped me off here.
John started to pull up his phone and started to search the internet for a video, while his nose was pointed down towards the phone Jonathan responded.
Jonathan Red: Forget the Army, Max... I found out a horrible secret.
Jonathan then handed the phone over to Max and started up a youtube clip. The clip played before Max's eyes. It enraged the old man, what was that clip exactly?
Once we returned to the hotel room that night in Moscow, I was livid. The tag team titles had been ours, only to be taken from us at the last minute.
"Мы уничтожим их!"
(We will destroy them!)
My rage was only subsided when Freddie and Victor came into the room.
"Calm down Oleg, you have to focus on your next match. You can't let your anger overcome you. You are better than this, you are better than Cerberus, and this week you will get your revenge in the form of taking out Cerberus' wretched bitch Eve Taylor."
The thought of taking out Eve calmed me down. It was Kagura that was a wild card. She was a complete unknown. She had shown recently that she had no allegiance to Eve. In fact, she had shown an uncharacteristic hatred toward Eve in recent weeks.
Victor made a motion to head to the hotel bar to calm us down, so Freddie and I followed.
***
It was rare that I got drunk, but the next thing I remember was waking up in the hotel in New Delhi. I did my best to recall the dream I had as I awaited Freddie and Victor to come to my room to head to the gym. It was difficult to recall with a hangover. I walked to the window and peaked through the blinds.
"Проклятие солнце."
(Curse the sun.)
I went to the kitchen area of my room and put on a pot of coffee as I awaited Victor and Freddie. I was uneasy about fighting women, even if it meant potentially getting a leg up on Cerberus.
In Russia, women were not often put into positions to fight, though they were still revered as fighters. In cold nights they would give birth, just like that of my own mother. In those same cold nights, they would cook hearty meals, like my own mother. While the men were away, the women would tend to the family, like my own mother.
Then a knock at the door.
"Oleg, its Freddie and Victor, are you awake?"
I dressed quickly and went to the door to let them in.
"Da. I am enjoying my coffee before the start of the day."
Victor went inside and took a cup from my kitchen and poured himself a cup. I offered to Freddie, but he had an energy drink. In truth, it was probably best that Mr. Fortune lay off anything with caffeine, as he was already pretty high strung, but my focus was elsewhere. I had two bitches who needed to be put in their place.
"в восхождении , Cerberus будет знать полную силу матушки-России . грязные собаки будут положил раз и навсегда."
(At Ascension, Cerberus will know the full power of Mother Russia. The filthy dogs will be put down once and for all.)
Max's eyes almost turned blood red at the sight. His once old and tired body started to tense with him rising up in anger.
Max Steele: The Communists, they're back!
A wry smile crossed over Jonathan's face, he then played along with Max's rage and anger. He scowled and shouted to Max.
Jonathan Red: The damn Communists are attempting to take over entertainment. Starting with Professional Wrestling, Max! Soon they'll be in the news, and in the history channel, and then... then the white house!
Max Steele: Jabroni, there is no way in HELL I am letting that happen. I had traveled all four corners of the Earth to beat the Communists. I gave it all to assure Capitalism ran wild in this country. But these colors don't run, and Max Steele doesn't die! I'll join WZCW and Steele is going to put the hurt on anyone who threatens sweet liberty and freedom! I'm gonna take down Team Russia, then I will go to Russia and Putin right in his vodka drinking commie face!
Jonathan Red: Don't forget Max, those two are the only ones who are open about being Russian Nationalists. Who knows how deep the rot goes in WZCW. But don't worry, I'll be in your corner, I'll find out who's working for the enemy, and I'll keep my finger on the pulse for money-- I mean freedom, and stuff! Team Russia, Vladimir, Communism, and hell even anyone who gets in my way, prepare to feel the Steele!
The fight in Max was rekindled, the man started to hulk around the room, he grabbed Jonathan by the collar of his crummy suit and lifted him up and shouted.
Max Steele: We gotta break out of here, Jonathan! This place can't hold me any longer! I gotta go and clean house!
Max dropped his son in law before looking around before lifting his lazyboy and tossing it right out the window. Jonathan looked in shock with Max looking over and saying in a relaxed, humorous voice.
Relax and take a seat.
Max then jumped out of the room and towards the chair to escape the confinements of the retirement home. Running to freedom and towards Scotland. Jonathan was on his butt just sitting there in shock and then laughed to himself.
Jonathan Red: Oh yes, my plan is going all according to plan... soon, soon I will--
Jonathan was then cut off by nurses and orderlies rushing into the home and asking what happened, once Max told them what happened, the nurse simply said confused.
Nurse: He was allowed to leave anytime he wanted, what's wrong with him!?
*THE FOLLOWING IS A VIDEO THAT WAS POSTED TO THE OFFICIAL YOUTUBE PAGE OF WRESTLEZONE CHAMPIONSHIP WRESTLING*
The video, clearly taken on a cell phone, comes from the back of a limousine by elegANT.
Hello, everyone. elegANT here. I apologize for the quality of the video, but I wanted my ponderings recorded as rapidly as possible. Earlier tonight, WZCWs annual Unscripted show took place. It is always a favorite of the fans because they are granted the opportunity to decide stipulations and/or competitors in the matches. For that same reason, it can be quite difficult as a competitor. I assure you that this is not some sort of complaint or excuse. It is legitimately exciting getting ready for a match and not knowing what exactly you are in for. Coming into my match tonight, I knew I was defending my title against Bruce Irwin, Noah Ryder, and James Howard. I also knew that a standard four-way match wasnt an option; whoever walked out with the Elite X Title would have to beat everyone else in the match.
elegANT takes a drink of water.
I really thought that an elimination match would work in my favor. It isnt quite as grueling as I imagine a gauntlet match would be, and it isnt as frenzied as a scramble match. I dont know if it did work in my favor though, because I lost. The idea of losing has never bugged me, but, if Im to be honest, I havent had to deal with it much. Ive lived a charmed life, and I know that. This is going to be a learning experience for me, and I look forward to it.
elegANT pauses for a moment to collect his thoughts.
The first thing I should do is officially congratulate the new champion. James Howard eliminated two of his three opponents, including yours truly, and has been on a roll as of late. His methods may not be fully on the up-and-up, but he won fairly tonight. I hope to get a chance to regain my championship at some point, but for now, my focus is set on the roulette rounds. I may be disappointed that I no longer represent WZCW as the Elite X Champion, but the roulette can change careers more than anything else in the year other than the Lethal Lottery. I could get a match against the new World Champion, Dorian Slaughter. I could get an opportunity to regain my Elite X Championship or win the Eurasian Championship. Maybe Ill be afforded the chance to take down another established WZCW wrestler like I did against Ty Burna a few weeks ago.
He takes another drink of water.
I apologize. I know Im usually more upbeat than this, but losing the championship has gotten into my head a bit. I relished being champion a significant amount and I want to continue to feel the way being champion made me feel. I want to continue thriving for both myself and the opportunities it gives me to interact with the fans. The first step of continuing my success takes place in Glasgow for the roulette shows. Once again, I dont know what awaits me, but this time I will flourish in the unknown. Thats my promise to you, WZCW and elegANT fans.
The scene fades to black.
Eve Taylor ran alongside the riverbank of River Clyde, sweating profusely from her forehead. Not even the freezing-cold summer breeze could wipe away the beads that dripped off her body but she didn't care. Despite her wirey hair and clean face, the people of Glasgow still stared in awe at her beauty; it was the reason she dressed... lighter than usual. Eve wanted to feel good about herself on this day. Winning against Kagura Ohzora and earning an Elite X championship opportunity was enough for her to change to a positive attitude but Eve craved the feeling... the attention. She wanted more; she needed more.
"Let's give them a show."
Eve picked up the pace and began to run, over-taking anyone slower than her. The unnaturally cool breeze slapped her face as she ran faster, causing her eyes to squint and water-up. She could barely see what was in front of her but she knew more people were focusing their attention on her and she smirked, taking in the moment. She picked up the pace again, going faster and faster until she hit full sprint. This time, those in her way had to step out the way or face supermodel shoulder charge. She felt like a Titan racing along the riverbank, unstoppable to anyone as the adrenaline kicked in.
"Push yourself. Do it."
As Eve went to begin a full sprint, an unknowing person in the crowd walked out in front of her.
"Merda!"
Alarmed, she tried her best to evade the collision without hurting herself but Eve's momentum was too much, crashing into the female civilian!
THUD!
The two of them toppled to the ground and hit the ground with a big noise. Some of the spectators came over to check on both girls, offering assistance. Angered by the accident, Eve refused help and yelled at anyone who tried to help. Eve hopped up quickly, furious and embarrassed at the incident. She dusted herself off as she heard the crowd quickly going to the aid of the other person, being lifted to her feet.
"Typical damsel in distress."She whispered under her breath before turning around, looking to cause a scene."Listen here, you-"
Eve trailed off as she realised who she hit; WZCW ring announcer Selena Anderson. She seemed slightly annoyed at the incident but put on her big smile, one that rivalled Eve's famous good looks.
"Fancy running into you."Eve said a blank tone, crossing her arms.
Selena laughed."Yeah, what are the odds."
An awkward silence was had between Eve, Selena and the on-lookers, ready for something to happen. Eve remained silent as she continued fixing herself up. After a few more seconds, Selena raised her index finger as if she had an idea.
"Want to grab a pint?"She suggested.
Eve rolled her eyes.
"Why would I go to the pub with you?"
-------------------------------------------
In what feels like an instant, one of the bartenders at the local tavern hands both Selena and Eve a pint as they sit opposite in a small cubicle. Eve looked around the fairly active pub, familiarising herself with her surroundings.
"How did I get here? Why am I here?"Eve whispered, questioning herself.
Eve came to the conclusion that she must've hurt her head in the fall and thus why she is here. She rubbed her head feeling for a bump but couldn't feel anything. She turned her head to Selena to continue checking but saw she was holding her glass in the air.
"Cheers."
Eve was taken back by the sentiment but noticed something; Selena's facial expression had changed. It wasn't the same, cheery person she was used to and saw out at the riverbank. It was a different demeanour. Eve wasn't sure what to make of it but she was glad that Selena's beauty paled in comparison to hers, so Eve picked up her glass and they clanged pints together. Eve took a gulp and put hers down before looking back at Selena again, who was chugging down her lager and slammed it down on the table.
"Another please, barkeep!"
"Make that two! Move out of my way, idiot."
Eve looked up to see another familiar face; WZCW interviewer Stacey Madison, who had the same sour look on her face as usual as she pushed away one of the patrons in the bar, presumably "hitting on" Madison. She planted herself on the seat next to Selena, pulling out her phone as another bartender came over and placed over two more lagers in quick fashion.
"Another terrible day on this boring World Tour. I don't know why the company pays me to be here if I'm not getting interviews. Every time someone wants to be interviewed, they request Leon! If someone needs an interview, they send Leon! It's like, why the hell am I even here?"
"I know the feeling. I got sent to China as a back-up announcer for Unscripted. Like Truman would ever give up his spot. He's definitely a true man he is, keeping us women down."
"At least you got to announce the Ascension supershow. I got replaced by Sebastian Copeland. I got replaced by freaking Seabass! This sucks!"
"Amen!"
Selena & Stacey clinged glass and took a swig of their pints. Eve had no idea what was happening but she now no longer cared she was there. With Selena's odd attitude and Stacey's blunt bitchiness, Eve was the alpha female of the group and would get the attention from on-lookers she craved. She took another gulp of her lager.
Eve looked up as both girls were staring at her, expecting her to say something.
"Yeah, I was running and I... she stepped in front of me and we crashed."
"Literally running?"Stacey asked, confirming what was said.
"Yes. It's what I do to keep fit and clear my mind. Is that a problem, Stacey?"Eve retorted, slightly annoyed.
"I don't care what you do, but it's working... the keep fit part, I mean."
"Yeah, what she said."
Eve started feeling good about this decision and sat up with a smile on her face, playing with her hair.
"Well, I do what can."Eve said, trying her best to be modest.
"But the clear your mind part..."Stacey started, "Is it because Flex stayed back in Russia to go meet up with a friend?"
"Oh yeah, Svetlana is her name I think. Right, Eve?"
Eve shot a deathly look at Selena."How did you know her name... I mean, how do you know that?"Eve scrambled."She could be a friend or something..."
Stacey & Selena let out a laugh.
"C'mon, now. I know you're a world-famous supermodel but even that was a little too fake to pass off. I see the way you look at Flex every time all three of you come out to the ring. You're jealous." Selena smiles, becoming a little giddy at potential drama. "Personally, I prefer Ramparte and his mysteriousness about him but it's only a one-time thing. Don't work yourself up about it."
"Ramparte is a creep, Selena."
"Creep, mysterious. Same thing, right?"Selena looks for approval from Stacey but she shakes her head. "Anyway, you don't need to worry about Flex. You're a good-looking gal and very successful in the ring. Focus on the competition first."
"You're weird, Selena. You can't do anything with a personality but muscles, I can think of a few ways I'd use them."
As Selena & Stacey bickered between each other, Eve drifted off into her own little world for a bit. Was Eve's new trend of taking jogs ever since losing the Eurasian championship a way of her running away from her problems? She won a chance to challenge for another title and she is still running, why? Is it because of the hot mess of feelings between Flex & herself? She didn't know but Selena was right about one thing: focusing on the competition.
"Focus on the competition."Eve said softly, interrupting Selena & Stacey."Why should I have to worry about anybody other than myself? I've never worried about others before and I became a successful supermodel known across the globe. Anyone I knew or cared about just got in way. Everyone! I just need to forget about Flex and his personal decisions and do what is right for Eve Taylor. I've got a guaranteed championship match against James Howard for the Elite X title where I could potentially become the first female competitor in history to win two championships!"
Eve formed a big smile on her face before finishing her lager and standing up to her feet. She looks down at the two girls.
"I've got to be prepared! This is the Roulette Rounds, after all. Anything could happen. I mean hell, if I can end up drinking an alcoholic beverage I don't like with the two of you in a tavern in Scotland, then anything could happen, right? Right!"
Eve goes to leave but Selena opens her mouth.
"Hey, this was fun. If you ever want to hang out with us again, hit us up. We'll be glad to have you around."
"Sure, why not? Better than having Miss Depressive over here draining me."
Eve smiled, loving the feeling of being wanted. She nodded at the two girls and left the bar, ready for what the world was ready to throw.
♪'Cause baby, now we got bad blood
You know it used to be mad love
So take a look what you've done
'Cause baby, now we got bad blood, hey!♪
"Mikey, the plane is landing in five minutes."
♪Hey! I can't take it back, look where I'm at!
We was on D like DOC, remember that?
My TLC was quite OD, ID my facts
Now POV of you and me, similar Iraq
I don't hate you but I hate to critique, overrate you
These beats of a dark heart, use basslines to replace you
Take time and erase you, love don't hear no more
No I don't fear no more, better yet respect ain't quite sincere no more♪
"I said the plane is touching down in less than five minutes, take your headphones off."
♪Oh, it's so sad to
Think about the good times
You and I
'Cause baby, now we got bad blood
You know it used to be mad love
So take a look what you've done
'Cause baby, now we've got bad blood, hey!
Now we got problems
And I don't think we can solve 'em
You made a really deep cut
And baby, now we got bad blood, hey!♪
I felt a sharp pain in my side, causing me to remove my headphones.
"What the hell was that all about?"
Matt gave me a look like I was an idiot. I looked around and noticed that the majority of the plane was looking at me as well.
"And why is everyone looking at me?"
Matt shook his head.
"You have been singing at the top of your lungs for the last half an hour. Besides the plane is about to touch down and we have to catch a cab to my grandpa's as soon as we touch down."
I put my headphones back in and stood up when the plane was safely on the ground and at the terminal. Matt wanted to keep a low profile so he wore a jacket zippered high and the hood up despite it being almost ninety six (thirty five for you commies) degrees outside. I simply kept my earphones in and wore a hat to deter anyone from bothering us. When we arrived to pick up our luggage I couldn't help but take the opportunity to take a jab at Matt.
"Looks like you packed light. Did you forget something back in China? Maybe something to hold up your pants, like a belt?"
Matt shoved me hard enough that he knocked me over onto the luggage carrier, so I took the opportunity to ride in circles until TSA officials asked me to leave. The sight of my fat ass riding in circles on the conveyor belt at least made Matt crack a smile.
"Come on, our taxi is outside."
I followed Matt outside, doing my best to battle the heat, squinting my eyes from the sun as I walked. Finally we got to our taxi. The cabbie opened the trunk and we threw out luggage in and we climbed inside. Since he spoke Spanish, Matt sat in the front to give directions while I took up the entire backseat.
"Hola. A donde?"
(Hello. Where to?)
Matt gave him the address and we were off. The driver and Matt made small talk in Spanish, while I used my mobile hotspot to surf the web on my laptop.
"Ponte el cinturón de seguridad por favor."
(Put on your seat belt please.)
I looked at Matt puzzled, as I didn't understand what our driver had just said to me.
"He asked if you are famous, because you look like the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man. He wants your autograph."
Matt had a laugh, so I could only assume that he was joking. I kicked the back of his seat as he laughed.
"At least I walked out of China a winner."
I managed to shut Matt up until we arrived at his childhood house roughly fifteen or twenty minutes later.
"Home sweet home."
The house was and always had been a dump, but I didn't say anything, as I knew that despite my own personal hardships with my father, I had lived a much more privileged life than what Matt had. I also knew that he and I weren't much different. Much of who he was in the ring he drew from watching anime, much of myself was drawn from video games. Maybe it was why I was drawn to him, even when he and I didn't see eye to eye. We were two sides of the same coin.
I paid the cabbie as Matt ran to great his grandpa.
"Me alegro de verte!
(Good to see you!)
"Sí. Ha pasado demasiado tiempo."
(Yes. It has been too long.)
The two hugged while I carried both sets of bags to the house. Grandpa Tastic greeted me, and I simply nodded until I sat the bags down.
"I see you are doing well Michael."
He poked me in my stomach and laughed. I laughed back.
"Mucho más grande!"
"That...that didn't even make sense. Much big?"
Grandpa Tastic laughed while I shrugged my shoulders.
"You know damn well if it isn't on the Taco Bell menu, then I don't know what it means."
Matt nodded at his grandpa, conveying that I was right.
"Well I don't know about you guys, but I just spent about seventeen hours on a plane, and I'm tired. So I'm gonna catch a little nap, you guys feel free to catch up. Its good to see you again Grandpa."
With that I let Matt and his grandpa catch up while I took a nap on the couch.
Oddly enough I don't recall what I dreamed about, but I woke up about two hours later with Matt looking upset and watching Spanish language weather.
"Man she is fine. Too bad I don't understand a word of what she is saying."
"It's the goddamn weather, all you need to do is look at the pictures and numbers."
"What crawled up your ass?"
Matt shook his head.
"Nothing, I just got into a fight with Grandpa. He said I lost because I didn't want the title enough."
I stood up.
"Do you mind if I hook my Xbox up? And what does he mean you didn't want it? You fought until you literally passed out."
"No thanks to you though."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"Don't worry about it. You did your best without getting me disqualified."
I finished hooking up my Xbox and took a seat to finish talking to Matt before I popped in the new Batman game and finally start playing.
"So what are you going to say on TV? I mean about losing the title."
"I'm not sure yet."
"Come on man, you have to know."
Matt looked at me annoyed. I threw up my hands as if to surrender.
"Okay man, I get it. Can't say I've ever been in your situation, so I don't really know how it feels. I do know what hunger feels like though, so I'm headed into town to get some food. Do they have Taco Bell here?"
Matt sort of snorted a laugh and nodded his head yes.
"Time to Live Mas mi hermano. You want something?"
"Nah. Grandpa is making dinner later, and unlike some people I try to keep my caloric intake to under thirty five hundred calories a day."
I took the keys to Matt's childhood moped from the shelf by the door and left to head into town. Little did I know my lack of Spanish would get me in trouble.
[Ignore the boring ride into town, its in town where the action happens.]
Once I got my usual order from Taco Bell, three cheesy potato burritos, three Doritos Locos Tacos, two cheesy gordita crunches, and an order of cheesy nachos, I still had a few dollars left. I rode the moped around until I came to a drugstore. Knowing that my dinner would surely not agree with my stomach, I made a quick stop to pick up some digestive meds. This is where my lack of Spanish really bit me in the ass.
"Hola. Cómo puedo ayudarle?"
(Hello. How can I help you)"
"Yo no hablo español. Well except that. Literally the only Spanish I know is how to say I don't speak Spanish."
The man looked at me puzzled. I pulled out my phone and pulled up a Spanish dictionary. I was able to put together a few words that I hoped he would understand.
I hoped that I got across to him that I needed something to help me feel better after an upset stomach. The pharmacist dug motioned for me to follow him, and he took me out back to his van. It was run down, and I wondered what I was getting into until he pulled a small bag from the back of his van and gave it to me.
"Dinero?"
I took out my wallet and the man quickly snatched what money I had left and got in his van and drove off. I shrugged my shoulders and got back on Matt's moped and drove back to Grandpa's house.
[Cue up another uneventful yet hilarious drive as Mikey tries to eat his Taco Bell while driving the moped.]
By the time I got home, the sun was setting and I had nearly finished all of my dinner. By this time my stomach was upset and I headed to the fridge to get a drink to take the pills that that man had given me.
"We got OJ, purple stuff, soda, aww Sunny D!"
I went and sat on the couch and popped the pills and began to play my game. After a few minutes I began to fill lightheaded, and the room started to spin. Everything got blurry. I tried to stand, but I had no control over my body, until I began to feel myself sucked into the television. Suddenly a wave of men in clown masks came running at me and I had no choice but to fight them. With a series of kicks, punches, and Game Overs, I dispatched them rather easily, though my fear of clowns began to flare up again.
"Where am I?"
All I could hear was the echo that my voice created.
I began to walk, until suddenly I found an old man who resembled Grandpa Tastic, except he was in eight bit form.
"To free yourself from this place, you must confront your worst fears. Also it would really be cool if you saved me as well, I've been trapped here for a long time. I'm still only eight bits for goodness sake."
"But I just fought a bunch of clowns, what is scarier than clowns?"
I shouldn't have asked because the next thing I knew a giant wolf came running at me. I quickly dove out of the way, and asked the old man if he knew what was going on.
"That is Fenrir. He is instrumental in the events of Ragnarök. "
I shrugged my shoulders and exhaled deeply, and began to fight the mighty wolf. It was a fierce battle, but eventually I got the upper hand and with a mighty Game Over, I slammed the wolf into oblivion, where he burst into a million pixels.
I looked around expecting some magical door to open, but I had no such luck. I guess Fenrir wasn't my worst fear. The old man and I continued to walk, making small talk and defeating various bitch ass enemies who dared step in our path.
"So how long have you been stuck here?"
"I already told you, a long time. I'm still only an eight bit figure, so obviously a while."
"Why are you here then?"
"A mighty beast inhabits this land. There are stories told one day a mighty hero would come and save us from the dreadful beast."
"Tell me about this beast."
"The beast is said to have multiple heads, all with a unique personality. Many have tried to take it down in the past, some even succeeding in taking down one or even two of the heads, but each time the third head manages to push the adventurer aside. For they all believe to be perfect. Only a true great hero can defeat the beast."
"How will I know if I..."
We were interrupted by a mighty roar. Just ahead was a cave with the words "Surebrec Cave"
"This is where the beast dwells. We shall see if you are the true hero."
"Fuck it. FITE ME IRL BEAST!"
I let out my manliest battle cry and charged into the cave. There were bones and various remains from various warriors who had tried to battle the beast before me. I was met by the mighty three headed beast, and did my best to fight them, but it was too much. I retreated, but the beast was on my heels. I shouted to the old man.
"I'm sorry, I can't do it. I'm not the man to defeat the beast. I'm not a great hero."
Oddly enough, the old man smiled at me.
"You are wrong Mikey. The mark of a great hero is his flaw."
With that a sword fell from the heavens, and landed next to me.
Just as I stopped to pick up the sword, one of the heads of the mighty beast swallowed me whole.
"Oh, my God! He ate Mikey! Mikey is dead!'
Just as the old man turned to run from the beast, he bumped into me, sword in hand.
"Its okay, I had an extra life."
With that I leapt into the air, doing a sweet flip, and with a mighty swing, I beheaded the three headed beast, and landed on the ground with the grace of an Olympic gymnast.
The old man rushed me, and pushed his head hard into my chest. Then I saw the flash of a bright light.
"MIKEY! MIKEY! MIKEY! WAKE UP!"
I opened my eyes and Matt and his grandpa were standing over me with paramedics trying to give me CPR.
"Mikey, you overdosed on some type of drug. What the hell were you thinking?!?"
And whence the wars in the heavens and upon the Earth have commenced and ceased, one remains to walk among the dead. No exaltation shall befall the mighty warrior, yet neither shall His heart seek adulation. For He shall walk alone, yet unpredictable challenges forever loom in the shadows of the fallout. And so more shall come, from this side of the grave or the other, yet His reign shall be eternal.
THE END
The Angel descended from the barren heavens, the King's golden shield adorning his torso, to what once was the Earth. In the wake of the Great War, desolation now reigned where life once flourished. The prophecies of The Book of Slaughter had come to pass, Death had triumphed over life, beauty had been laid to rest by the putrid embodiment of desecration.
The faded scene of the barren wastelands slowly progresses toward full color as Slaughter labors through his final steps toward the horizon. He reaches the dirt wedge at the perimeter of the landfill and gazes down upon the lush forests below. Birds dance swiftly through the canopies of trees, a mildly warm breeze rustling their feathers and the leaves in unison.
The decrepit stench of rotting trash barely dusted with shoddy soil as cover material provides the backdrop. Barren, uninhabited, undesirable to most, yet haven to him. The World Heavyweight Champion peers down upon a world that shields death from mindful eyes. In their world, death is taboo. Unspeakable, yet inevitable. Guarded, protected, relegated to somber cries within funeral parlors and rifleman salutes to coffins draped in flags.
In his world, death is the only mortal. Ragnarok had proceeded according to his prophecy. Live Mas had fallen to The Deceiver and a new era of darkness had ascended to smother WZCW. Yet, despite the prophecies, despite the victories, he would be deemed a fool to have believed that their world would simply succumb to death so abruptly. Their gods had fallen, yet how many more mortals seek to sit upon the highest throne of the gods?
As he runs a hand from the back of his head down his face, clenching his beard as he passes his chin, he can't help but imagine what John Constantine must feel. A man who abandoned everything that he loved, or at least everything that loved him, in pursuit of the throne, only to watch that very throne be ignited in flames and expunged from the heavens, creating nothing more than a pinhole in the Earth as it sunk into oblivion. John's hatred and desire for retribution had devolved the former politician's anger into bloodlust.
Shielding his eyes from the sun with his cracked palms, he felt the calming comfort of the darkness. The darkness that had been his safe haven for longer than he could remember, now pursued another in John. Upon the mask, John seeks retribution for injustice, yet beneath the mask, he confides in the darkness. The story was all too familiar. Confiding within yourself with darkness as a pathway was the easy part, submitting your mind to carry out its' will is the endgame. John was on the brink of no return, the decision was now his to make, and the subsequent consequences of that decision, his to bear.
The World Heavyweight Champion places a boot upon a large stone as the clouds at his back roll onward overhead, graying with each passing moment, casting their gloomy shadows upon the trees below.
Slaughter: The time has come for a new wave of mortals to assemble for their own onslaught of the throne.
Thunder shakes the scene, spitting up dust from the cracked soils, only to be swiftly swept away by the rushing winds.
Slaughter: Make haste, for the throne you seek is one that cannot be found.
Lightning pierces the clouds, scattering steam through the humid air as it lashes out at the Earth.
Slaughter: For I stand before you not as a King, nor a god, but as The Deceiver whom has brought an era of darkness upon the Earth.
The scene fades deeper into darkness as a heavy rain begins to fall in the foreground.
Slaughter: By the hands of The Deceiver, under this empty banner, may the fires that burn within your souls lead you to accept your ultimate fate of death.
Several bolts of lightning strike the tree tops simultaneously, instantly igniting the forest into flames. The birds abandon their safe havens as the gusting winds fuel the flames to rage with fury.
Slaughter: Or burn.
The scene slowly fades into blackness, the image of the inflamed forest burning brightly against the absence of light.
A powerful beam of light erupts in the foreground as The Angel of Death begins his ascension through the storm. Overlooking the reborn scene of destruction below, the pentagram forms within the scorched canopies of the thick forest, spreading wider, farther, beyond where the eye can see, as he rises.
The sun glistens through the side-window of a blue SUV. Light reflects off the centerpiece of the newly acquired EurAsian Championship that rests on the dashboard. Chris K.O. sits behind the wheel with a pair of aviators over his eyes. Very little of his face is left uncovered from his sunglasses and facial hair. The beautiful Astrid is in the passenger side, looking at her phone. Steve the Volleyball is in a car seat in the back. Chris taps his hands against the steering wheel to the song playing on the radio as Astrid puts away her phone. She turns down the music.
Astrid:Chris, are you sure you know where you are going? We’ve been driving in circles in this city for several minutes.
Chris:Of course! They just opened a new Chuck E Cheese here. You think I don't know where a Chuck E Cheese is?
Astrid facepalms.
Astrid:Remind me again why your title celebration had to be at Chuck E Cheese? In Smogtown of all places.
Chris:If I have to explain to you why my title celebration has to be at Chuck E Cheese, I don’t think you will ever understand me.
Astrid rolls her eyes.
Astrid:So, did you talk to Theron after your match?
Chris:Of course. We shook hands and stuff. There is no doubt that he will want to enact his rematch clause soon. It’s just a matter of when exactly. But I have high hopes for my title reign. I promised going in that if I won, I would be a better champion. The best way for me to do that is to be a champion that defends and has a lengthy reign. I’m thinking the longest-ever EurAsian Title reign has a nice ring to it. Doesn’t it Steve?
The camera shows Steve for a brief second in the car seat. Astrid cocks an eyebrow at the ambitious superstar.
Astrid:Woah, woah, tiger. You haven’t even made it through the roulette round yet. Don’t you think you are getting a little cocky too soon?
Chris:*chuckles* Don’t worry. I’m not going into this next set of shows with my nose up. I know that anything can happen.
Astrid screams, and the sound of metal bending and glass breaking prelude us into a blackout. Heavy breathing occurs until we see a set of eyelids slowly open. It is Chris. He is on his back in the road with car debris all around him. His face is covered in black smudges and scrapes. Still in a lying position, he sees his SUV burning in the distance. As he begins to speak, a pair of mismatched shoes appear next to him.
???:My, my. I hope you have insurance.
The mysterious figure hovering over Chris begins laughing maniacally. The sun from above casts a shadow that makes it hard for Chris to fully see who the person is. The figure looks in another direction.
???:Oh, what’s this?
The figure walks over to a spot nearby. Chris turns his head to see what he has spotted.
???:Yes... Yes, this will do for payment. *laughs*
The person picks up the EurAsian Championship from the ground. He turns around, and Chris can now see him fully.
The sound of police sirens are heard in the distance. The man takes notice of them as he drapes the belt over his shoulder. He looks down at Chris.
???:Toodaloo. *laughs*
The man runs off as Chris finally snaps out of his daze. He gingerly climbs to his feet before a realization hits him.
Chris:ASTRID?
Chris runs over to the burning car. The fire and smoke is too thick for him to see inside.
Chris:ASTRID?!?!
Astrid:Chris!
Chris runs past the car and sees Astrid being helped by some citizens on the other side. He runs over to her.
Chris:Are you okay?
Astrid:Yeah, I’m fine.
Chris:Oh, thank god.
Chris kneels down and hugs her. Astrid hugs him back and closes her eyes out of relief. However, she opens them back and her face turns to a look of distraught upon seeing something.
Astrid:Chris…
Chris:Yeah?
Chris pulls away from hug and sees her timid eyes. He turns around and catches what she is seeing. Chris stumbles away from Astrid toward the direction she is looking and falls to his knees. The camera peers over Chris’ shoulder and reveals Steve, nearly flattened, with piece of metal pierced through him. The screen goes black.
Steve lays motionless in a hospital bed with several IVs attached to him. Chris and Astrid watch him from outside the room through a glass window. A doctor is in the room, but he exits to address Chris.
Doctor:It’s not looking good. Shards of metal are responsible for 50% of volleyball deaths yearly.
Astrid:What is the other 50%?
Doctor: Getting kicked over the fence and into the neighbor’s yard.
Chris looks very upset over the news. Astrid sees this.
Astrid:Thank you, doctor.
The doctor nods and walks away. Astrid puts an arm around Chris.
???:Are you Chris K.O.?
Chris looks over at a man who is approaching. It is none other than former WZCW HQ Head of Security, Giles.
Giles:I never had a chance to meet you back when I worked with WZCW, but I have heard a lot about you Mr. K.O.. My name is Giles. I am Smogtown’s Police Chief.
Chris shakes his hand.
Giles:I’m very sorry to hear about what happened to you-
Giles looks through the window at Steve.
Giles:And your family.
Astrid:What exactly did happen?
???:His name is Mr. Fiz.
Chris and Astrid turn the opposite direction of Giles and see Smogtown’s resident hero, and former WZCW Tag Team Champion, Haven, perching on the sill of an open hospital window.
Giles:I figured you might show up.
Haven climbs into the building and walks up to the group.
Haven:When I heard that there was an incident involving a WZCW star, I had to make sure it wasn’t a premeditated encounter with my history in the fed. Also, hi. I’m Haven.
Giles:Don’t worry. I think it was coincidence. Fiz had just robbed a bank and had hijacked a public bus with his goons. He ran into Mr. K.O. and his-
Astrid:Girlfriend.
Giles nods politely.
Giles:Fiz ran his bus into anything that was in his way. Do you mind if I ask you why you two were in the city today?
Astrid seems somewhat embarrassed about answering.
Astrid:Uh, Chuck E Cheese. To celebrate.
Haven:*giddly* You mean the new one on Porter Ave?
Haven squeals like a school girl. Chris slams his fist against the glass.
Astrid:Chris?
Chris:Officer, do you know where I can find this Mr. Fiz?
Giles:I wish. I know he took your championship belt. I have my best men on the case.
Haven:I know where to find him.
Chris looks at Haven with a quizzical look.
Chris:Let’s go, then.
Giles:Now, hold on-
Chris:Hold on nothing. Take me now, Haven.
Haven:Don’t worry, Chris. Stay here and I’ll get your belt back-
Chris:This isn’t about the damn belt!
Chris looks into the hospital room. The others do the same.
Giles:Look, Haven. This guy can fight. I wouldn’t normally advocate this, but...
Haven sizes Chris up. Astrid shoots a concerned look at Chris.
Astrid:You can’t be serious?
Chris:Of course I am serious.
Astrid:This isn’t an opponent in WZCW. This is a madman. A criminal!
Chris:I’ve fought many of those in the ring. Hell, I was one of those.
Chris looks at Haven.
Chris:Well, what will it be?
Haven crosses his arms. However, a smile slowly forms on his face.
Haven:Looks like I got a new sidekick!
Chris smiles and turns to Astrid. He kisses her forehead.
Chris:Look after Steve. I promise I won’t do anything stupid.
Astrid grows a small smirk to let Chris know she supports him. Haven is now hanging halfway out the hospital window.
Haven:No promises from me!
Astrid:Just be safe.
Chris smile and nods before kissing her. The EurAsian champion runs to the window, but Haven stops him.
Haven:Oh, yeah. There is one condition. I can’t let you go with me like that. There’s a reason why I wear a mask. Not just to protect myself, but the ones I love. You need a costume.
Giles walks up to the duo.
Giles:I remember a time where there was a white knight attire worn by a certain someone. Maybe I can whip up something down at the office?
Chris hesitates, but then looks at Giles with a smirk.
We see the emerald hero, Haven, and Chris, donned head-to-toe in a suit of blue knight armor with his signature helmet in the shade of blue too. His beard hangs out from the helmet. They are quickly approaching a warehouse as they beat down a wave of henchmen.
Haven: Wow! 3D printers are amazing! Your armor looks great!
Chris takes the blue shield in his hand and swings it at an oncoming villain. He beats him down with a quick swipe of his shield.
Chris:Feels great, too!
Haven:So, what do I call you?
Chris:What do you mean?
Haven:You know, your hero name!
Chris:I'm not a hero.
Haven:It's just for fun!
Haven superkicks a henchman trying to sneak up on him from behind.
Chris:Fine. How about the Blue Knight?
Haven:I like it.
Chris and Haven perform a double team move where Chris sweeps the feet of a man and Haven executes a spinning wheel kick to him.
Haven:One question, though.
Chris:Yeah?
Haven:If you are a knight, where is your sword?
Chris slowly smirks at Haven. A henchman starts running towards them from a distance. Chris places the shield on his back where it attaches to a hook. He grabs a blue sleeve that is on his left arm and slowly pulls it off. Chris charges the henchman that is approaching and nails him with a stiff clothesline that sends the henchmen spinning in slow motion to the ground.
Chris kneels down after delivering the blow. He slowly stands up and smiles at Haven.
Chris:That is my sword.
The scene switches to a shot of Haven and Chris busting open a door to the warehouse. They spot Mr. Fiz standing with his back turned on an upper metal walkway. Chris and Haven quickly ascend a metal staircase to get on the same level.
Haven:It’s over Fiz!
Fiz:Oh? *laughs*
Suddenly, a giant clamp drops down and captures Chris and Haven in its grasp. Chris and Haven struggle to get free, but it is no use. Fiz turns around with his wicked smile. The EurAsian Title is draped over his shoulder.
Fiz:Look at all the colors. *laughs*
Fiz slowly starts walking towards the trapped duo.
Fiz starts rubbing his hand down the red leather of the EurAsian Title. He kneels down and looks at Chris right in the face.
Fiz:Who are you? Is this your new sidekick, Haven?
Chris:I’m not his sidekick.
Haven:Details!
Fiz:*laughs* No, I know who you are. CHRIS K.O.
Haven:*gasp*
Chris:No! How?
Fiz removes the helmet from Chris’ head. He walks over to a nearby lever and pulls it. This causes a giant lid to move and unveil a boiling green substance in a large container down under the metal walkway. Fiz tosses the helmet into the boiling liquid.
Fiz:*laughs* Do you boys take me for a fool? I know all about Haven’s history in WZCW. When I saw this EurAsian Title just sitting in the street from the wreckage I caused, I knew that it was a sign. This upcoming round is what your company calls the Roulette Round, is it not? How delicious would it be for the wheel to turn for the EurAsian Title Match, and I, Mr. Fiz, come out as the new champion? Why not destroy a world that Haven fought so valiantly to protect? Smogtown can wait. *laughs*
Fiz hits another lever that raises Chris and Haven up and starts slowly moving them over the boiling liquid.
Haven:You’re crazy!
Chris and Haven struggle.
Fiz:Isn’t this fitting Haven? After all those years ago?
Chris:What is he talking about?
Fiz:*laughs* Black Hawk and boy wonder here swooped in to stop a fugitive on the run. He happened to take refuge in a nearby soda plant. I happened to be there at the time, running tests on boiling hot grape and orange extract. The scuffle turned violent and the two containers tipped over. My bones and my skin were boiled to its very core. One half orange, the other purple. *laughs*
Fiz looks down at the bubbling green liquid that Chris and Haven are over.
Fiz:*laughs* I thought sour apple was a fitting flavor for you, Haven.
Haven:You bastard! You know I hate sour apple!
Chris:It can’t end like this!
Fiz laughs until a shot ricochets off the steel handrail on the walkway. Fiz looks down and sees Gile and several police officers with their guns out.
Giles:Freeze!
Fiz:Uh oh!
Fiz pulls another lever that starts lowering Chris and Haven before fleeing.
Chris:Haven, start swinging with me!
Haven:Will they let me do that even if I don’t bring a partner to the party?
Chris:You idiot! Swing the chain!
Chris and Haven start moving their hips to force their momentum back and forth. Finally, they are able to swing hard enough to break free at the last second. The clamp breaks off of the chain and they fall next to the container. Chris unhinges himself out, but Haven is still having trouble.
Chris:I’m going after Fiz!
Haven:Be careful! You don’t know what you are up against! (SHAMELESS ROULETTE ROUND METAPHOR PLUG)
Chris runs outside and sees Fiz trying to flee. He catches up to him and grabs his shoulder. Fiz flips Chris around and throws him to the ground.
Fiz:*laughs* If you want this belt, you are going to have to work for it, kiddo. *laughs*
Chris clinches his fist in the dirt that he was thrown into. He stands to his feet and stares a burning hole into the face of Fiz.
Chris:It's not about the damn belt, you sick bastard.
Fiz:*laughs* Come on, now. Why so-
COCONUTSTRIKEMOTHA F*****!
Fiz eats the move and gets knocked clean out. Chris kneels on one knee next to his downed opponent. He grabs the EurAsian Title and puts it on his shoulder. As he stands, Haven runs outside to see the scene of Chris over Fiz with the belt now proudly returned to its rightful owner.
Doctor:He’ll make a full recovery. Just make sure he gets plenty of rest.
Steve has duct tape over his puncture wound as he sits in a wheelchair. Chris stands proudly behind him with the EurAsian Title draped over his shoulder. On his arm, is the love of his life, Astrid. Haven and Giles are standing across from them as the doctor takes his leave.
Giles:We’ve got a replacement vehicle for you out front.
Astrid:Thank you.
Giles nods and prepares to leave, but he stops.
Giles:Oh, and Chris.
Chris:Yes?
Giles:I’ll be looking forward to who you face this upcoming round. I may no longer work for WZCW, but I’m still a big fan.
Chris smiles as Giles nods and leaves. Chris looks at Haven and extends a hand for a shake. Haven responds by holding out his arms for a hug. Chris obliges. After the embrace, the two stand opposed and shake hands.
Haven:It’s good to know that WZCW is in safe hands in my absence. The place can always use a hero.
Chris:I’m not a hero, Haven. I’m just trying to be a better man.
Chris smiles as he returns behind the wheelchair that houses Steve.
Haven:Good luck this round, and for whatever lies ahead.
Chris smiles and nods as Astrid does the same. The pair push Steve and exit down the hallway as Haven smiles like a proud father.
Ramparte: "I can't have it happen to me again. It was embarrassing enough the first time."
The Catalyst thumbed through a ragged book, searching for a specific page. The room was alive with an orange glow; an altar leaned against a wall in front of him. That evening he wore an ebony cloak with silver cords around his waist.
Morley: "I have no idea why I am here and Mr. Mussel isn't, sir."
Ramparte's butler scratched his backside, clearly uncomfortable.
Ramparte: "Flex will not be joining us this evening. He is off on a date with Svetlana. What we are going to do is much more interesting."
Morley: "I don't know if I agree. Surely being with a woman is a better evening than doing whatever this is."
Ramparte: "Hush. The ritual is about to begin."
The tag team champion sat the book down. He lifted a bowl full of red liquid off of the altar and over his head. Incense burned in all corners of the room; rosemary, sandalwood, lavendar, and dragon's blood. The Catalyst turned to each corner, reciting an incantation that was from the tome.
Ramparte: "Rosemary to remember what it was like facing Him...
Rosemary to remove my jealousy that was so grim..."
With each burning scent, he turned and spoke.
Ramparte: "Sandalwood to protect me against the unknown...
"Sandalwood for the loss, that hole in my career is now sewn..."
"Lavendar for happiness in seeing Him again..."
"Lavendar for attraction, I am to be a friend..."
"Dragon's Blood for courage if I must face Him once more..."
"Dragon's Blood is to remove all doubt this Round, and to shake it at its core..."
Morley rolled his eyes. Ramparte didn't see him. He tilted the bowl and drank the crimson fluid with gusto. A dribble escaped and rolled down his chin. It went unnoticed. What it did was give him a vision of last year.
Ascension Anarchy 5 said:
Holmes applies Aristocracy Reigns, a camel clutch! Ramparte has nowhere to go to the ropes, as Keith Morse checks to see if Ramparte will submit. Ramparte screams out, trying to keep fighting, but finally submits, which causes the crowd to give a standing ovation to Steven Holmes
*Ding, Ding, Ding*
Steven releases the hold, to the approval of the crowd.
Anderson: Here is your winner by submission... Steven Holmes!
Ramparte: "Y-yes. I'll be okay. There is a reason why we are here, Morley. There's a reason why Flex can not join us this evening. I have been dreading this Roulette Round thing, I admit it. Everyone else is so gung ho on the accursed thing but they do not know the misery I knew that evening...
To meet your idol and he nearly rips your arms and torso apart..."
The Catalyst shivers, and a tear starts to form in his eye.
Ramparte: "If ever there was a man I truly admired more than Everest, it is Steven Holmes. The charm...the regal composure...he is a damn legend, Morley. And he is rumored to fight this round. I don't want his opponent to be me again, I don't think I can take that."
He clutched to his heart dramatically.
Morley: "I...had no idea you were such a big fan of his, sir."
Ramparte: "You're damn right I am! I don't care if I have to face Dorian Slaughter in a Cattle Prod Match! I can give a rat's ass if Constantine and Live Mas team up to take me on in a Handicap! As long as I don't have to look across the ring and see his royal chin."
Morley: "Never pegged you as a fanboy. Maybe you'll face Eve Taylor, your stablemate? Surely you'd rather face off against Holmes."
Ramparte: "I didn't think this through. Hold on- we're going to do this all over again."
A Few Hours Later...
Morley: "So that's Steven Holmes, Eve Taylor, Flex Mussel, Team Russia, Backstage Bob, Everest, Titus, Ty Burna, Barrett Stratton, Hades, Sebastian Copeland, Katie Shepard, Mikey Stormrage, and Live Mas for that matter, Apostles of Chaos, Harrys, Amber Warren, Jonathan Hyada, and Kagura Ohzora. Is that all the people we're casting spells for so you don't have to face them this round?"
Ramparte: "Yes. I do believe those are the only people I don't wish to quarrel with at this time."
Morley: "And Max Steele?"
Ramparte: "Well, yeah he goes without saying. Now if this spell worked, none of those people should be my opponent. We have this down, Morley I thank you for humoring me on this."
Morley: "I'm just going to pretend this didn't happen while I go put on some tea."
Ramparte: "You do that, good friend."
With the room to himself, he took off the robe and put out the candles.
"Don't forget..."
Ramparte: "Pardon?"
"Don't forget what you are...you are not this...this Cerberus..."
Ramparte: "Well, this is taking a weird turn. Who goes there??"
"Look down..."
He did. At his feet was the retractable cane Flex had given to him to commemorate their one year anniversary as a team. The wolf head didn't move. What it did was talk.
"You don't need them....You need me, Alice...together we can pave a road of enlightenment....an age of new found hedonism..."
Ramparte: "I really am going nuts. Maybe I need to see a shrink before it affects Cerberus."
The cane went quiet. He picked it up and carried it out of the room.
A big boot connects to the jaw of Noah Ryder. Everything seems to slow down as he stumbles back, not appearing to be in any control of his body. He falls through the ropes, but he catches himself and springs back up, knocking Howard down with a clothesline. In one fluid motions he picks Howard up and whips him into the corner.
This is it. Tell the world Noah Ryder has arrived in WZCW.
Noah runs towards Howard with a big boot. Howard ducks down and a bell rings, a different kind of bell as Howard low blows him. Seconds later he sends up flat on his back. 1... 2... Noah kicks out.
Not like that. Come on Noah, get up.
Howard doesn't let Noah back up as he quickly locks in an Anaconda Vice. The move puts immense pain on Noah's injured left shoulder.
Oh my god. It hurts so much! I can't give up, I... I...
But the pain is too much, Noah taps and the bell rings. Howard celebrates and Noah buries his face into the mat.
I wish I could just forget this day.
----------
Backstage after the show is over Noah is alone in the locker room, still sitting in his ring gear. Head down with a towel blocking his face, he doesn't even notice Steven approaching him.
Steven: Leonard, you can't keep beating yourself up about this.
Ryder:And why can't I.
Didn't Howard beat you enough already?
Noah rips the towel off and stares angrily at Steven. He then calmly throws the towel at his face and lowers his head again.
Sorry, I figured a joke might lighten the mood.
It was a bad joke.
It was.
Steven sits down beside Noah and waits from him to speak.
You know, you only get one chance to make a good first impression. I was given an opportunity like no other, an Elite X title match in my first match. I know I wrestled well out there. I know I eliminated Bruce Irwin and I was the reason the champion was eliminated. I know I did well, but I still lost. My first match in WZCW and it goes down as a loss.This team called Cerberus, they won their first match and it was for the Tag Team Titles. Some guy named Dorian Slaughter, who I've never met before, he just won the WZCW Title in his debut. How am I going to keep up with those guys? I'd kill for a victory over somebody like Matt Tastic. Right now though, I feel like I'd have a hard time beating someone like Johnny Scumm.
Noah lowers his head and Steven stares off in the distance, appearing both frustrated and sympathetic, while also trying not to laugh.
Leonard, there's something I need to tell you.
Suddenly Steven's phone rings. He looks down to see who it is.
Hang on one minute okay Leonard. I need to take this call.
Steven pats Noah on the shoulder and leaves the room while answering the phone. Noah stands up and quickly changes out of his ring gear. Suddenly Bob the backstage worker appears.
Bob:Hey Noah, we're about to hit up this bar called Xiu. You want to come with?
Sure, I could use a drink or two. Just let me grab my stuff.
Noah throws everything in his bag and flings it over his shoulder. Bob claps his hands and holds the door open for Noah.
So, is this place in Chinatown?
Bob gives Noah a puzzled look and then leads him out. Moments later Steven walks in through the opposite door.
Leonard...... Leonard?
Steven looks frantically around and then leaves the room.
----------
醒来 (Wake up)
The end of a wooden broom pokes near the eye of a passed out patron. The eye opens up and suddenly looks around frantically. Noah Ryder is leaned over a wooden bar and suddenly sits straight up.
你在这里干什么 (What are you doing here)
The man startles Noah, who falls out of his chair. He stumbles up, still drunk from the night before.
Where am I? How did I get there?
哦，你一定是从昨晚的摔跤手。你欠我的 500 万日元。(Oh, you must be wrestler from last night. You owe me five million yen.)
I'm sorry, I gotta get out of here.
嘿回来。嘿! (Hey come back. Hey!)
Noah stumbles out of the bar. He looks around at Beijing and realizes that he is incredibly lost with no idea where he is. The bartender exits the building and Noah makes a mad break for it, cutting through some traffic. Noah rounds a corner to safety and reaches in his pocket. He is relived that he still has his cell phone.
I gotta call Jessica. She will know what's going on.
Noah frantically dials her number and a man answers.
Leonard, thank god it's you.
Who is this?
Leonard it's Steven.
Steven, why do you have Jessica's phone?
Leonard, I'll explain later. Where are you?
No I'll just speak to Jessica first.
Before Steven can say anything else, Noah hangs up the phone. He then walks back around the corner and right into to waiting police officers, who take him into custody.
----------
Noah is sitting in a holding cell. He has his head down low with a dejected look on his face. The cell door opens and a female police officer stands there.
诺兰先生。你保释已过帐。(Mr. Nolan. Your bail has been posted)
Noah stands up slowly, not sure what he's supposed to do. The officer speaks in perfect english.
Mr. Nolan. Your bail has been posted. Please come with me.
Noah follows the police office out of his cell and down and hallway. They go into a lobby where Steven is waiting. Noah doesn't say a word to Steven while they leave the building. They hop into a cab and Noah breaks the silence.
Where am I?
Beijing, China.
And how did I get there when I remember going to bed at home?
It's a very long story, one I've wanted to tell you for sometime now. Do you think you can stay awake for a 13 hour flight?
----------
Both men are back at Noah's apartment. The safe has been cracked open and papers lay scattered across the table. The TV shows one of the many videos left inside the safe. Steven stops the video and turns to Noah.
I'm glad you didn't try to explain is back in China.
It would come off as very farfetched.
So I'm a freak.
Leonard, you're not a freak.
Then what am I Steven? I'm the guy who can't even remember what happened to me the night before. I can't even retain a simple fucking memory, like my first WZCW match. God I understand why I smoked during this.
I do like the old Leonard though.
I'm sure you do, I'm sure everybody fucking likes him. Gullible kid who doesn't know his own strengths and weaknesses, who can't remember a thing so you could play the same tricks on him over and over.
Noah reaches for one of Stevens smokes. He lights it up and takes a long drag and then puts it out in disgust of himself.
Would you like me to leave this out for you in the morning?
No, I don't. For what it's worth, I thank you for showing me this, but I'm not going to change what I've been apparently telling myself I want. I'm sure I am happier without this knowledge.
I'm very sorry I wasn't there last night. It's all my fault.
It wasn't, I took out what happened at Unscripted too hard on myself. I think maybe I somehow need to remind myself not to get too down on life, somehow anyway.
Noah gets up and heads over to his bedroom. He stops and turns back.
Thank you Steven, for everything.
Steven nods his head and Noah enters his room. He walks over to his dresser and writes something down on his notepad before turning off the lights.
----------
Weeks later at Celtic Park in Glasgow, Scotland, Noah Ryder is backstage in his ring gear jumping rope. Stacey Madison approaches him requesting an interview. Noah drops the ropes and smiles at her while introducing himself.
Madison:Ladies and Gentleman, standing next to me at this time is WZCW newcomer Noah Ryder. Noah, tonight WZCW begins the roulette rounds where every match is decided at random. What are you hoping your match will be this weekend? Is there an opponent you wish to fight? And what can we expect from Noah Ryder?
A title match. And the very best. I know that I'm new here and that I have a lot to prove to everyone backstage, be they somebody brand new or somebody who's been here for several years. The best way to do that is so take on the very best, and certainly if there was a title on the line that would be just icing on the cake for me. I've held many titles in my lifetime, but to get one here and to get the opportunity to so early in my career would really put me on the map in WZCW and let everyone here know that Noah Ryder has arrived. Regardless of the match or the opponent, what everyone can expect from Noah Ryder is this, that I'm hard hitting and that I never give up.
Noah holds up both his forearms, showing two new tattoos running along them reading, "Don't Get Down" and "Never Give Up"
I know in this business you should take nothing for granted and everything can be taken away from you in an instant. I haven't experienced anything quite like that yet, but what I have to do to make sure that doesn't happen is to stay ready and focused, don't let the beatings and the losses get me down, and never give up on my dreams. I'm here to one day win the WZCW Title, and this weekend, whether my opponent is Matt Tastic, John Constantine, Chris K.O., Johnny Scumm, Mickey Stormrage, Krypto, or Logan Burnside, I'm going to go out there and fight like there's no tomorrow and show them all that Noah Ryder belongs here.
Noah Ryder picked up his jump rope and leaves a puzzled Stacey Madison behind.
The now former World Heavyweight Champion did not have a good weekend. As the first sentence implies, he lost at the Unscripted PPV to Dorian Slaughter. Matt no longer holds the coveted top prize of pro wrestling. For all the talk. For all the hype, Matt fell short in the end. Matt did his best. But on that night, Dorian was better.
It was quite a consuming loss. Matt was not happy. He loved being World Champion. All the perks. All the responsabilities. But unlike how Dorian predicted, Matt lost and the world continued to spin. As far as Matt was concerned, Ragnarok happened only in his mind. Now he has to get out of the rubble in his mind and get back on track. Life still goes on. And so does the career of The Invincible One. Even if he took a hard fall.
With Unscripted gone by, the next event is the Roulette Rounds. Where absolutely anything can happen. Well, anything but a direct rematch for the World Heavyweight Championship that is. Matt can't invoke his rematch clause. The schedule of the shows threw that curve ball at him. Any chance of becoming a 3 time Champion now falls on the luck of the draw. Matt is at a loss. Not depressed. Not distraught. Just at a loss. He has no clue what to do now. How to go about his title loss. He's supposed to be the face of the company. He can't just lash out. But at the same time, its hard to keep frustrations pinned down. Even at the face of a fair loss. It's not a matter of hating the person who beat him. Or a matter of feeling he was screwed. Just frustrations. Everyone gets them.
======On a bus heading to the airport in China=========
Matt sits by a window. Staring blankly ahead. Not being World Champion meant he couldn't get private transportation. Though that doesn't really matter to him. He's used to public transport and it was rather silly that only the World Champion got a fancy ride off China. Mikey sits right next to him and turns over. He looks at the brooding former champ. Matt tries to ignore him knowing something silly is coming. But a catlike grin sneaks out of Mikeys face. Matt can't help but ask.
Matt:The hell are you looking at me like that?
Mikey just keeps on staring. His smile is practically coiling around his cheeks.
Matt:WHAT?
Mikey:So that's what it feels like? Haha. I like it.
Matt:What the hell are you talking about?
Mikey: I won. You lost.
Matt goes from annoyed to just plain pissed off. Mikey began to grill him. The tables had turned and Mikey just rubs the salt in the wound.
Matt: You.... You prick! Screw you!
Mikey: Haha! I'm just messing with you. You'll get it back. You did it before. You can do it again.
Matt relaxes knowing Mikey is right. Ultimately, Matt can regain the title. It's just a matter of how. Matt reassures his best friend. He stretches his hand out for a high five and smirks at his compadre. Mikey glees at the thought of cheering up his mate and indulges in the high five. But as the hand comes down.....
*Thwap!!!*
Matt takes it out of the way and smacks Mikey upside the head.
Matt: Hahahaha. I know that, bonehead. It's a matter of how.
Mikey's eyes water. He looks angrily at Matt but can sense that Matt isn't worried that he lost. Just that he has no real clue what to do now. The Roulette Rounds stop any chance for a rematch.
Mikey: So what will you say on camera about the loss?
Matt:I don't know.
=======The Plane=======
Thousands of feet in the air, the boys fly off to Puerto Rico. Much closer than the States before they fly back out for the next set of shows. Matt tries to sleep. Meditating on the eternal question of "What's Next". But something's bothering him.
Mikey: ♪'Cause baby, now we got bad blood
You know it used to be mad love
So take a look what you've done
'Cause baby, now we got bad blood, hey!♪
Matt's always been more of a metalhead. So hearing the pop song coming out of Mikey's mouth just deterred Matt's confused mood into solid anger. Still though. He didn't want to make any wrong moves among the crowd clearly looking on at Mikey's bad audition for Airplane Idol.
Matt:Mikey, the plane is landing in five minutes.
Mikey: ♪Hey! I can't take it back, look where I'm at!
We was on D like DOC, remember that?
My TLC was quite OD, ID my facts
Now POV of you and me, similar Iraq
I don't hate you but I hate to critique, overrate you
These beats of a dark heart, use basslines to replace you
Take time and erase you, love don't hear no more
No I don't fear no more, better yet respect ain't quite sincere no more♪
Matt:I said the plane is touching down in less than five minutes, take your headphones off.
Mikey heard none of it.
Mikey: ♪Oh, it's so sad to
Think about the good times
You and I
'Cause baby, now we got bad blood
You know it used to be mad love
So take a look what you've done
'Cause baby, now we've got bad blood, hey!
Now we got problems
And I don't think we can solve 'em
You made a really deep cut
And baby, now we got bad blood, hey!♪
Matt stuck his finger to Mikey's side to stop the annoying singing as everyone was staring at the mad man. Matt wasn't in the mood for any attention. He didn't want to face anyone asking if he was mad about losing the title.
Mikey:What the hell was that all about?And why is everyone looking at me?
Matt shook his head.
Matt:You have been singing at the top of your lungs for the last half an hour. Besides the plane is about to touch down and we have to catch a cab to my grandpa's as soon as we touch down.
Matt covered himself up with his hoodie. He wasn't really in the mood to be questioned by potential fans in his own home. Mikey put his phones back on and a hat as the duo went to get their bags. As they stood there. Mikey once again shoots off a cheshire grin at Matt. Who tries to ignore it. Knowing it's just trouble. Not that it stops Mikey.
Mikey: Looks like you packed light. Did you forget something back in China? Maybe something to hold up your pants, like a belt?
Matt just got annoyed and shoved hard enough that he knocked Mikey onto the luggage carrier. Mikey just enjoyed the ride. He's like a little kid sometimes. Matt couldn't help but laugh. Again, frustration is not a bad thing. Matt can put it aside. It's still there.
Matt:Come on, our taxi is outside.
Mikey just keeps spinning on the belt. The TSA eventually shows up and orders him out. The two head to their taxi before Mikey asks.
Mikey: So Matt, do you know how you'll address the loss yet?
Matt ponders for a moment as he mounts the luggage.
Matt:No, I don't. I'm too busy amazed by the fact that there is a taxi capable of taking us to the middle of nowhere.
==========At the house===========
Matt and Mikey have crashed at Granpa Tastic's house and were playing games. But Mikey got hungry. Not wanting to eat from what was being cooked, he marched out to Taco Bell. Matt on the other hand, sat with his granpa as the two ate some rice and beans with steak.
Matt:Oh, well. Mikey's loss.
Granpa:So, mijo. What's next? What will you do now without the World title?
Matt: Not a clue, really. I can't just ask for a rematch this time. The Roulette Rounds keep me from doing it and then there's the fact that Constantine never got his rematch. I fear this may be the end for now as far as me in the main event scene.
Granpa: You mad about losing?
Matt:I-ah. I-I don't know either.
Granpa:What?
Matt: I guess I am mad I lost. But at the same time, I don't want to come off as some sore loser. I don't want to say I respect Dorian. Truth is I really don't. He's a dick. But I just have this guilt that I just have to be this uber babyface for the sake of the company. Most people see me as the face of WZCW. I feel that if I say just one thing that makes me sound bitter or of the sort, I'm gonna get that label of "oh, what a whiner".
Granpa:You got to where you are by being you. No one else. If people don't like it, that's a shame. Because a loss is something everyone has to deal with at some point. What matters most is how you get back up and what you do next.
Matt:Thanks. Something will come to me.
Matt gets up as his mind clears. He begins to put his thoughts together. How he'll respond to his title loss. He goes to get a drink as it comes to mind. He turns to the kitchen--
*BANG!!*
Matt is struck in the face! Mikey comes into the room. Taco Bell bag over his face and a broom in his hand.
Mikey: I've defeated Fefnir!! I'm finally the World Heavyweight Champion!! Suck it, Matt. Make fun of me now, pendejo!!
=========The Room===========
It's extremely late at night. Everyone sleeps peacefully. But Matt is in his room watching TV. Holding a bag of ice over his head after Mikey hit him in a drug addled fit. But Matt realizes what he must say. How he will address things. He turns his TV off and heads for the counter. He places his phone on it and sets it to record a message.
Matt: WZCW Universe. This is Matt Tastic. The former World Heavyweight Champion. Now I know what you're thinking. My reign finally came to an end. I hit the snag and fell off the tracks.
How does Matt feel about this?
Is he bitter?
Is he angry?
Is he frustrated?
I know what you'd think.
He shouldn't be mad. He had his shot.
He shouldn't be bitter. He lost fair and square.
He shouldn't be frustrated. It was his rules.
And you know what? Those are all true fact. I did lose. Fairly. To my own set of rules. But I also am bitter. I also am frustrated. Is it at Dorian Slaughter? No. Just in general. Because now this means I must start all over. Like a house of cards. Stacked to the top and knocked down before it's finished. I know I lost fairly, but I can't get over the fact that I could do more. That I can be more. Dorian was the better man at Unscripted. But people of The 'Z. It's a solid fact. I can beat him. I am a 4 time Mayhem Champion. A former Eurasian and Elite X Champion. I am the winner of the 2014 Lethal Lottery and a 2 time World Heavyweight Champion. In my heart of hearts I know I am the absolute best this company has to offer. And as such I will Deliver Kickassery as such.
The Roulette's are here. And every year, we spin the wheel and make the deal. We're left in total darkness as to who we fight. And for what we fight. I'm coming off a major loss. Maybe the biggest in my career. Again, I know I lost fairly. But I need to get back up on my feet and show that that misstep will not happen again. That my success wasn't a mere fluke. That I am in fact the Best Damn Thing Ever. So this is to whoever dares. Whoever has the gall. Whoever has the cojones to stand across from me in the squared circle days after I lost my World Heavyweight Championship. Know that I will not be bringing my A-Game. I will not be bringing my absolute best. I will not be bringing the same old Matt Tastic. No. I'll be bringing so much more to that ring. Because as everyone in the locker room better damn know well enough by now, I am the Super Saiyan Of Pro Wrestling. And when I get beat, I just get stronger. And if the me of yesterday was a 2 time World Heavyweight Champion, the me of tomorrow will shatter world records of Kickassery. So as you stand in that ring, don't make me any more frustrated than what I already am. I will climb to the top of the mountain again. I have no clue how. I have no idea when. But I will. And the Roulette shows will be the very first step. I am the most decorated wrestler in this company and I guarantee you I have no plans on slowing down. I have no intentions of stepping out. I have no grasp on what the hell the word "Quit" means.
I faced Ragnarok dead on and even though I didn't stop the end of the world, I am still alive and kicking. Ready to keep fighting. And ready to keep reminding people why I'm the freakin' Invincible One. So whether it's at Meltdown Madness or Ascension Anarchy, know that if you stand opposite me, you won't just receive Kickassery. You'll just be the first on Matt Tastic's new list of wrestlers beaten on his road back to the top. And if you happen to be a Champion. Well thank you. As I go from a record setting 8 time champion. To a 9 time one.
And as for the fans..... Live Mas.
The gauntlet has been laid. What's next for Matt Tastic?
It was roughly 6:00 in the evening. The Tokyo National Museum was closed to the general public for the day, but the executive offices remained open until 10:00. Ayamo Miyamoto, the curator over the ancient texts division, was currently trying to finish up that weeks paperwork. The museum was quiet. Suddenly there was a knock on her office door.
Strange
Who is it?
Maybe it was one of her fellow curators. What she did not expect was her door to be violently pushed open, and three men dressed in black suits to enter her room.
Miyamoto let out a shriek, and tried to notify security, but the man in the lead stopped her.
I wouldnt do that, Miyamoto-san.
Who are you people? she asked, visibly shaken. You cant just barge into peoples offices.
The men behind him had their sleeves rolled up, and Miyamoto could see many elaborate tattoos branded on their arms reminiscent of gangsters.
Oh no...
We do have that right, said the lead man as he advanced, trapping Miyamoto at her desk.
He leaned over and placed his hands on it.
You see our boss is one of the main beneficiaries of this museum. And you have a piece of literature that he is most interested in obtaining.
Miyamoto was beginning to sweat. She was fully aware that the Yakuza had wanted the Shinto Ritual Book. Numerous times the organization had approached the Museum. But never had they been so violent in their approach.
Im aware, she replied.
The book was due to be returned by the end of the June.
That was one week ago, said the man.
And were here to collect.
He motioned to the man to his right, who drew an axe and slammed it down head first onto the womans desk with the sharp edge pointed diagonally at her head.
Oh crap
On the inside Miyamoto was panicking, but she knew how to handle these matters. The Yakuza were very persuasive in their methods, but they werent usually violent unless they had to be. And she wasnt about to give them a reason to be, so she kept her composure.
The book isnt here, she responded bluntly.
We are aware of this, said the man as he waved his hand dismissively.
Miyamoto cocked an eyebrow in surprise as the man drew a briefcase and set it down on the table. He opened it to reveal a giant sum of paper currency.
Twelve million yen to be paid in exchange for the book, that was the deal correct?
Miyamoto nodded her head.
My boss is a busy man. And he doesnt take too kindly to being double crossed
And the Tokyo Museum does not have a reputation of swindling money from its charitable donators Mister
Chun
She nodded. ...Chun-san.
Miyamoto was doing the best she could to smooth talk her way out of the situation, but it was clear that Chun and his men were not leaving. He motioned to his man, and he gripped the axe and turned it sideways so that the blade was now facing inwards.
Oh? And how can we be so sure of your word, Miyamoto-san? The deal was supposed to take place a week ago. And here we are, nearly in the middle of July and the book is nowhere to be found.
Miyamoto quickly began to regale the tale of how the museum loaned the book to Dr. Housman of the United States, but with some additional modifications to sugarcoat the white lie that Derrick-san didnt actually have the book with him anymore when the man to her right suddenly picked up and swung the axe on her desk, splitting the mahogany. Miyamoto yelped and leaned by against the wall like she was suddenly burned by fire.
Do not try to play us for fools, Miyamoto-san, Chun said gruffly.
We know Dr. Housman is no longer in possession of the book. Our associates caught up to him in India.
He grabbed a chair and sat down across from the frightened woman. Do not underestimate our networking skills. We would not be here if we didnt feel the necessary actions had to be taken.
Miyamoto was almost afraid to ask, but she had to anyway. Out of morbid curiosity or rather her own self preservation, since she was the person currently being threatened.
And those actions are?
Chun held up his hand, None if you choose to comply. But if you dont then youll face dismemberment.
Miyamoto swore. The man to her right grabbed the axe and gripped it with both hands. He was poised ready to use it at a moments notice.
Im going to give you a choice, Miyamoto-san.
He grabbed the briefcase and took out 6 bundles and set them on the table.
I am willing to offer you one million yen for the correct information leading to the book, because lets be honest, we both know that Dr. Housman gave it to someone having verified that you knew about the trade
Damn that Dr. Housman! He sold me out, Miyamoto snarled internally.
or well simply take one of your limbs as payment for telling us this invaluable information. Which one, I have not decided.
It was a no brainer, to her really. As quick as a cat Miyamoto snatched up the money and proceeded to tell Chun all about Kagura and how she came to get possession of the book. She had initially resolved to protect the girl, but decided her own well being was more important.
Chun nodded, satisfied with the explanation, and he and his men left the office.
Consider the money to be a donation, Miyamoto-san. Have a nice day, he said with a mockingly morbid smile.
Miyamoto gasped a sigh of relief as she sunk into her desk, thanking the Kami to be out of the Yakuzas crosshairs. She now needed sake.
Lots of sake.
-----
Following on the heels of our heroine Kagura as she travelled from Beijing to Glasgow, the Yakuza now knew exactly whom they were targeting. While it was an unlikely story to some of the members of the sect that a girl as busy as Kagura could come to hold possession of the book, that doubt was erased as she was spotted with the book in China. And so a plan was hatched to get the book from her as she travelled to Scotland.
Because with all the traveling she did, getting the book would be that much harder, and they werent actually aiming to hurt the girl. Yet.
Kagura and her mentor Sasuke Gozaburo were doing some sightseeing. It was always his reward to take her once she finished her training. Despite coming up on the losing end at the PPV against Eve Taylor, Kagura was still in high spirits. Her life kinda felt like someone had set the cruise control and she was just drifting along. Her motto was Train hard. Fight well. Lose nothing.
There would be other title opportunities for her. But as of this moment all she was really interested was fighting stronger opponents, which is why she really liked the idea of the Roulette Rounds once they had been explained to her. She could face potentially anyone this round; from Eve Taylor again, to the new Elite X champion James Howard, or even the World champion Dorian Slaughter. She could find herself wrestling inside a cage, or climbing ladders once again. Or maybe a huge six man tag team match with no rules. The possibilities were too numerous to count. That was why she had decided to just go with the flow, as the expression was.
Sasuke was happy for her though. He didnt care if she was winning or not just as long as she continued to give training her all and never lost sight of her passion.
The pair stopped into a pub to eat and have some drinks, but Sasuke quickly found himself getting a bit tipsy as he ran into old friend Jack Cohen, as the alcohol in Scotland was quite good by his own admission. Kagura wasnt much of a drinker, and with her mentor chatting at the bar she disappeared to do some sightseeing of her own.
She had her bag, which carried her wallet, passport, cell phone, work license, and the fated book she had officially inherited from Dr. Housman in India. It had been weeks since she was the good doctor in person but they spoke on the phone often.
It was hard for her to keep a low profile, but when Derrick had called her suddenly to warn her of potential spies she had decided to keep herself out of the limelight, except for contractual meetings of course. But this meant she no longer greeted fans before shows or signed autographs afterwards. And she didnt interact with them outside the shows either. She had blown off a few people, but not because she was being rude, but she was trying not to place her body in harms way just in case she was attacked.
She had taken a sightseeing bus downtown and was taking pictures with her camera when her cell phone rang.
Hello,she replied in a cheerful tone.
Theyre on to you Kagura, replied a voice.
She was taken aback as it sounded like Dr. Housman.
Dr. Housman is that you?
Where are you?
Downtown Glasgow. Im sightseeing.
Where?
He sounded a little more desperate.
Uh, Kelvingroove Park
There was silence and then she heard the doctor swear. That wasnt a good sign.
Stay there.
It wasnt as much a request as it was a demand. If you see any local law enforcement, stay close to them.
And then the phone cut itself off. That was disturbing to say the least. She walked out of the park and was about to head back to the bus stop when a grey unmarked van stopped short beside her. Two men jumped out and tried to grab her, but she panicked and quickly fought them off. They didnt put up much of a fight and she quickly got away and ran to the opposite side of the street, but the van followed her. It took a few seconds for her brain to realize that these men were not Caucasian, but Asian.
On instinct she fled as quickly as she could in the opposite direction back towards the park, with the van in pursuit. With her adrenaline rushing she ducked and dodged under trees, through flowerbeds, and around pedestrians as the van gave chase. She saw the park entrance, where she was quickly trying to find any sort of law enforcement, when a sedan suddenly stopped in front of her. The door swung open and she heard a voice shouting at her to get in. She looked back at the van quickly closing in and out of instinct she close the former.
She looked up and was shocked to see Dr. Housman behind the wheel.
What are you doing here!?
He floored the gas as the car rocked down the street with the van in pursuit.
Ayamo Miyamoto ratted you out. The Yakuza paid her a visit a few days ago. Her associates contacted me.
What?
Its no longer safe for you to carry the book Kagura. I know your work schedule, so I came here as quickly as I could.
So it was the Yakuza. Gozaburo-san and I had our suspicions but we didnt know
Dr. Housman maneuvered the car around traffic as the van made attempt after attempt to ram them off the road. So far he was keeping them at bay, but he did not know the area, and traffic was getting thicker by the second.
The book is an artifact; a national treasure. It belongs in a museum for everyone to see. As a historian I cannot on my conscious give away something that belongs to the Japanese.
I see
He quickly turned down an alleyway and took out several traffic cones. Pedestrians cursed and leapt out of the way as he came out on the other side. They had lost the van for the moment, so they slowed and blended into the traffic on the other side.
There was something I forgot to mention - or really I didnt know - about the book.
What about it?
The book is cursed Kagura, he said bluntly.
She raised an eyebrow, cursed?
How so?
Im not sure. But the last bit of my research suggests that throughout history those that have performed ceremonies from the book have become cursed.
Kagura clutched her bag with the book inside.
In what way?
Possession
She titled her head.
The book was banned from use several centuries ago because the priests and priestess that performed the rituals within ultimately became possessed and met their end.
That cant be, she said in disbelief.
Maybe those that performed the rituals werent qualified?
No. According to lore Kami himself cursed the book as it was never meant to be viewed upon by human eyes. I suppose its descended from some sort of lost art.
Which Kami cursed the book?
Dr. Housman shook his head. I dont know.
And why the Yakuza could want it I havent the faintest idea.
The rest of the ride was enveloped by silence. Dr. Housman dropped her off at the stadium and she immediately sought refuge under law enforcement there. He was about to leave when he suddenly felt her arms wrap around her in a tight hug.
I dont want you to leave. I feel safe having you around.
He glanced down and smiled at her.
Sure.
-----
Sasuke heard about the ordeal later that evening. To say he was pissed would have been an understatement. Like the true father figure that he was he immediately reprimanded Kagura for her actions. Above everything else her safety came first. To hell with the goddamn book! However he shook Dr. Housmans hand like a man and thanked him for potentially saving the girls life.
It was time for him to take action in order to protect Kagura in his own way
Kenneth Banks, the owner of WZCW, was in Glasgow for the Roulette Rounds as they marked the beginning of the road to the Lethal Lottery, which in turn set the stage for the biggest night if the year Kingdom Come. It was WCZWs busiest months.
He had commandeered a make shift office at the Celtic Park stadium in Glasgow. And he unexpectedly heard a knock on his door.
Who is it?
Its Sasuke Gozaburo, may I enter?
He accepted, and Sasuke entered the office where Mr. Banks was seated behind a large desk with many files. No doubt he was reviewing the proceedings for that evenings show.
What can I do for you, Mr. Gozaburo?
Even though Banks was one of those men who generally viewed wrestling as an entrepreneurship and money making machine, he did have respect for the older wrestlers who paved the way for the men and women who fought today, so he held both Jack Cohen and Sasuke Gozaburo in high esteem.
Right. I dont really know how to say this, but I think Kagura has found herself in some hot water.
Oh, do tell?
Sasuke began to rehash the details behind Kagura obtaining this accursed book that she continually carried around to the best of his abilities. She had found the book in St. Louis. She had then talked to a Tokyo Museum curator in Japan. Next she had met up with the historian who had lost, and was studying the book in India. She had been in contact with him and was basically keeping the book safe since China. Finally she was very nearly abducted by, who they believed to be men associated with the Yakuza in Scotland.
Kenneth Banks sat in silence and absorbed the story. This wasnt what he was expecting to hear, and if true it was quite serious.
Above anything else I value Kaguras safety and the lives of the other performance athletes as well. I do not want this to escalate any further.
Does she still have the book?
Yes. However I fear that even if she gives the book back to the proper owners I feel whoever attacked her may target her again. The whole ordeal is a tangled mess.
Indeed. In legal terms Kagura is safe. As an employee of WZCW we will take action against anyone that may try and harm one of our performers. Surely whoever attacked her must feel the same way.
And what if she doesnt surrender the book? I cannot force her to do. Thats a decision that only she can make.
Yes. Such an action may potentially put other performers at risk.
So is this just merely something that we overlook?
Banks shook his head.
No. But at the same time we cant just let it sit and let the situation get out of hand either. A suspension would not work. In the best interests of Kaguras safety we can increase the number of security officers at venues. Weve done this before. I feel the safest place she could be is under the WZCW wing.
But how can you be sure? Sasuke asked.
I cant, said Mr. Banks.
But you can, cant you? Sounds to me that youve managed to keep her safe all this time. So the best person to ensure that WZCW remains the safest place for Kagura, would indeed be you Sasuke Gozaburo.
Sasuke seethed, just a little. But in the back of his mind he knew the man had a valid point.
So you think its alright if Kagura wrestles tonight?
I dont see why not? It is the Roulette Round. Who knows, maybe something will happen that will take her mind off the book, even if for second.
Youre a busy man Banks, so I wont keep you.
He stood and shook the mans hand. He believed in those words, that WZCW was indeed the safest place for Kagura, he just didnt know if he could trust them. Not yet. And if the burden was on him to keep Kagura safe then no Kami, spiritual entity, curse, or syndicated crime organization was going to stop him.
The crowd cheers as Garth Black comes out. He has a water bottle in his hand as he smiles out at the crowd.
Connor: Garth Black is the viewers choice! I cant wai-
Copeland: Look out!
Black feels himself being clubbed from behind as Johnny Scumm appears out of nowhere. The crowd boos as Scumm starts yelling at Black for taking his opportunity. Scumm picks Black up and flings him off the entrance stage to the concrete down below.
Connor: Oh my god!
Cohen: Scumm or bust!
The camera shows Mikey starting to get out of the ring to help Black, but he stops when security rushes out from the gorilla position. They grab Scumm and start pushing him back as medical personnel checks on Black down below. Vance Bateman comes out to survey the scene. He has a microphone in hand. Bateman looks down at the medics, and they give him a negative head shake.
*Click* - The scene from WZCW's most recent PPV, Unscripted closes off of the phone of Johnny Scumm, who's walking hand in hand with the woman he recently won back, Claire.
"Oh my god, have you SEEN this Claire?"
She needn't respond. He knew she'd seen it. She'd seen it live at the Unscripted event, then again when Johnny got her to watch the highlights. Hell, you've probably seen it more than enough times too! After that, he proceeded to watch it multiple times over the last few days. So yes, she'd seen it. This was probably the 40th time by now and it wasn't like the two were sat next to each other on the sofa. They were walking down the street and from out of nowhere, it was playing again.
"How many times are you going to show me that thing Johnny?"
"Well, until it gets boring! You know, attacking Garth Black was without a doubt my biggest stroke of genius yet. Hearing him hit the floor after I threw him off the stage was GLORIOUS!"
"You know, it was pretty sweet seeing you out there again, even if you didn't get the chance you were hoping for."
Scumm tilts his neck in disappointment and frustration. Even the mention that he didn't get to face Stormrage at his first PPV back in the business grates him to the bone.
"Yeah. Let's not bring that up again."
The two carry on down the street, discussing just what Scumm might have done to Mikey if he got his hands on him. Eventually, they reach somewhere they can stop to eat. Imagine tacky, decorated in tacky and that is exactly where they stopped.
"Hey look Johnny, why don't we stop here?"
"An American Diner? In America?"
"Well, it's food. You were the one complaining you wanted to eat so why don't we just stop here, grab something quick and get out before we hate it?"
"Fine."
The couple make their way into the diner, with it's red leather covered booths, the classic American car stuck in the centre of the room and the waiters and waitresses dressed up in clothes that were popular 40 years before they were even born. The two sit in the booth nearest the door, who wants to make the effort to move any further into an establishment like this one? As they sit down two males, both young adults walk in. They stand near Scumm as they survey the room for somewhere to sit, he immediately grabs out his phone & taps them on the back.
"Guys, have you seen this?!"
That video, again. The two men look in shock as Scumm laughs maniacally, practically in their faces. They don't speak as they move away to a table in the furthest corner.
"Oh come on, that was me! Didn't you see just how brilliant it was?!"
"Johnny, you really need to stop with that video of you & Black. Then again, seeing you hurt people just kind of gives me a thrill."
"I knew you liked it really. Right, what you having? Make it cheap and nasty."
Claire picks up a menu and starts reading through the list of foods available.
"Steak, ribs, waffles...ooh pancakes!"
"I fucking hate pancakes."
"Well, whether you like them or not, I'm going to have them."
At that precise moment, a spotty teen dressed in clothes two times bigger than they should be comes over to take the order.
"So, what can I get you?"
"I'll take the pancakes! With bacon & syrup."
"Steak. Bloody."
"Is that rare sir?"
"Bloody. Like the face of Garth Black."
The waiter doesn't know how to react in the moment, so takes the menus from the table.
"Yes, he means rare. Some people just like their food with a grudge."
"Thank you miss."
He makes his way from the table. Have you ever just wanted a bit of peace and quiet when you're ready to eat?
"So, J. What's up next on the cards?"
"I...honestly don't know."
"You're giving up again? So soon?"
"No, I didn't mean it in that way. I don't know who I'm facing, what show I'm on or what match I'm even in next week. Its the "Roulette Rounds". Surely you remember those? Fucking penguins."
See, Scumm had felt the spin of the wheel before. He had ended up teaming with Saboteur, taking on Baller & Overlast in a ridiculous Tuxedo Tag Match. He knew that these shows could bring out the most pathetic ideas in the history of wrestling and make him go through sheer idiocy to get to a win. But if it had to be done, it would be done. This time though it would be done without any penguins.
"No. Penguins."
Now, Claire has always found fun in Scumm's misfortunes. It's one of the things that makes them such a perfect couple. She stifles a laugh, thinking back 3 years to when the penguins got involved, but quickly goes back to looking stern.
"Yeah, you carry on laughing. Just because you find it funny doesn't mean it ever was."
"I love you really, Johnny."
"I love you too, little psycho."
"So, the wheel of misfortune. What are you expecting from it this time?"
"If I'm honest with you, nothing worth fighting for. Knowing all of my luck, Garth Black gets back in my path again and I take him down once more...what'll it be, the third time?"
There really is nothing you can do about the spin of the wheel, apart from have good luck as Scumm knows. He twiddles his thumbs, before beginning to smirk at his partner who's sat across the table from him.
"Then again, there could be gold on the horizon. Poor old Dorian Slaughter thinks that he's something to worry about. Sat before you is the real WZCW Heavyweight Champion. Put Slaughter in front of me and not only do I win gold, but I slaughter him. I take him down and out, just like th-"
Typical. Waiters always interrupt when you're getting to something good.
"Here's your food guys. Pancakes with bacon and syrup for the lady and for the gentleman, our rarest bloodiest steak. Enjoy."
"Thanks. Now Claire, as I was saying to you, it could be Slaughter."
"Johnny are you really going to choose talking over the food you've been waiting for the last few hours? Tuck in!"
A man truly loves his food. What a man hates, is when his food isn't made the way he wanted it. When you ask for a steak cooked rare, you expect it to be pink in the middle, to have the slight taste from the blood that still exists on the tip of your tongue. You don't want to struggle slicing through it, to attempt to chew on the lump of meat you shove in your mouth as it doens't go down the way the bloody, correctly cooked steak should.
"What the FUCK is this?! I asked for a steak cooked rare, lovely and bloody. I didn't ask for a piece of old boot to chew on!"
So, as any extremely pissed off man would do, a complaint seems in order. Scumm whistles, signalling the waiter over to him.
"Get me the chef. Don't question me, do it right now."
Seeing visible annoyance on his customers face, the young man disappears through a set of swinging doors, leading to the kitchen. No more than 10 seconds later, a big man comes out through the same doors, with the cowering waiter behind him.
"I take it you're the chef?"
Of course he was the chef, dressed in white from top to toe. Well, when I say white I mean "white with a smattering of grease" of course.
"Yes sir. Is there something you need my help with?"
Scumm stands up. Claire buries her head in her hands suddenly.
"I ordered this steak, cooked as rare and as bloody as they come. What you've given me, is the opposite. I feel like I'm chewing through a condom left on a barbeque."
"Come on now sir, it can't be that bad."
"Can't be that bad?! Are you insane?"
If you don't know Scumm well enough, then I should explain that questioning him isn't the right thing to do. Seeing as he's standing, he takes it to his full advantage. Grabbing the chef by the collar of his whites, he thrusts his face down into the plate, shattering the china the steak sat on. As the chefs face looks up to scream in sheer agony, lacerations on his cheeks and around his eyes have opened up from the shattered plate slicing through his skin. Blood begins to adorn the table and the plate of food that Scumm had ordered.
"Oh look! Now it's got enough blood on it!"
A bad joke can have the right effect, if it's rightly timed. Needless to say, nobody else in that diner was laughing. Johnny Scumm however took it upon himself to find the entire situation hilarious, laughing at the injuries he'd caused the man who made one simple mistake.
"Who runs this place?! Seems like I can't even get good service here!"
"Johnny, leave it now! You've done enough damage and this is only going to get worse for you!"
A man in a shirt & tie eventually runs over to the scene, not needing to assess the damage as it lies in front of his face.
"Sir, please! Stop this madness at once!"
"If he had cooked it the way I wanted it, none of this would have happened. Now, I want you to apologise for making my dining experience such a disgrace tonight."
"You want ME to apologise? Have you not seen what you have caused, the fact you've beaten my one chef that's on duty tonight to a bloody pulp, yet you want me to apologise to you?! Sir, if you had asked in a civilised manner for us to cook you a new steak, then we would have happily accomodated for our mistake! Now, we have a chef that is unable to work, a table that's dented meaning that I'm going to have to buy a new one and along with that I have a diner full of guests that aren't ever going to come back in case some madman flips because his food is slightly overcooked!"
"You're calling me a madman? You're blaming this all on me? Well, maybe it is my fault. Maybe agreeing that I eat in a diner run by some of the most incompetent, idiotic people I've ever laid eyes on was my mistake, yes. Now, I'm going to leave with my darling and we're going to never see you again."
"Sir, if you want to believe you're walking out of here without paying for your damage, you're mi-"
Big, big mistake. Rule number 1 would be to never question Johnny Scumm. Rule number 2, never tell him that he'll be doing something. Without a hesitation, Scumm lifts the manager into his arms, throwing him down on an empty table nearby. He crashes through and instantly becomes silent. Scumm looks down at the two bodies he's left, before reaching out his hand to Claire.
"What have you done, Johnny?"
She takes his hand as he helps her up from the seats. Claire had visibly forgotten just how dangerous her other half could be, she almost became afraid of him for a second herself.
"Let's get out of here now babe."
"Just take a minute. You see, I never got my food. Tonight has pushed me, people have stood in my way. You see, when you come to think about it, the roulette wheel is much like cooking the steak. You make a mistake like that prick there, laying on the floor and you're done for. You spin the wheel and it lands on something simple, like Logan McAllister, or even Garth Black. You know, that guy who can't ever seem to get one over on me? But you overdo it, you accidentally go to far and you get someone like me. You can't go back from that, you have to take it. But you can overcome it, you can beat it. Not me though, not Scumm. Once you take me on there is no going back and there isn't anyone winning but me."
"Only you could take what's just happened and turn it into something positive. It's...funny."
"At last. Something I've found to be hilarious has hit you in almost the same way."
The two start to head out, but as they go the wrestler's stomach reminds him that he's still longing to be fed. Grabbing what he can of the food left on Claire's plate, he bites into a sticky pancake, chewing it slowly and making a grimace as the taste disagrees with him. The couple leave the diner, swinging the door open hard, as Scumm spits pancake onto the floor and treads it into the pavement with his shoe.
James. James Dinah yelled down the corridor as James Howard returns to the backstage area, his freshly minted Elite X Championship belt slung over his shoulder. James she yells again, but he ignores her. He walks with intent towards the technicians room. As he reaches the door, a now sprinting Dinah finally catches up to him. James took a second look at his estranged wife. She had died her hair and for some reason she was wearing something resembling wrestling attire.
Why are you in tights? We have a son Dinah. James sneered as he knocked viciously on the technicians door. He looked Dinah up and down, her red hair had been dyed to a bright orange, and gold framed blast goggles serving as a headband. Gold hot-pants peeked through the gap in the black duster she wore like a cloak. Seriously Dinah? The fuck are you doing here? You made it pretty clear I wasnt supposed to pursue you any more when you took my son and moved out.
Dinah grabs James on the shoulder and spins him pushing his bare shoulder against the breezeblock. What do you mean when I left? You kicked me out to focus on this insanity when you lost to Chris KO and Im here for you always. If that means being on the road with you then so be it. As she finishes talking she realises the technicians door is now open and a tall heavily tattooed man wearing black latex gloves is clearing his throat. In the corner of the room is a large metal red tool chest.
Congratulations Howard he says sincerely as he holds his hands out for the belt. I gotta say youre one hell of a fighter. Shame you werent in the ring against Theron tonight.
Howard looks stone faced at the man. Thanks he says snidely. Not that it makes any difference, but now Im only missing one championship for the grand slam and the roulette rounds are going to be my chance to prove myself.
Dont you think you should think about your marriage? I need my husband back, I miss you, the real you. Dinah says with one hand on her husbands shoulder, her nails ever so slightly digging into the flesh.
Howard turns from the man carefully unscrewing the ElegANT name-plate and finding the freshly etched James Howard plate in the box with Bruce Irwin and Noah Ryder. Dinah, this is not a conversation we can have right now. The next shows are the roulette rounds and I have to be ready for anything, hell I could even face a woman for the first time in my career. I could be fighting Ty Burna or Armando Paradyse. I have to dedicate my entire life these next two weeks to being ready for anything and everything.
Dinah grips her husbands shoulder just a little tighter before standing and walking out of the room. You want to spar? You know where I am.
The technician looks at Howard and rolls his eyes as he finishes tightening the final screw into the title belt. Women huh?
Howard snatches the belt from the technicians hands almost pulling the man from his seat. Thats my wife youre talking about. He says through gritted teeth. Whats your name?
Bob. The technician says, now firmly seated in his chair and leaning back seemingly in the hope it will swallow him.
Well Bob, I suggest you get out of here right this second if you dont want to see why everyone in the locker room is scared of me. Bob looks confused for a moment and begins to stammer before seeing the manic look on Howards face and darting out of the door. Howard turns slightly and some small droplets of blood are forming on his shoulder.
"I can not hold him much longer, just give him the medicine!"
In a cold, dark hallway, a heavily locked room causes a major raucous. Sounds of a struggle permeate the hallway, causing for ghoulish yells to sound throughout the hallway. The unlit hallway is now filled with the sound of doors being pounded on. Screams of terror and madness fill the room, but are muffled by the padding on the walls. One room in particular houses a struggle; the very same room, which the screams for sedation can be heard. Leather straps can be heard, tightening around skin, as the screams become less vociferous, and eventually die to a dull, plaintive roar. Hurriedly, two orderlies slam the door on the room, and breathe a sigh of relief.
"Dude...when I say to give the patient a sedative, I need you to give the sedative immediately!" The older orderly, clearly irritated with his ward, barked out at his partner. His eyes glared at the man, with a fiery passion.
"Sorry...it's just...I've never seen a patient so...so..."
The older, orderly, who had been working for some time, softened his eyes. Knowingly, he nodded. "I know," he offered soothingly. "He is not your average patient. He's very strong...but you can't be afraid of him. There's a reason this patient has very strict orders."
"I know..."
"We need to do everything in our power to keep this patient sedate. Those were our orders, remember?"
The younger orderly nodded to himself, lamenting his job.
"It gets easier...somewhat..." The young orderly continued to look down, as the older one fiddled for the words to say. "Listen...this patient needs to stay here, and he needs to be kept in this condition. He isn't fit for the outside world."
"I always thought our job was to save lives..."
"Trust me... By keeping him here, we are..."
The younger orderly nodded his head once more, and took a big breath. He looked back to the patient's room, with a look of pity."My shift's almost up, anyway. Let's get out of here." As the two walked down the dark hallway, the same pounding sounds reverberated in the hallway. The incessant moaning of patients continued, screaming to be let out. In fact, the only quiet room was the one in which the orderlies had come out of. In that room, a bloodied carcass sat in a chair, barely conscious. The man had a large, unkempt beard, and large, bulging eyes. Barely conscious, the man breathed heavily. He tried, with all of his might, to free himself from the chair. But he was strapped in with leather ties; try as he might, the man could not free himself.
That man was Dorian Geigel... These were his nights, for the past year.
Dr. Zeus sat in his chair, just competent enough to know where he was, but not able to do anything about it. Ever since he had been shipped to this mental facility, these four walls were all he ever knew. He had no knowledge of the outside world. He had lost all sense of time, lost all sense of being. He barely recognized his own face, and the only thing he knew was the fear the men in white coats. Zeus rarely spoke, and when he did, it was often inaudible. But when he tried to speak, he could make out the word, "Ellie". He sat, spitting blood, and desperately tried to break his bindings. But Dr. Zeus was emaciated, barely even a frame beyond skin and bones. He teetered the line of consciousness once more, as trying to break his bindings exacted every ounce of strength from his body. There was no sleep in his entire year for Dr. Zeus...merely brief moments of unconsciousness, when Zeus would find himself three hours later, back in his room. But the moments being back in that room were a safe haven; for in the moments he was unconscious, he would return to the moments of his greatest failures. His inability to bring down Ty Burna, which resulted in his institutionalization. His inability to harness the power of The Beard, Amber Warren, and Fallout, to enact his greatest duty. His inability to defeat the forces of evil.
Mostly though, he thought of Ellie, and his inability to bring back Ellie. His inability to save his child. His inability to save the world from impending darkness.
"Ellie..."
Dr. Zeus passed out from the pain, and limply hung from his chair, blood dripping down his face.
Two hours later, Dr. Zeus regained consciousness. Rattled by the sounds of chain link, Zeus could feel his body tense. With any lingering amount of strength, Zeus tried to break the leather straps around his wrist. The clanging sound of footsteps drew closer. The men with white coats may be back...but why now? Maybe to finish the job? But why? Zeus attempted to break the bindings, as he heard the footsteps get closer. A chill fell over his body, realizing this very well may be the demon, Ty Burna. It was the only time he could recall feeling an aura so powerful. At this point though, Dorian welcomed death. If this were Ty, come to claim his soul...he would welcome it. No amount of torture performed by demons could ever compare to the torment of this cell. The inability to enact God's will was too much of a burden for Zeus. Perhaps, his only recourse was to offer his soul to Lucifer, as penance for his failings.
Dr. Zeus bowed his head, as he awaited the inevitable. Still, no person entered the room. No door opened, and the footsteps had ceased. Zeus kept his head bent for some time, before raising it again. When he did, he saw before him the source of power. A large man, in a fitted suit, stood before him, smoking his usual cigar. Zeus' blood boiled, as he looked up to see Alistair, standing before him.
"Been a while, hasn't it, boy?"
Zeus lashed out, forgetting the bindings around his wrist. He looked to his arms, and tried to free himself once more, but couldn't. Alistair stepped towards Zeus, looking him in his bloodshot eyes. "Boy, they really did a number on you, huh?" Zeus lunged out to Alistair, finally almost able to reach the lapels of his suit. Alistair took a step back, and brushed the dust off his suit. "Easy now...really, is this the time for hard feelings?" He decided to light his cigar again, and sat down next to Dorian, in an adjacent chair. Zeus' eyes zeroed in on Alistair, never relenting in their fury. Alistair puffed on his cigar, and was quiet for some time. "Dorian, I'm here to offer peace...To offer you the chance to turn in your immortal soul, and accept my boss' offer to go quietly into the night. Now, it seems as though you don't have particularly many options, at the moment... I'd suggest you consider this carefully."
Zeus stared holes into Alistair, appalled at the thought of offering his soul to the devil. In a hushed whisper, with very little strength, Dorian spoke.
Alistair grew angry at Dorian's insolence, but calmed down. "Now, boy, I really think you should consider your options here. We can make sure you stay here for the rest of your life. Is that what you want? To spend an eternity in this...place?" Alistair looked around, to offer extra effect. "The battle is over, Dorian. And to be honest...there's not too much else you can do. You can stop the battle of good and evil, right now, Dorian."
Dorian paused, and looked into Alistair's eyes. He seemed apprehensive, but was interested.
"You lie, dirty demon, thou art false as hell!
The battle batween good and evil shall never quell.
God would not abandon his chosen few,
Away from my sight, demon...away from my view!"
Alistair smiled, but saw that Zeus' face grew bright red with passion. Alistair turned the cigar over to the other side of his mouth...and then put it out. His face contorted to a look of almost pity, as Zeus defiantly spat in the face of Alistair. He sighed, as his shoulder slunk. "Kid...if God were still here, do you really think he would have allowed one of his warriors to be so easily destroyed by Ty Burna, in the first place?" This gave Zeus pause again, as he began to contemplate this thought. "God lost the will to fight long ago, Dorian. He's been losing it slowly for the past thousand years. Now... Now he's realized he can't win the fight. So he's given up...the fight is over. He's given dominion to us...as soon as the humans finish wiping each other off of the planet, we're allowed all the souls that come with it. So long as we don't interfere with the plans for his new chosen ones. I'm....I'm sorry, Dorian." Alistair actually seemed sincere with no words...no laughing, no smoking his cigar. There was a low reverberation in his voice, and his eyes dared not meet Dorian's. As much as Dorian might have hated Alistair...he could tell that he was telling the truth. Dorian sat in stunned silence, completely baffled. He dared not even blink, and his bottom lip quivered. His eyes began to well, though he shut them, to keep Alistair from seeing.
no...no, none of this....it can't be right.
Why would God...give....give...give up the fight?
Alistair once thought he would savor this moment, but all he could feel was overwhelming grief. Dr. Zeus silently wept, realizing his life's work had been for naught. He could never save the world...and could never save Ellie's immortal soul. Alistair, perhaps channeling his emotions from his life as a human, felt a duty to explain to Dorian what was happening. Like an adult would explain to a child, Alistair began to share why God had given up the battle.
"Dorian...Dorian, I need you to listen. This was all about the humans, and how we would reach the humans. Both God and us; we all knew that while we could guide man, that it would ultimately be Man's decision of who won the war. God was optimistic about how much life was coming into the Earth...but one day, God saw into the heart of man. He looked into the heart of man on August 6th, 1945..."
Dorian looked on, puzzled, attempting to do the math.
"On that day, Dorian, Harry Truman told the press that an atomic bomb had been dropped on Hiroshima...."
Dorian nodded his head, and allowed for Alistair to continue.
"The Japanese were willing to fight tenaciously against the US Troops that threatened to invade their homeland. That is, until, the Americans unleashed the most brutal weapon the world had ever seen. When the Enola Gay dropped the Little Boy bomb on Hiroshima, the world looked onin awe as an entire city was leveled by a single explosive device. Upon Nagasaki being nuked just three days later, it became clear to the Japanese people that there was no surviving this great foe. God also looked into himself and realized this was a turning point; that the human race now owned the ability to wipe itself out, something that had only before been allotted to Mother Nature, and God. The Japanese emperor said, 'the enemy now possesses a new and terrible weapon with the power to destroy many innocent lives and do incalculable damage. Should we continue to fight, not only would it result in an ultimate collapse of the Japanese nation, but it would also lead to the total extinction of the human race.'"
Zeus paused, taking in all of this information, a Alistair looked upon him. Alistair sighed heavily, sympathy dripping from his voice.
"The power to destroy not only life but an entire planet has now fallen into the hands of the hands of humans, a power once reserved to nature alone. Today, more than sixteen thousand nuclear weapons are stockpiled by various nations, with enough destructive power to destroy all life on earth several times over. Interestingly enough, you somehow have made it this far, without pulling the trigger. But the power of God and the Devil is enough to dwarf that same stockpile of nukes. If humanity were to wipe itself out in a full on nuclear holocaust, the universe continues to live on. Perhaps life forms many millions of light years away could learn from humanity's collective suicide. But if the power of God and the Devil were to be harnessed in your wars, there would be no such luck. Our power, which could wipe out life on Earth in just a matter of days. If our power were to fall into the hands of the wrong people, it could result in the decimation of far more than your planet. Upon the inevitable weaponization of our forces, the consequences are far more grim. Mere humans hold the ability to not just destroy the planet, but perhaps even time and space. All of humanity would be at the mercy of one another, with just one madman able to bring it all down. Without warning, the entire universe could be engulfed in flames, devastating storms, and perhaps even the crumble of all time and space."
This thought weighed heavily in Zeus as he continued to weep heavily.
"So, God has decided to step away, fearing the consequences of your eventual collective suicide...I'm sorry, Dorian."
Dorian was despondent, and clearly still not with Alistair. His eyes focused on the wall, as he could only imagine one thought.
[YOUTUBE]cvuNo02q0mY[/YOUTUBE][/CENTER
Dr. Zeus could only see an image of a younger version of him, and Ellie, dancing a waltz. Zeus noticed how young he looked, how limber, and happy. But the minute his eyes caught Ellie's, he could only focus on her. She looked at him with radiant hazel eyes, and beamed a smile. Her smile told Dorian that, at that particular moment, nothing could make her happier. She glowed with radiance, her very beauty taking up the entire wall. Soon, the younger version of Dorian disappeared, and all that was left was Ellie, with a shining white light around her. She smiled again, and laughed a tiny laugh. The laugh pierced Zeus' mind, as he started to openly cry. There was a beauty to her immortal soul...something that even outshone her physical beauty. Dr. Zeus knew he was staring at the essence of Ellie's soul. Only something that pure could be cloaked in so much white. The light, to Zeus, began to engulf the padded room, as it became a giant dance hall. Ellie backoned for Zeus to come dance, though he could not. She walked closer to him, and closer, all the while the music played on in Zeus' mind.
"Dorian" the vision called, soothing the mind of Zeus. "Dorian...Dorian, we'll always be together. Dorian...I love you...I love you so much. And I always will..."
The music stopped, and once again, Ellie was gone. Alistair was still there, and they were still in the room together. Dr. Zeus' tears subsided, as he finally looked over to Alistair. "So... Dorian, what do you say? Let's get you out of here...Ok?"
And with a ferocity that Zeus had never known, he broke the leather bindings that held him to the chair. Dr. Zeus stood up, for the first time in years, and gave a mighty cry to the heavens. He attacked Alistair with a fury, who disappeared in black smoke.
"We have a code two-three-seven!" Said a voice over the loud speaker. Loud warning sirens blared, as the pounding on doors and moaning continued again. Two orderlies quickly entered Zeus room, but were quickly met with Euthanasia. "We need a sedative for a patient!" The orderly tried to call as loud as he could to his radio, but the voice was soon strangled. The sirens continued to blare, as Dr. Zeus subued to orderlies. As the door hung open, Dr. Zeus saw the chance to escape, and barraged past the door. Guards chased after him, as Dr. Zeus outran them towards the institution's walls. He hurled over the walls, and climbed over, with all the strength he could muster. Nothing could stop him from escaping the institution, as Ellie's words still pounded in his mind.
"We have a code indigo, repeat, a code indigo!"
Dorian jumped to his freedom, from the top of the institution's wall. He ran for the forest, as he could hear the bark of trained dogs. Radio voices began to scream, as the sirens began to blare again. Dorian ran into the woods, and up a tree, for shelter. As he climbed up, Zeus whispered in a stern, serious tone;
"The fight is not over until I say it is!
Nothing will stop me from reaching eternal bliss.
I believe that if God's really given up the fight,
Then taking on his mantle is simply my right.
If human's are hellbent on dragging themselves to hell,
Then I'll be the one to apply their death knell.
The old God is simply a fraud.
I'll fight the demons myself; it is I who must become God."
"Yes, but there are no signs of improvement, and every time we try to take that... costume off of him his vital signs just go down."
"Fascinating"
"Doctor? Is there anything we can do?"
~Beep Beep~
You are lost. A failure.
S.H.I.T took in its surroundings. This was all familiar, its internal network. Surrounding it were the orbs of different colours, representing different files all of which had different information. All kept here for easy access. A file on Alhazred whizzed passed the Machines head, another on Barbosa hovered in front of it for a moment but was gone just as quickly.
You were defeated by the 3 headed dog! The voice echoed, that familiar voice that had haunted S.H.I.T all its... life? Pushing further into darker and darker deeds, devoid of all emotion, it sounded like well oiled machinery at work. Perfect.
You lost your tag team gold!
Another orb cracked open, showing footage of S.H.I.T uttering the words "I Quit!" something which it thought it would never do.
~Beep Beep~
"I've never seen anyone in a state of delusion this deep. If we try to tamper with him, he literally tries to shut down!"
"Doctor? Shouldn't we be trying to help him?"
"How? How can we help him unless we can understand him>"
~Beep Beep~
The face appeared, the face that if you looked too closely you could see the code making it up, the almost purple eyes like pits into a robot hell, the mouth devoid of just about everything. You let the three headed dog run you out!
S.H.I.T stared back. It was tired of this creature, whatever it was. You are boring. It said, the face writhed in what could be anger, confusion, who knows? Who cares? You state the obvious as though it is an insight, you repeat the tired old mantra "S.H.I.T exists only to destroy!"
The face came to within inches of S.H.I.T's own, a poor act of intimidation on something that feels no fear.
Ah, but do you not fear yourself? Fear what you could become? For what else holds you back, but fear of what you could be?
S.H.I.T stared back, red eyes meeting the purple ones, neither flinching. A poor trick, it replied finally. you are me, I am you.
You are a poor, inferior version of me.
S.H.I.T turned, and started to walk away, it knew where it was going.
You do not matter.
Then what does matter? Asked the fading voice.
S.H.I.T took a few more steps, before turning and looking at the face one final time. My legacy. It said, finally.
~Beep Beep~ ~Beep Beep~
"Doctor, you can't remove it, he'll fade?"
The Doctor turned, surgical knife at the ready. "we must know what will happen, will he allow himself to die, or will the Humanity kick in and save him?"
As the surgical knife was about to attempt to penetrate S.H.I.T's armour, a mechanical hand reached up and grabbed the wielders wrist.
What are you doing?
The Doctor spluttered as the Nurse shrieked, S.H.I.T's eyes unrelentingly staring into the Doctors.
"I was... I was... I was..."
Shut up! The Machine roared, throwing the Doctor against a wall as it got to its feet. Totally ignoring the shaking Nurse, it walked out of the ward, medical equipment still attached to it.
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