Unscripted: Cerberus (c) vs. Team Russia [No DQ - Tornado Tag] (WORLD TAG TEAM)

[Viola Moonlight]

POTENTIAL STIPULATIONS:

1) Everest will be the Special Guest Referee
2) Freddie Fortune will be the Special Guest Referee
3) If Flex & Ramparte lose, they cannot compete for the World Tag Team titles again​

For over a year, Flex Mussel & Ramparte have cemented their names in the Tag Team division as the faction known as Cerberus, doing everything and anything in their power to make sure the World Tag Team titles stayed around their waists including under-handed tactics, questionable morals and ambushes upon ambushes upon ambushes. Cerberus took out many tag teams until they met Hard Metal Penetration, being involved in what was the greatest tag team war in a long while, spawning excellent contest along the journey. No matter what, Cerberus stood tall at the end of it all as THE most dangerous tag team... until now.

The former Elite X champion Victor Makarov joined forces with fellow countryman Oleg Rasputin and laid their claim to the World Tag Team titles by destroying Cerberus, leaving them on the canvas in every encounter. Team Russia saw themselves as the heroes looking to finally deliver vengeance upon the false champions who use any advantage to win their matches, especially after Cerberus ended their championship match with the Russians via disqualification in their hometown.

The Russians look to expose Cerberus as cowards and manipulative liars. Humbled by the beat-downs - similar attacks they inflicted on other teams - Cerberus look to finally man-up and take these challenges head on. The crowd however, is still undecided on which team to believe but will have the power to add a stipulation they feel is worthy of this situation. Do they believe the Hall of Famer Everest will call it down the middle and make sure the contest goes smoothly, giving Cerberus the benefit of the doubt as they look to turn a new leaf? Or does the WZCW Universe want Cerberus to finally receive their comeuppance by having Freddie Fortune become the referee and make things unfair for the champions. Or do they want to take away the one thing that Flex & Ramparte fight for: barring from ever competing for the Tag Team titles again should they fail to defend the titles?

Either way, this will be a dire situation for the defending champions who take on a dominant Team Russia in a No Disqualification Torando Tag team match. This one is going to get ugly.

Extended Deadline: RP's are due by Tuesday, June 23rd, at 11:59PM CST. Soft extensions only (no 24 hour extensions)​

 

[Richard Blonoff]

"They say every dog has his day."

Cramped inside the small taxi, Freddie shifted his weight to turn to look at me.

"It is one of your American cliches, no? That every dog has his day. That everyone, will have at least one shining moment in their life."

Mr. Fortune took a moment to take a sip of water from his bottle before responding.

"Yeah, its a saying we have. Why do you ask, Oleg?"

"I spent my entire life in Russia, in glorious country. Not all of Russia is glorious, there are many who are sick, who live in poverty, who do their best to barely scrape by every day. Then I come to America, and I find out that it is not so different. Why then do the two countries fight so often?"

Again Freddie took a moment to sip his water before he answered.

"They are the last two real powers left in this world. They have to prove their dominance as the true number one. It is bravado. Why do you and Cerberus fight? To prove dominance as the true number one tag team in the world.

Mr. Fortune was not wrong, but as often was the case, he wasn't completely right. For reasons Freddie would likely never understand, we fought Cerberus.

"You see Mr. Fortune..."

"Oleg, you can call me Freddie. You have known me long enough to drop the formalities."

"Mr. Fortune we fight Cerberus because it is inside us. Victor and I, we have fought our entire lives. Victor on the streets and alleyways with his fists, and myself in the cities during the night with guns. It is the only way of life we know. It is, in some respects, the only way Russians know how to live."

The taxi made a stop outside our hotel. Victor was already outside waiting to greet us. In his own way he nodded to me, and I assured Freddie that Victor was ready to go, so we climbed back inside the cab, and headed to the press event that the Chinese media had set up.

In many respects modern day China was still stuck in a long lost era. The state run media and propaganda, it reminded both Victor and I of our homeland growing up.

We crept along on the crowded streets, to our unknown destination, our translator in the front seat. He did his best to point out some tourist spots, Victor and I would occasionally glance out the window, but Freddie kept us focused on the upcoming presser.

"Guys, you really need to nail this press event. Outside of Russia, we don't have many fans. These Chinese fans, many of them are getting one of their firsts tastes of pro wrestling, so we need to make an impact."

Victor shook his head and mumbled something, though with no tongue and his mouth barely open it was hard to make out.

"We make out impact in the ring Mr. Fortune. Man or woman, champion or not, we have sent a message to the entire roster. We are not to be trifled with."

We finally arrived at the press event about ten minutes later, and the entire time Freddie was running around like mad in the lead up to the cameras rolling. It was unusual to see him so stressed, especially in an environment he was accustomed to.

Finally it was showtime, there was a smattering of American, French, and Russian media inside the sea of Chinese state media officials. I had faced gunfire, fistfights, and torture, in my life, yet facing the media made me uneasy. Luckily Mr. Fortune was right in his element.

Each question that came through had to be approved by a state official, and then ran through our translator.

"Do you think your boys can beat such a juggernaut in Cerberus?"

The first of many questions came in, and Mr. Fortune was all over them.

"I don't think, I know my boys can handle it. They have already beaten them once, and Cerberus had to resort to cheating to keep their titles. My boys handled the number one contenders for the midcard titles, they can and will handle anyone."

"What advantages do you think you will have over the veterans in Cerberus?"

"We have the obvious size and strength advantage, though Flex is no push over, I'm confident my boys can out muscle he and Ramparte."

"Victor has already tasted WZCW gold, how to you think Oleg will handle the pressure of fighting for such prestigious titles?"

"Oleg has ice water in his veins. He has Russian military training, and no offense to the fine Chinese delegates in attendance, but no country trains their boys in uniform like the Russians."

"Where would you rank Cerberus among the top teams of all time?"

"I have no time to rank losers. Some people compare them to great teams like Strikeforce, Runn Reynolds Runn, and Saxoteur. The truth is though, soon you will be listing Team Russia among those names."

The string of questions began to turn political in nature, and I began to tune out. I had given up on politics long ago. I knew first hand how futile politicians were when it came to helping the common man, be it Russia, China, or America, it was all the same. Finally I began to grow tired to the questions and grabbed my mic, cutting off Freddie.

"Будет и на нашей улице праздник. Цербер имел свое время на солнце, но в конечном итоге каждая собака стареет и должна быть положена. Виктор и я здесь, чтобы закончить страдания пороховницах, который Цербер!"
(Every dog has his day. Cerberus have had their time in the sun, but eventually every dog grows old and must be put down. Victor and I are here to end the misery of the old dog that is Cerberus!)

 

[Richard Blonoff]

"Tell you about Unscripted 2015? What is there to tell? That was what normal had become by that point, folks. That's what Team Russia was... But the days prior to Unscripted that year? Now that was really something."

- - - - - - -​

The first class treatment of Russia had all but faded away to nothing by the time we reached Unscripted. For a guy who had never been outside of the US of A, save for a few trips to Mexico; trips that the less said about the better, this world tour had been utterly spectacular. Cuba, Russia, India, and now China? Words can't even describe how much my eyes were opened. Even as all three of hunched inside a tiny cab in Beijing, I couldn't believe how far we had come from my tiny little apartment in America.

But the huge success of the WZCW World Tour had been nothing compared to the success of Team Russia, it could not be doubted. Sure, Victor had been an Elite X Champion in the past. He had beaten some of the biggest names in the company to get that honour. But the fluke win from Kagura Ozhora to rob him of the Championship and Victor's change of personal circumstances meant that there was an overwhelming sense that nothing was expected of the Mauler. And much like everything else, people could make up their own minds about what was expected from Victor and Oleg. But their exploits on the other side of the world could not be shuffled under the carpet anymore. The burning fires that represented the careers of the two Russians burned brighter than ever.

And their destruction of the Tag Team Champions on more than one occasion showed everyone that Oleg and Victor were here to stay, and boy were they serious.

I had seen a very visual and real change in the way that Victor carried himself since Oleg came around. The same man who stole my bed on the first night I met him and wouldn't give it back was gone, replaced by a man-mountain who walked into every match and every arena with confidence and guts. And I guess you could put that down to his relationship with Oleg. It could be said that without the emotional burden of what was going on on the other side of the world; away from his control and away from his mind, Victor had become a much more lethal and dangerous competitor in the world of WZCW.

But I had seen a change in myself, too. I remember the first few weeks with the Russian in my cramped apartment; I was fucking terrified. The hatred in his eyes for me and everyone else was his defining feature. But the more that Victor relaxed into his new surroundings and what was expected of him the more I became comfortable around him. I never thought I would had the guts to go out onto the stage in front of thousands of people and really put the screws to some sorry son of a bitch. But that's exactly what had happened.

"And what had all of that ultimately amassed? How about a WZCW Tag Team Championship match?"

But the events leading up to Unscripted were certainly something. Like I said, the glitz and glamour of Moscow was well and truly in the rear view mirror by this point. Beijing was a completely different way of life and it put me on edge.

- - - - - - - - - -​

"The puny dogs of war run from the might of the crushing weight of Soviet expectation and destruction. It does not matter to Oleg or Victor which stipulation that the fans of WZCW choose. By the end of Unscripted 2015, we will have new Tag Team Champions and that is something that is not up to the ridiculous decisions of the WZCW hick fans."

I don't know what had come over me recently but I liked it.

"What do you think?" I said. Oleg sat with a smile on his face as I stood rehearsing the speech that I had written in the bath only moment ago. Truth be told, I don't think I genuinely believed any of what I was saying back then but the crowd lapped it up, a sentiment echoed by the wide grin on the face of Mr. Rasputin.

"Make sure that you really hit buzzwords, Mr. Fortune. As you Americans say... Say it with your chest" Oleg said, standing to attention and staring at me proudly. "PUNY! DESTRUCTION!"

But whilst Oleg immersed himself in the occasion, Victor remained typically quiet. But the strange sort of quiet that I hated. Of course, not being able to speak meant that it was always a one-way conversation. But it was his lack of presence that worried me. Victor always carried himself with a certain 'impact', it could be said; when he was around, you would know it. But there was something different about Valley correct those days and it wasn't until later that I eventually came to realise what that change was...

"NO!"

I remember almost leaving my breakfast on the inside of my underwear when the booming voice came from the corner; Victor turned and facing us with a horrible look of anger and dismay etched up in his face. I'd never heard his voice until that very moment in my life and it did not disappoint. It was just as booming and as furious as I had always expected it to be, if not more. And as he charged towards us both I remember definitely leaving my breakfast on the inside of my underwear. The chair shot out behind him and this manic look of anger crossed his features...

"NO!" he bellowed. Moving to within mere inches of my face, he snarled at me. But there was something in his eyes, a look I had never seen before. Grabbing a sheet of paper from where I had hastily written my speech only a few moments ago, he began scribbling in Russian and thrust it towards Oleg.

Oleg ran his eyes over the sloppily written letters before turning to me, my jaw still firmly planted to the floor in shock.

"He says that he doesn't like who you have become, Mr. Fortune. He says that I have ruined who you once were and that..."

"What? He said what?" I asked, my whole body shaking as he looked me dead in the eye.

"He said that he is disappointed in you..."

And there it was, the truth of it all. For weeks and months Victor had become a shadow the imposing man that he once was. Sure, he would arrive at every show for WZCW and make his ultimate goal to inflict as much bodily harm on his opponents as possible. But there was something missing from him; something holding him back and I could never put my finger on until that point. The fire that once burned in his eyes was extinguished and it was all my fault. Maybe I had lost myself a little in all that had come before us but was that really so wrong given what we had accomplished? Well, that was the real question, wasn't it?

The deafening silence rung out in that small Chinese room. "He says that we have lost ourselves and that, unless we find ourselves we will surely be defeated by Cerberus."

He was right. Victor, he was so right. Not one time during the entire course of the feud with Cerberus did we ever hive them their credit, not least me. I knew how talented and powerful the two men standing behind me were, and what's more I knew what they were capable of. Could they beat Cerberus in a Tornado Tag Team match? Absolutely, everyone knew that. But what made Cerberus so good? No one had really thought about that in the heat of the moment. Every week we went out there and put the screws to the Tag Team Champions. We beat them down ever single opportunity that we had, no one had ever made Cerberus look like chumps so much in their entire career.

But they always bounced back. They always showed everyone, when it mattered the most, that they were made of sterner stuff. They showed everyone that they were cut out to be Tag Team Champions. And should this match have crossed my desk at the beginning of that crazy journey, I would have noticed it sooner. I would have sized up the incumbent Champions in a matter of seconds and realised that everyone needed to be on point in that match. But it wasn't until Victor uttered his first guttural word to me in Beijing that I found what I was looking for. It was then that I realised that I had wondered down the Yellow Brick Road and had to find my way back.

Thanks to Victor, I knew what needed to happen and how to make it happen. Forget talk, that was cheap. And opinions were just like assholes, everyone had one. The more I think about it now, the more I realise that whilst I had lost myself in the occasion, Victor had never been more focused. Whilst I spent my time thinking about the next time I would take the spotlight, Victor craftily constructed how the match would play out in his head. I might have thought that the reason that Team Russia was doing so well every week was because I was 'getting into the head' of Cerberus. The real reason that we had been so successful over the last few months against Champions that everyone thought were untouchable was because of the two men standing in front of me. Don't think it was lost on me that they could have dropped me at any time...

The real key to beating Cerberus was simple really. It wasn't all about speeches and it certainly wasn't about me. It was about rising to the challenge that had been set out before us and making sure that no one was in any doubt that Team Russia were the best Tag Team in the world right now.

Action. Not words...

 

[FlexAmerican Dynamite]

The WZCW tag team champions Ramparte and Flex Mussel can be seen backstage in the locker room looking a little banged up but still feeling better than they have in recent weeks. Tending to their wounds and needs is Ramparte’s estranged butler Morley who saved them from the clutches of Team Russia.

Ramparte: I’ll be honest Morley; you were the last person I was expecting to save us.

Morley: If someone had told me a couple of weeks ago that I’d once again voluntarily put myself in harm’s way for you I would have laughed. But something has changed sir, and I could no longer sit idly by and watch you two be decimated any longer.

Flex: What exactly changed?

??? : Isn’t it obvious?

The WZCW legend Everest enters the room and interrupts the conversation wearing a referee shirt to begin talking to his former protégés.

Everest: You’re not the same Cerberus you were before, and your actions after the match against K.O. and Theron proved it to not only me, but the entire world. The old Cerberus wouldn’t have taken a loss like that lying down and probably would’ve assaulted those two but instead you shook their hands, and gave one of the most honest speeches I’ve ever heard someone in your position give Flex.

Flex: But will honesty help us retain the tag team titles?

Everest: I didn’t just have you shake their hands for public perception I had you do it for yourselves. Some of the people in this business you end up respecting the most are the people you originally despised.

Ramparte: I highly doubt we’ll be shaking Team Russia’s hands after Unscripted.

Everest: And considering the circumstances that’s completely understandable. After your wars against Hard Metal Penetration neither of you rushed to shake hands but whether you realize it or not you’ll come to truly respect the teams you’ve “killed”. Regardless of whether I or anybody else have liked your previous tactics each and every team you’ve ever faced has forced you two to step up your game and become one of the greatest teams in WZCW history. It would be my honor to be voted in as the referee for your match so I could potentially raise your hands in victory. But if it should happen don’t expect any special treatment. You gentleman will already have plenty of things at your disposal in a No DQ match. Good luck, I know you’ll make me proud.

And with those words Everest pats both Ramparte and Flex on the back and leaves them to their thoughts in the locker room while Morley silently continues to bandage them up.

Flex: Wow, he really believes in us…

Ramparte: For some reason he always has.

Flex: Even when we came into this company as cocky, whining, self-entitled brats he still saw potential in us when management didn’t. Despite all the horrible things we’ve done and the horrible things we might do retain our titles he’s never lost faith in us. Regardless of the fact that most of the WZCW universe despises us, will most likely vote for us to never have a shot at the tag team titles again if we lose, or put Freddie Fortune as the referee to stack the deck against us, one of the greatest WZCW superstars still stands firmly behind us.

Ramparte: This must be what it feels like to have a father figure…

Flex: No, this is what it feels like to have something to fight for.

Ramparte: Then what exactly have we been doing the last year?

Flex: Feeding our egos with the spotlight and materialistic gain. On paper Team Russia should already be tag team champions, they have the advantage heading into Unscripted, and in most people’s minds there is absolutely no way we walk out with the tag team titles.

Ramparte: And the inspiration starts now?

Flex: The great man Rocky Balboa once said “No, maybe I can't win. Maybe the only thing I can do is just take everything he's got. But to beat me, he's going to have to kill me. And to kill me, he's gonna have to have the heart to stand in front of me. And to do that, he's got to be willing to die himself. I don't know if he's ready to do that. I don't know.”

Ramparte: Are you quoting Rocky IV?

Flex: Indeed I am, because as dangerous as Team Russia is, as talented as they are, as clever and manipulating as Freddie Fortune is, I believe Team Russia lacks the true passion and motivation to sacrifice everything to beat us. Just like us when we first started as team they’re full of hollow ideals and selfish principles. They fight for themselves while we fight for those who have had faith in us since the very beginning. We fight for Everest, we fight for Morley, despite her current struggles we fight for Eve, and as best friends we fight for each other Ram.

Ramparte: Do you really believe the key to defeating Team Russia is fighting for something other than just to say we beat them?

Flex: Not quite, it’s part of the solution but truly understand the Russians we’re going to need someone I hoped I never had to ask help from again….



A couple days later

Spoiler

Svetlana: Well isn’t this a splendid surprise.

Flex Mussel’s former Russian mentor and crush Svetlana can be seen opening the door to her hideout deep in the mountains of Mother Russia as security guards become wary and on the defensive at the arrival of the tag team champions.

Svetlana: Stand down men, they are here as guests yes?

Flex: Took us days to find this place, why can’t your secret hideouts ever be on google maps?

Svetlana: Being a fugitive causes me to find more…complicated ways to continue my practices.

Ramparte: And what exactly are those?

Svetlana: The creation and control of the most healthiest and dominant specimens Russia has ever seen, which is why I assume you two are here yes?

Flex: Oleg Rasputin and Victor Makarov are the culmination of Freddie Fortune brilliance and guidance. But we realized there’s only one Russian mastermind that could possibly top that, and unfortunately it’s you.

Svetlana: Ah yes, I offered my help before your original title match against Oleg and Victor yet you said no. I’m willing to offer it again but as I said before it will come with a price.

Flex: Who should I have my secretary make the check out to?

Svetlana: Money means nothing to me, I want you Flex. If I show you how to beat the Russians we will go out on a date.

Flex: Sorry but my heart belongs to another woman.

Ramparte: One who we’ve barely seen or heard from in weeks.

Svetlana: Your friend is right, is your dysfunctional blonde worth losing your precious championships?

Ramparte: You two aren’t even officially dating yet Flex, just go on the date so we can get this over with.

After a long minute of contemplating and remembering what’s at stake Flex reluctantly agrees to Svetlana’s demands and she leads the hounds to a very a small room that has the temperature of a boiling sauna.

Ramparte: I thought we were going to a training room not a day at the spa?

Svetlana: You two are athletes already close to physical perfection. I have nothing more to add to your ability, I can only mentally prepare your minds the way I do all my subordinates.

Flex: Brainwashing?

Svetlana: You Americans call it…tripping balls yes? Think of it similar to that. This room will drown out your fears and truly prepare you for what it’s like to go to war with Russia’s most vicious competitors.

Svetlana leaves the champions in the sweltering hot room and they both decide to follow her orders and sit and think. It doesn’t take long however for images of both the past and present to flood Flex’s mind.

Myles: That actually gives me an idea. We have new tag team champions and with the departure of Celeste Crimson as of now there are no contenders in place. You want to get successful quick Flex? You want to show people why they should respect you Ramparte? Then let’s put you two together and see if you can cut it in the tag team division. You want some revenge on Hyada? Let’s have you together on the next Aftershock to take on Hyada and Corvus. If you two win who knows how close you’ll be to a shot at the champs. Hopefully you two can prove me wrong, now both of you out of my office.

After a quick glance of confusion towards each other the newly formed team begrudgingly leaves Chuck’s office. While the two currently share a mutual dislike of the general manager neither is very gung ho about greeting the other. After a couple of seconds of awkward waiting around outside Chuck’s door Mussél decides to give things a try.

Flex: Hi, I’m Flex Mussél.

Ramparte: Ramparte…

Flex: So, got any dinner plans?

Meltdown 117

More and more of the fans begin to cheer as Flex and Ram exit the ring and make their way up the ramp towards Freddie is noticeably becoming more and more nervous with every step Cerberus takes. However, the cheering of the fans quickly turn to gasps as Makarov and Rasputin quickly enter from the back of the crowd and attack Everest who is in the ring all alone! Rasputin holds Everest up while Makarov hits a Mother Russia nearly taking the legend’s head off! Oleg then locks in the Red Scare but quickly releases it as he and Makarov and make their exit just as Cerberus notices what’s happening. Team Russia scamper up the ramp towards Freddie while the champions check on an injured Everest.

Unscripted 2015

Harrys: And the results of the Unscripted poll is...


1) Freddie Fortune as ref: 40%
2) Everest as ref: 20%
3) No rematch clause for Cerberus: 40%

Later on....

Harrys: And here are your winners and NEEEEEWWW WZCW Tag Team Champions...TEAM RUSSIA

Flex: OH MY GOD!

The monsieur of muscle breaks out of his trance to find Ramparte and Svetlana conversing on the other side of the room.

Ramparte: We were wondering when you’d wake up, it’s been a couple of hours.

Svetlana: I take it this was beneficial yes?

Flex: I had a nightmare where the fans equally voted both Freddie as the referee and us never getting another title shot, and we lost.

Svetlana: Interesting, usually the visions end with happy thoughts. Maybe you two are worse off than I thought.

Flex: It doesn’t matter, regardless of what the fans vote Cerberus will not give up or give in, with the odds stacked against us we’ll walk into the ring and do what we’ve done best the last year and that is prove everyone wrong. Everest was our Apollo Creed and those bastards Oleg and Victor destroyed him and we will avenge him.

Ramparte: My thoughts exactly, last year at Unscripted we were barely on the pre-show and we lost to Young Justice. A year later we are champions in one of the most anticipated matches on the card. Cerberus won the tag team titles in a street fight and has spent the last couple of months winning match after match in vicious circumstances. We will defeat Team Russia and become the longest reigning champions in WZCW history. For Everest, for Morley, for Eve.

Svetlana: So I take it your visions went better?

Ramparte: What I saw is between me and my mind, all I know is that we need to head to WZCW headquarters now, I’ve got some things I need to get off my chest.

Flex: Rocky Balboa once said “Going in one more round when you don't think you can - that's what makes all the difference in your life.” That’s the difference between Cerberus and Team Russia.

Svetlana: Are you really comparing real Russians to that stereotypical fool played by Dolph Lundgren?

Flex: Yes, because Ivan Drago is a bitch, and so is Team Russia.

Cerberus: HAIL CERBERUS!!!

 

[Spidey Revivey]

A young wrestler is broken down by a much larger opponent. Clubbed in the back, the superstar screams in pain, and falls knees-first to the mat. The giant tries to get the small crowd on his side, but they boo mercilessly. He spits on the canvas in disrespect. The beast of a man lifts the rookie high into the air, but the kid battles out of it! He lands on his feet, kicks the monster square in the kneecap, and hooks his arms behind his back. The Denoument! The Denoument is executed flawlessly and Ramparte pins him. The half-filled arena cheers on as he gets his hand raised.

After the match, Ramparte is greeted by the last person he thought he would ever see in person.

Everest: "You're gonna go far, kid. What do you think of joining up with WZCW one day?"

Ramparte: "I-I would be honored, Mr. Everest! But I don't have the money for the training it would take."

Everest: "Well, keep at it and that shouldn't be a problem. Do everything in your power to get there. I can try and help a little bit myself. Won't be long until I retire. Been scouting out new talent these past couple of weeks. You and another guy have caught my eye lately. I'll make a few calls, get you booked in some better spots on the card...how does that sound? Think you're ready to take the next step?"

Ramparte: "I was ready before I laced up my boots."

Everest: "Good. I'll be checking in from time to time. Don't let me down, son. By the way, what is your name?"

Ramparte: "Godfrey Ramparte, sir. But most people just call me by my last name."

Everest: "Ramparte, you can do great things. I expect progress from my protegés, Understood? I expect you to be one hell of a catalyst by the time you fight the big boys of my federation.

Everest handed him his card and left. Ramparte looked down at it, and smiled. He couldn't think of a better day than that day.

Ramparte stood alone in the arena's hallway, thinking of that moment from years ago. Usually under these circumstances, he could hear the capacity crowd get rowdy. The chants, the booing, the cheers...they would beat against the walls. But not here. Not in Beijing, China.

It was serene. Quiet. There was an air of respect here.

Respect...

The Catalyst thought about Everest, the man who pulled him from the amateurs and into the professionals. It was like a twist of fate that Flex, another star Everest scouted, would wind up being paired with him for over a year. Everest was a respectable wrestler. The very first Hall of Famer. But their opponents spat on the legend's legacy, and would copy Cerberus's very tactics and lay waste to the innocent man. They would beat down the Hounds of Hell in the process. Team Russia was unlike anything Ramparte and Flex ever faced.

He gritted his teeth and looked down. His grip on Alice tightened. The cane creaked from the pressure.

The Catalyst couldn't take it anymore. He searched the inner pockets of his jacket and pulled out a cellphone. The same cellphone Mussél gave him almost a year ago. One he had never thought to use until now. He punched in a few numbers and brought it to his lips.

Ramparte: "Yeah, this is Ramparte. I need your help tonight. We're about to do something truly unscripted."

__________________________________________________​

Cerberus stood in front of the Editing Room.

Flex: "I'm glad you called, bro. But I don't know if the Russians will even be watching this. Or Freddie Fortune for that matter."

Ramparte: "Maybe not. But the fans will, and that's good enough for me."

They stumbled into the room.

Technician: "What are you two doing here? This is a restricted area!"

Flex: "Calm your tits. We're commandeering the Sound Booth."

Technician: "What?!"

The Frenchman dropped the gym bag he brought along and grabbed the maintenance man by his collar. He pulled him off of the ground. There was a picture hung up on a wall that had Vance Bateman shaking hands with Henry Winkler. Winkler was in his Fonz jacket. Ramparte removed it and Flex hung the technician by his shirt. It ripped but got caught. The man was going nowhere.

Technician: "Bullies! I thought you turned over a new leaf??"

Ramparte: "Old habits and all that."

Flex: "Don't mind my partner. We're doing all we can to be honorable dudes. But you're like literally in the way of all of that. So chill. We're not going to hurt you."

Ramparte: "Relax. If the Boss Man knew you just let us take over the Editing Room, then you're fired. But this way we get what we want and you get what you want. See the old us would have just beat you senseless. We're trying hard at this good guy thing, okay?"

While the bookworm was busy looking for the key to the Sound Booth, Flex Mussél unzipped his gym bag and pulled out a Protein shake. He handed it to the technician, who reluctantly took it, unsure what to make of the peace offering. Seeing that there was nothing else he could do, he shrugged and chugged.

The Catalyst found the key, unlocked the Sound Booth, and stepped inside. The Monsieur of Muscle barred the Editing Room's entrance with a chair and stood watch.

The booth was made of glass. There was a lone microphone suspended from the ceiling. Headphones sat on the soundboard, a keyboard full of audio machinations meant to reduce noise and balance intervals. Ramparte ignored those and put the headphones on. Before starting, he searched for the Record button. Once found, he pressed it and it flashed crimson red. He stood in front of the mic, took a deep breath, and spoke his mind to everyone and no one.

[YOUTUBE]ZSylPc-Eaf4[/YOUTUBE]​

Flex nodded and unbarricaded the door. Ramparte fished for his wallet and pulled out a $100 bill. He handed it to the technician, who lit up even though he was still hanging by a nail. Cerberus gave him a small wave and vacated the premises.

Once outside, Flex turned to Ramparte.

Flex: "Rambo, good buddy, I think we're finding our niche. Let the beasts come. But there is no greater beast than the 3 Headed Dog of myth."

Uncharacteristically, Ramparte extended his hand out and made a fist. Mussél smiled, and fist-bumped his tag team partner.