WZCW Supershow II: Battle Royal

[a0161613]

As announced by Big Dave, this over the top rope Battle Royal will determine the fourth man who will contest the WZCW Championship Fatal Four Way match. Everyone who is not a champion is eligible except the remaining three members of the Mentorship Programme, Drake Callahan and Steven Holmes.

Don't RP in this thread if you are not eligible. If you are not sure, ask anyone of the Creative members.

Deadline is: 11:59pm Central, Sunday 11th November, extensions as per thread.

 

[Beastmode 24]

Chapter 5:A Divine Opportunity​

Opportunity. Something everyone seeks to gain but few achieve. Ever since I first joined WZCW, I’ve been seeking my opportunity, and it seems like I’ve found it with Mason as the New Church. But as much as I’d like to believe we’re going to be a team for the rest of our careers, and that we’re going to run the tag team division, I have to be a realist and understand that nothing lasts forever. I love Mason like a brother, but eventually all tag teams go away. Mind over Matter, the Forgotten Powers, even Runn Reynolds Runn. You can even add the Crashin Movement, Stantime, The Full House Daves, Disasterpiece… All of the greatest teams in WZCW have broken up, and we will be no different.

With that being said, there is still more that I would like to accomplish as a team with Mason, and I honestly believe that The Almighty has made himself known to me through my colleague. We will become tag team champions, and we will rid WZCW of the filth that is SaboSax. The Almighty has given us a personal glimpse into His plan for us, and we are closer to accomplishing that plan. I know what Mason would say about our loss on Meltdown: “He works in mysterious ways,” and he’s right. I firmly believe that everything I’ve ever done has brought me here: to WZCW. In every great struggle; when it seems like there has been a decisive winner, the vultures descend and take what they want. It’s easy to say that Mason and myself are the vultures in the war of good and evil in WZCW, and very soon we will be taking what’s rightfully ours. This is His way.

But is His way me becoming World Champion?

Ever since I joined WZCW, I’ve fought, clawed, scratched, and admittedly, cheated to get where I am. This is the biggest opportunity that I’ve had to make a name for myself. I know that there’s going to be some incredible competition in this match, but physically, I’m stronger. Mentally, I’m sharper; and I’m hungry. No doubt there are going to be former World Champions stepping into the ring for that battle royal, men like Steven Kurtesy, and there are going to be competitors that have been here for a lot longer than me like the so called “White Knight” Chris KO. Do I have what it takes to eliminate someone like those two? What about Celeste Crimson, or Titus? (I still owe him from pinning me in that 8 man match.) I’ve never been in a battle royal so this is easily my biggest challenge. But I can learn from those before me who’ve won matches such as Lethal Lottery. Steven Kurtesy found himself in this exact position a couple of years ago, and the battle royal he won to be in the main event of Unscripted is arguably what catapulted his career. Ty Burna, Showtime, Titus and Big Will all won Lethal Lottery, so I should study how they accomplished that. There are so many questions going into this match.

But the biggest question is, if myself and Mason both enter the match, Would it bring an end to the new church, or would it make us stronger? Like I said earlier, I believe in Mason’s message, and I believe that we’re on the right path, but will selfish ambition get in the way of a divine plan? We’re so close to finally getting rid of the demons in the tag team division, and closer to our goal of finding The Almighty. Could selfish goals overtake the hard work we’ve both put in over the last couple months?

Forever in The Almighty’s presence,
Derek Jacobs.


As Derek sets aside his journal, we can see that he is in his apartment not far from the church that Mason pastors. Derek looks concerned about the choice that he has to make about the upcoming battle royal. Will he chose the opportunity of a lifetime to earn the opportunity to compete for the biggest prize in wrestling, or will he stay loyal to his “brother in The Almighty”? Just then, his phone rings. A familiar number, one that Derek hasn’t seen in quite some time appears on his screen.


James Parker.


Derek: Trying to rub in another loss, James?


James: No Derek, I’m just trying to see where my friend’s head is. You and Mason had a good showing in that match last week, but it seemed like you guys got a little cocky. What’s the old saying, Derek? Pride comes before the fall?


Derek: For a guy that said you’re not trying to rub anything in, that’s exactly what it sounds like you’re doing.


James: Okay, let me cut to the chase then. Are you going to enter the battle royal at the Supershow? That’s one hell of an opportunity, Derek. Honestly, it’s one that you might not get ever again.


Derek: What’s that supposed to mean, James? Do you think I’m not good enough to become world champion? Is that it? Or is this about Mason again?

James: …….. that’s exactly what this is about Derek. You need to ditch the preacher and do this for you. You’ve been on a roll since you joined up with him, I have to admit, but you’re just not you. This humble shell of a man that you’ve become just isn’t you anymore.

Derek: Is it the fact that I’m not the same person, or the fact that I don’t let you make my decisions for me that eats you up James? Ever since I was 20 you made my decisions for me. YOU told me where to work, what to drive, where to live. You controlled every part of my life like I was nothing but a piece of meat. I thought we were family, but I’ve came to realize that the only thing you were worried about was me making you more money. I wasn’t the one that was in love with money, James. You were. I’ve asked you more than once to come join me here at Mason’s church, that he would change your life, and every time; every single time I’ve reached out to you, you’ve turned me down. I have nothing more to say to you. Goodbye James.

James: Derek-

James is cut off by Derek hanging up.

A thick silence hangs in the air as Derek gets dressed. He’s requested the opportunity to talk to Mason Westhoff one on one, and he doesn’t know how Mason will react to what he has to say. Derek enters Mason’s spacious workout center and greets the preacher with a warm handshake.


Mason: Derek, while I’m always happy to spend time with you, I must say I’m a little apprehensive about this meeting. You seemed very stressed over the phone, so I’m a little concerned about you. What’s on your mind?


Derek: What’s my purpose here Mason? Am I here to serve your cause as a crusader of The Almighty? Or is there something greater for me?


Mason: I believe that although you are a great tool for our cause for The Almighty; and I say our cause because it just isn’t my work Derek, its ours- I believe that we make our own destiny. Why do you ask?

Derek: I’m asking because I want to participate in the battle royal to determine the last participant in the World Title match at Unscripted. This is my dream, Mason. I can’t lie to myself. I have enjoyed teaming with you over the last few months, but this is my ultimate goal here in WZCW. I’m not asking that we part ways forever, but I’m asking for your blessing to go on my own for this endeavor.


Mason: Derek, while I give you my blessing to strike out on your own for this match, realize one thing; I’ll be competing in the match too. You’re not the only one in this room that seeks personal glory, Derek. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to strike out on your own.

Derek: The thing I’m worried about, Mason, is what happens if you come after me, or if I come after you? I’m going to be honest with you; if you’re in there with me I’m not going to give you a pass. I’m going to be gunning for you just the same as I would be gunning for someone else. This is my dream, Mason. Nobody’s going to be standing in my way. Not even you.

Mason: I can’t say that I blame you Derek. Because that’s exactly how I feel. But look at it like this; I would much rather it be one of us that wins the match, than someone like Steven Kurtesy or Chris KO. While I can’t promise that we won’t come to blows, I can promise that after the match the New Church will be as strong as it’s ever been. I need to leave now Derek; I have other pressing issues to deal with today. This will be the last time that you see me until the battle royal. But Derek, remember this; there are others that will also be in this that we've had dealings with, and they could be looking for revenge against us. Not only could one of us walk away with a World Title shot, but we could also prevent the demons that have plagued us for the last couple of months from attaining one.

Derek: If that’s how you want it, Mason. Good luck.

Derek extends his hand, and Mason firmly shakes it before they go their separate ways.

After meeting with Mason, Derek returns to his apartment and studies tape of past battle royals that have been held in WZCW beginning with the one that started it all, Lethal Lottery I

"Ladies and Gentlemen, may I have your attention please. The rules of the match stated that a winner is determined when all 29 other opponents have been eliminated, with their feet hitting the arena floor. The official outside of the ring, has determined that while Big Will's body hit the floor, his feet hit the steel steps and did NOT, DID NOT, touch the arena floor. Will carefully picked himself up, and walked back up the steps, without touching his feet to the floor, reentering the ring and eliminating Steamboat Ricky.

Therefore your Winner of the 2008 W.Z.C.W. Lethal Lottery Match. 'The One' Big Will!!!!!" "Famous" by Puddle of Mudd erupts over the sound system, as the arena and the fans inside erupt with a HUGE, MONSEROUS ovation!!!! Ricky is on the outside of the ring, demanding an official tell him what just happened.

Apparently, only one of Will's feet hit the floor. The official is explaining this to Ricky, as he seems pissed off and heads toward the back. Meanwhile, Big Will has tears in his eyes, as hes on his knees in the middle of the ring, with every person in the arena on their feet cheering him on! Big Will will advance to Kingdom Come, in the Main Event to challenge for the World Heavyweight Championship!

The Scene of Big Will’s victory transforms into Lethal Lottery II

Carmen and Titus look at each other and then both turn to Ricky. The crowd pops as this as Bratchny and Titus begin a double team assault on the real world champion. Ricky is putting up a fight lashing out against both men but the team of Bratchny and Titus is overpowering him. Bratchny then gives a bounce off the ropes and goes for a double From Russia with love. He connects with Ricky but Titus ducks it. Ricky is out from the FRL and Bratchny looks a bit dazed. Titus seems shocked that Bratchny went for his finisher on him and grabs Bratchny by the shoulder. He spins Bratchny round and gives him a kick to the mid section. Titus then gives Bratchny the Tit drop as Bratchny is out cold. The crowd are cheering huge amounts as Titus stumbles over to pick up Ricky. He goes to throw Ricky over the top rope but somehow Ricky manages to throw Titus over the top. Titus though grabs the rope and bounces back up as only one foot has touched the floor. He gets back in the ring and throws Ricky over the top. Ricky is eliminated as Bratchny has made his way to his feet without Titus realising. Titus is looking at Ricky on the floor as Bratchny runs to give him a clothesline. Titus notices this and manages to duck the clothesline as Bratchny knocks himself into the ropes as out of nowhere Titus gives a spinning heel kick. Bratchny is knocked over the top of the rope and is eliminated. There's a brief pause as Titus turns round and notices he's the last man in the ring.

He collapses to his knee almost in tears. Titus' theme hits as streamers and confetti fall to the ring. The crowd is immensely loud as Titus is still on his knees.

Harrys: The winner of this match and as a result will face Everest for the WZCW World Heavyweight title at Kingdom Come. Titus!

Titus stands to his feet and begins to applaud the fans, he climbs out the ring and goes along to give the fans hugs and handshakes.

The scene is now Lethal Lottery III as Showtime claims his spot at glory.

Showtime tries struggling out of the carry but Dave holds him firm. Showtime panics and gets a thumb into Dave's eye. Dave let's go and Showtime gets behind Dave on the turnbuckle. Dave sits down on the turnbuckle, his hand over his eye as Showtime carefully walks onto the ropes. Dave slowly gets his vision back and stands back on the turnbuckle. Showtime suddenly jumps forward and hits a huge Enziguri, sending both men off the turnbuckle to the outside! Showtime frantically reaches out and gets one hand on the middle rope, sending his body crashing hard into the side of the ring, his feet mere inches from the ground as Dave lands back first onto the outside mat.

Harrys: Here is your winner of the Lethal Lottery, and the man going onto Kingdom Come to face Ty Burna for the WZCW World Heavyweight Championship, Showtime Cougar!

The scene then transforms to Ty Burna plunging WZCW into chaos.

Dave walks over to the Holmes, but Holmes immediately jumps off of the apron and onto the mat. Dave extends his arm out and points at Holmes, telling him to leave ringside. Holmes snarls at him and then suddenly jumps up and grabs Dave’s arm. The crowd becomes crazy as Holmes attempts to pull Dave out of the ring. Dave pushes on the top rope as he tries to remain inside of the ring. Meanwhile, Ty is slowly making his way to his feet. Dave notices this and begins shaking his arm, trying to get Holmes to relinquish the hold. Ty is now at his knees as he shakes out the cob webs. Dave’s face is red from pulling back his arm. Holmes grits his teeth in anger as he continues to pull. The crowd is deafening as they are extremely excited about the current situation. Ty is now on one knee! Dave is slowly regaining his footing inside of the ring as he is actually lifting Holmes up. Holmes screams as he refuses to let go! Ty is now at his feet! With one quick jerk, Dave whips Holmes off his arm and grips it in pain as he turns around! The crowd jumps up in excitement over Dave’s triumph. But that moment is short lived! Ty pump kicks his leg and a Consecrated Banishment lands in the face of Dave. The impact sends Dave staggering back and into the ropes. His feet lift up from underneath him as he begins spiraling backwards. The entire crowd gasps as Dave flips over the ropes and lands hard onto the outside mat! The referee looks at Dave and then signals for the bell!

Harrys: Ladies and Gentlemen, here is your winner, and the man who will compete for the WZCW World Heavyweight Title at Kingdom Come IV, Ty Burna!

A short time later, Derek writes in his journal once more.

After Mason told me that he was competing in the match, we agreed that while we will continue our endeavor to become Tag Team champions, if one of us became World Champion we would be in a much better position to glorify The Almighty. While I’m happy that we’re on the same page, the match hasn’t begun yet, and if I see the opportunity to make a name for myself at his expense, I’m going to take it. I'm prepared to do whatever it takes to win this match. This is my opportunity to show the world that Derek Jacobs is a force to be reckoned with on his own.
For one night only, Dr. Pain will be back in business, and I’ll be unstoppable. At the SuperShow, I wreak havoc. I destroy people. I dominate.

And you can bank on that.

 

[Барбоса]

Please, take a seat. He will be with you in one moment???

*Barbosa suppressed the urge to go on a tirade and took one of the available seats.

High rising terminal - that is what it was called. Or the upward inflexion, like everything was a question or had some uncertainty behind it.

It drove him to distraction.

It was yet another reason why he did not like Steven Kurtsey. He spoke with that ludricrous variant, the Australian Question Innotation, which made him sound like he was seeking assurance for his opinions, despite him supposedly being a doctor.

**RING RING**

Here we go again…*

WZCW Offices. How can I help you?

*That was okay. That was an actual question.*

One moment please. I will just connect you???

*The chair he had chosen groaned under the crushing pressure that Barbosa's death grip was now exerting on it.

However, inwardly, Barbosa reflected that in some way he could sympathise with her. She was the victim of social conditioning. All her friends, the celebrities she watched on television, even the politicians spoke that way. So why shouldn't she?

Barbosa also had something in his head that he could not help but repeat. But there was no question mark at the end of it.*

Barbosa: "Break SHIT!

Smash SHIT!

DESTROY SHIT!"

*It had been swirling around his head since it had in there just after Apocalypse. He suspected that SHIT had something of a similar mantra floating about in whatever it called a brain.

Together, those mantras had driven Barbosa and SHIT to make a mockery of that ridiculous tag match. However, that first test of the automaton's 'indestructibility' had proven abortive due to those circumstances that had precipitated it but those all too brief moments of blasting away at the Scaled Humanoid had been glorious.

Euphoric almost.

And then Drake Callahan, Dave Cougar and finally Big Dave had to break it up. For what? The good of Meltdown? A demonstration of the new GM's control over his show? If Big Dave had any real clue about forward planning, then he would have allowed Barbosa's experiment continue to its inevitable conclusion?

Then Barbosa would be free to take part in whatever match, feud or gimmick that Big Dave could throw at him.

Like this Supershow Battle Royale next week.

Normally, Barbosa would be overjoyed at an opportunity to not only regain his WZCW World Heavyweight Title but also to take part in such a chaotic multi-man match. He had already proven himself to be exceedingly dangerous in the similar Lethal Lottery on two separate occasions and would surely have been seen as one of the favourites to move on to the Unscripted main event with Holmes, Callahan and Cougar.

But now he had his own agenda.

It was not someone else's; not Kurtsey's, Kravinoff's or Ty Burna's. It was his own. And nothing was going to prevent him from following it to that inevitable, grisly conclusion.*

Barbosa: "Break SHIT!

Smash SHIT!

DESTROY SHIT!"

*And so that is why Barbosa was sat outside this office waiting for a meeting while a secretary tapped away mindlessly at her keyboard whilst answering the phone with that upward inflection that made everything sound like a question; that agenda was also why Barbosa kept the bubbling volcano of an outburst under control.

He had a question he needed answered and this meeting was with one of the three, well, four men that could answer that question.

**RING RING**

Having said that, even with reflected sympathy and social conditioning, if that meeting did not take place soon, that volcano might not be controllable for much longer…*

Yes, sir?

Uh huh.

Yes, I'll send him right in???

Mr Barbosa? He will see you now???

*Each upward inflexion sends another shuddered through Barbosa but he manages to keep it together as he rises from his seat and enters the office without offering any indication to the secretary that he had heard here.*

Hmmpf! Wrestlers can be so rude???

*Ignoring the secretary's own outburst, Barbosa strides into the office. From behind the desk, Vance Bateman barely looks up from whatever meaningless paperwork he is combing through.*

Bateman: Take a seat, Mr Barbosa.

Barbosa: I'll stand.

Bateman: It is rather rude to stand when you have been offered the courtesy of a seat, especially when that someone is your...

Barbosa: I have one question and one question only.

Bateman: It is also rather rude interrupt some…

Barbosa: It is about this Battle Royale…

*Realising that he is not going to get anywhere with an etiquette lesson and worn down by a long day of pencil-pushing, Bateman allows his thoughts about the Supershow main event to seep out.*

Bateman: A dreadful idea…

Barbosa: I do not care about the match, the prize or even entering either… unless…

Bateman: Unless what?

Barbosa: SHIT.

Bateman: I'd keep your swearing to a minimum in my office, Mr Barbosa.

Barbosa: No… SHIT - Scaled Humanoid Industrial Technology. The cardboard automaton. The dick in the box.

Bateman: Ah yes, what about him/it?

Barbosa: Is he going to be in the Battle Royale?

Bateman: I have no idea.

Barbosa: Best you find out.

Bateman: I do not respond well to threats, Mr Barbosa...

Barbosa: It is not a threat. It is a promise. No SHIT, no Barbosa.

Now, if you will excuse me, I have another meeting to get to.

*With that, before Bateman can excuse him or more likely complain about being issued with an ultimatum from a contracted talent, Barbosa stomps back out of the office.*

Bateman: Hmmpf! Wrestlers can be so rude.

__________________________________________________
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

*Another office. Another secretary with her upward inflexions.

Rather than waiting for another few minutes all the while being bombarded by inane chattering and high rising sentences, Barbosa marches straight up to the office door and barks a question at the secretary.*

Barbosa: Is he in?

Yes, but you cannot go in without an appointment???

Barbosa: Sure I can.

*Barbosa storms through the unlocked office door to find his old "friend," Chuck Myles, with his back to the door reviewing some of the action from Aftershock 15.*

Barbosa: Myles.

*Unable to suppress a sigh, Myles tries to avoid eye contact.*

Myles: Barbosa.

Barbosa: About this Battle Royale…

Myles: Yes?

Barbosa: Is SHIT going to be in it?

Myles: Well, being neither a champion, a world title challenger nor a mentee, he is eligible. However, nothing has passed my desk regarding an official entry from him.

*Barbosa leans in over Myles' table, forcing the GM of Aftershock to look up at him.*

Barbosa: No SHIT, no Barbosa.

*Finally meeting the intruder's eyes and catching the drift of his short pronouncement, Myles nods his head and responds in the affirmative.*

Myles: Understood.

Barbosa: Good.

*With that, Barbosa marches back out the door as quickly as he had arrived.

Visibly relieved, Myles reaches into a drawer in his desk for a bottle of whiskey and shouts out to his secretary.*

Myles: Janine, hold all my calls and appointments for the next hour.

Of course, Mr Myles. Wrestlers can be so rude???

Myles: Quiet, Janine! He might come back if he hears you say that...
__________________________________________________
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

*Another office. Another secretary with her upward inflexions. Another door unceremoniously barged through.*

Barbosa: Dave.

Big Dave: Barbosa.

*It almost made Barbosa glad that the old warrior had risen from his desk at his impromptu entrance, taking up something of a defensive stance.

Corporate dealings had not so thoroughly dulled the steel of the man he had defeated for the WZCW title quite yet.*

Barbosa: I have just one thing to say.

Big Dave: So I have heard.

Barbosa: News travels fast through the secretarial ranks, I see.

*With that, Big Dave's secretary runs into the office to apologise for the intrusion.*

I'm so sorry, sir. We knew he was coming but we could not stop him. He just burst in here???

*Even though the confirmation of his deduction should have brought a smile to his face, instead Barbosa again has to fight to suppress another inflexion-inspired shudder.

Without taking his eyes off the intruder, Dave tries to sooth the flustered secretary.*

Big Dave: It is okay, Marjorie. A herd of rampaging wildebeest would not have stopped Barbosa from coming in here once he had decided to do so. And rather than discuss the last main event of Meltdown, Mr Barbosa is just hear to deliver a brief message and then he will be gone. Correct?

*Barbosa gives a curt nod before repeating what he had told Bateman and Myles.*

Barbosa: Supershow Battle Royale: No SHIT, no Barbosa.

*Big Dave returns the nod and repeats what he has been told.*

Big Dave: No SHIT, no Barbosa.

*Barbosa then leaves the office, content that his message has gotten across. He would be at the Supershow, but whether he took part would be up to others.

But wait.

Before the door can close behind him, another thought takes hold with Barbosa and he about-faces and marches back into Dave's office.

Locking eyes with the Meltdown GM, Barbosa utters one more word.*

Barbosa: Unscripted.

*After a few tense seconds, Dave responds with another curt nod and answers.*

Big Dave: That will be taken under advisement.

*Barbosa's eyes narrow somewhat having not gotten the immediate acquiescence he was looking for. However, after another few tense seconds, he breaks off the stare and leaves the room again, content that his message has gotten across.*

Hmmpf! Wrestlers can be so rude???

Big Dave: No, Marjorie. That is just Barbosa. And that is about as "polite" as he gets. It is SHIT that is going to see just how "rude" he can get…

 

[a0161613]

“They’re all here. Chris KO, Celeste Crimson, Titus; superstars will gather for a once in a lifetime opportunity. Former champions, promising rookies, jobbers of all sizes are going to Meltdown because they think they are the chosen one who will win the World Heavyweight Championship shot at Unscripted. But they are going to be disappointed because Destiny has rejected them all in one fell swoop.”

We see a small dimly lit room, which has candles and lamps dotted on shelves all over. In the centre of the room, floating just below the largest light in the room, are rows and rows of small crystal orbs that are arranged to resemble a chandelier. Each orb contains the face of a WZCW superstar and reflections of the dancing candlelight bounces around each spherical surface; the smiling portrait of a popular babyface like Matt Tastic are balanced by the devious grimace of a cocky sneer from Barbosa.

“These superstars are going to arrive at Meltdown thinking that it is their time; that their moment to shine is going to arrive in a matter of time. Their confidence will be misplaced. They are convinced that they will be the last man standing and enter the match at Unscripted. But I’m going to take great heart in shredding the hope of everyone who steps through the ropes.”

The origin of the voice is unclear until a male hand brings a larger transparent sphere up to the camera. Inside is an hourglass full of sand that tumbles through showing the steadiness of time flowing by.

Tick...tock...

“This is simply a matter of time. Its end will bring about crushed dreams; it will signal that the ultimate success is within touching distance. Destiny guides me to what is my true goal, a right and a massively significant accomplishment.”

Drip...drop...

“The Grand Mystique is running roughshod over the poor dregs who inhabit this company. Sure, Steamboat Ricky and Alex Bowen are blind to it so they think a match like this is theirs to lose. But they are stupid, closed only to hear the praise coming from their own internal monologues.”

“I’m willing to walk over the rest of the roster to get this opportunity, despite having already achieved all that should be necessary. I beat David Cougar; I beat the waif who is the current World Heavyweight Champion. It is sad that I need to qualify when I have achieved more than most of this roster has in one night. I should abuse any and all authorities to get into the match without having to perform like a monkey.”

“But I will not object. I will follow the same trials and jump through the same hoops, not because I have to but because I want to leave the roster and the fans in no doubt that I am the true superstar in waiting to become the World Champion at Unscripted. Winning that match is all the vindication I need.”

As if the cord has been cut, the crystal balls crash down to the wooden floor. The faces within disappear as the orbs are crushed and as the glass shatters, its’ pieces are sent flying across the roughened surface. The faces within the orbs dissipate and become wisps of smoke and dust in the air. The room is darkened and the Grand Mystique steps forward to take the full focus.

“One by one, hopes will be dashed and dreams will be cut short by the one who is most capable. And if the likes of Steven Kurtesy want to get in the way of destiny then I will smash them into pieces. I’m sick of selfish and heroic acts. WZCW superstars are self-servicing and gallant and this is what will be their downfall. I’m going to purge WZCW of their heroes and abolish the idiots who think that they can be the one to step forward and take their shot but it’s not going to happen like that.”

When the giant steps on the shattered glass, the smoke has disappeared. The masked man reaches down to grab a handful of the crushed orbs.

“When I enter the ring, you can be the superhero, the peaceful voice of the calm or the thrill-seeker, with your heart on your sleeve and pounding your chest. You don’t have to be the best, the fastest or the strongest; you just need destiny by your side. It’s not luck when you can command the sheer belief that your path is that of right and truth; it’s belief crushes everything.”

He raises his hand to inspect the remnants before closing his fingers to form a fist. Seconds later, a hint of blood flows from his hand but as he unfurls his hand, the glass has disappeared though the blood still remains.

“The true path is going to send the Grand Mystique into the main event of Unscripted, where the one outcome is going to be storied in advance. For when you are in hell, I am the one beast you do not want to live with. I am absolute and deserving of this opportunity because I have already beaten the World Heavyweight Champion. I am the one person that Showtime David Cougar doesn’t want to see in Hell with him. Steven Holmes and Drake Callahan will realise that they have no fear like the unknown quantity that I will bring into that match.”

As the Grand Mystique steps away, what is left of the floating orbs goes up in flames. He ignores this and walks towards a larger central orb that still features his dark blue mask. This orb is still perfectly intact.

“I am the darkness that encroaches at the end of every day; I inhabit the shadows that creep on you. If the very best are afraid of what I can bring, then nobodies like Derek Jacobs and Ricky Runn are going to barely able to bring themselves to face me. Much less is Alex Bowen who is not going to register.......”

His words trail off; not distraction, as there is not anything to detract the man from his task but there’s a different focus that fires in his eyes. But then we see it; the orb that featured his face now shows a hint of gold on a shredded background.

“For a lot of the roster, this match is an opportunity to make history, a chance to decipher the route to the main event. But I am the Grand Mystique and I know that there is more to than that; it’s not an opportunity, a chance. It’s the time to go and seize what is on offer. There isn’t just a chance to get into the match at Unscripted; it’s the opening to become at one with destiny, the WZCW World Heavyweight Championship.”

“Only then will WZCW be shown a hint of what has been unleashed upon them. The who’s, why’s and what’s of my existence, my return, may be answered sooner than you can believe. WZCW’s heroes can find out who is going to hunt them down to extinction. There’ll be no hiding; I want them to see me coming for them.”

 

[a0161613]

Shotaro has a 24hr extension.

 

[a0161613]

La caída de un gigante. El levantamiento de un dragón. Ahora el campo de batalla final se revela el corazón de un dragón ruge a través de los cielos, los dioses se lo temblorosos su paso!

The screen shifts to an ancient brick court deep in the heart of Mexico, the two sides of the court raised up with a lowered centered run almost the length of a football field. Stone seating rises up all around the court, almost like an arena. Two stone circles with intricate Aztec designs covering the entirety of the surface. One stone sits on opposite sides of the court. Standing in the center of the court is El Califa Dragón wearing baggy jeans and a white tank top. His trademark mask adorns his face, black with white designs this time around. His arms are crossed in front of his chest, staring straight at the camera.

I stand here today in one of my people's ancient courts. This is where the great game of Ullamaliztli took place. Legend has it that games would not be a mere two hour long break, it was a game that lasted days upon days, warriors fighting for the honor and glory of their factions, all in the name of the great Aztec gods! This is where my ancestors proved themselves, where their glory and their honor is all that mattered.

Califa drops his arms down to his sides, lifting his head up as he looks around the court for a few moments before stepping up onto one side of the court. He paces over to the large stone circle, running his hand along the various designs on the stone before taking a deep breath.

I can feel the presence of my people, their blood and sweat blessing this court. And just as my ancestors battled for honor and glory, so too will I at the WZCW Supershow. A battle royal, a shot at earning the right to fight for the World Heavyweight Championship. I did not anticipate such an opportunity would arise so soon, but it will be an opportunity that I absolutely must seize! I come in with the advantage, the unknown entity that is certainly the wild card. They will take me lightly, just as the monstrous Rush did and the results will be the same. I walk the same path of my people, the ring is my court, only unlike Ullamaliztli, I have no one to depend on other then myself. I will bring great pride and joy to my country. México celebró su dragón semana pasada, pronto lo celebran como el campeón del mundo!

Califa puts his head against the stone briefly before turning and jumping up and landing on the ledge between the court and the spectator seating, balancing delicately on the ledge but walking easily down the length of the court. He stops towards the end, turning and facing the other side before spreading his arms out.

To lose meant to become a sacrifice to the gods. To win meant a feast in your honor and the blessing of the high priest. This battle royal means just as much to me. To lose is to let down my great country, a consequence worse then death. But victory means everything. Victory means that I am just one step closer to becoming the best, to show that lucha libre is the superior wrestling style in the entire world! This is what I strive for, this is the opportunity to earn that chance, and it's not something I take lightly! I will not rest until my name is synonymous with greatness!

Califa suddenly leaps off the ledge and spins through the air, landing perfectly in the center part of the court in a crouched position. His arms remain spread out on each side before standing straight up. He points towards the camera as he speaks once more.

I am El Califa Dragón! I put the pride of my fellow Mexicanos on my back and I will never let them down! At the Supershow the roar of the dragon will be heard and the spirit of my opponents shall wither under its might! I t matters not who I face, the heart of a dragon shall always overcome! I was wrong earlier, I am not alone in this fight. My ancestors, the people that make up this great country, they are by my side and they will help guide me to victory. The gods shall smile favorably upon their dragon. I wear this mask with honor, it is my war paint as I prepare for this coming battle. It is my heritage to wear this mask, but a heritage I had to prove worthy of carrying on. Everything in my life I have earned, even just to merely fight in my ring was not a right, merely a privilege that I have had the honor of earning just as I will earn the right to battle for the World Heavyweight Championship.

Califa crouches down and picks up a rubber ball lying on the ground and tosses it back and forth between his hands. He speaks out loudly, his voice echoing throughout the arena.

Nothing will stop me from climbing to the top. Just as nothing stopped my ancestors from achieving victory here in this court. Bring upon your Grand Mystiques, your former champions and your favorites. They will all be incinerated from the fire raging deep inside the soul of this dragon! Victory shall be mine, and soon the World Heavyweight Championship wrapped tightly around my waist!

Califa tosses the ball high up into the air before jumping and connecting with a spinning kick, sending the ball flying through the air towards one of the stone circles. The camera follows the ball as it flies cleanly through the center of the circle. The camera spins back around quickly, as Califa walks slowly down the center of the court as faint images of Aztecs surround him, walking right alongside him dressed in full gear, their brightly colored headdresses noticeable alongside Califa's mask. The images disappear, leaving Califa alone as he stops at the end of the court.

A medida que el dragón se levanta sobre sus enemigos conquistados, aprenderán a respetar el poder que posee. Se va a temblar y encogerse como el rugido de los terremotos del dragón de la tierra misma y los propios cielos!

 

[ABMorales787]

Well.... I guess that's all the participants in the Battle Royal. Well, lets wrap up.

Leon Kensworth stand by the Gorilla position with a mic at hand. He prepares to leave but.....

Woah, hang on there.

Matt Tastic arrives.

You're going to enter the Battle Royal? What about Rush?

I'm assuming he won't be there given that he's a Champion.

So you plan to fight him and compete in the Battle Royal?

Well, like they say, you take your chances. I'm looking for a major fight. And this Battle Royal is one hell of a fight.

Well you do have a bit of experience with them. You did last from #1 and eliminated #30 at this years Lethal Lottery.

That's right. It's a shame Rush won't be there though. The thrill of tossing his overweight ass over the top rope will have to wait. But when this Man-Beast Machine goes out there, it doesn't matter who's in there, I'm chucking them out. It doesn't matter if it isn't Rush or if it's Doug Crashin, Barbosa, El... Como Diablos Se Llame Dragon, Ty Burna, Mitt Romney, Hurricane Sandy, mom, at that Battle Royal hunters are going to be lined up to shoot everyone flying. So many people will fly, they'll think it's duck season. Or wabbit season. Regardless. The fight is on and I want a piece of that action. If you mind, I'm heading out to Deliver some Kickassery.

Matt marches off to the ring. Many men look for a chance at the World Championship. Matt will join those men. Can he overcome the odds?

 

[MMSoldier]

???: You know, there are numerous places I’d rather wanna be at this point in time.

A plush hotel room opens this scene, with The Devil’s Dancer sitting on the bed, Leon Kentsworth standing next to him. The interviewer is in his standard suit and tie, while Flynn is wearing a red tee-shirt and jeans. Leon looks around the room before directing his attention to Jimmy.

Leon: What do you mean? This is a nice place.

Flynn sighs as he slides off the bed and looks out the window, grief across his face. His interviewer follows a short distance behind him, intrigued at what Flynn means.

Flynn: Leon, have you ever been removed from your home? Think of this for a moment: There are millions of people who are now without a place to live because of this tragedy. They are living through the worst moments of their lives from this, and it pains me that I can’t be up there to try and aid them. The people in New England can use all the help they can get.

Flynn sighs again, and turns to face Leon, who has listened to Jimmy’s rambling and is a more solemn person than he was before. Jimmy sits back on the bed as Kentsworth looks at him.

Leon: They’re getting all the help that can be given. Most states are in some semblance of normal.

Flynn: Still…

Leon feels one of his pockets, and pulls a piece of paper out of it, which he hands to the upset wrestler.

Leon: Even the company’s trying to do their part.

Jimmy looks at the paper for a minute, then looks up at Leon.

Leon: Even the company’s trying to do their part.

Jimmy looks at the paper for a minute, then looks up at Leon.

Flynn: Interesting, is there a schedule for this?

Leon: There is, but you don’t have a scheduled match…

Flynn: Then why the hell are you here?

Leon’s shock at the outburst is hidden quickly by a new face, unknown to the camera.

Leon: Two reasons: One, the company wanted something for the website…

Flynn: Ok, and you chose me.

Leon snaps his fingers, then nods.

Leon: Two, there is an open match that you are welcome to enter at the show.

Flynn snaps to attention when Leon mentions the battle royal. A steely determination washes over the Devil’s Dancer’s face as he turns to look at Leon.

Flynn: I’m in.

Leon: Just like that? You don’t even know what it is!

Flynn stands staring a hole into the smaller interviewer, who takes the hint and backs away quickly.

Flynn: Leon, to be quite blunt: I don’t care. I need to do something other than sit on my ass and wallow in misery. The match will let me go out and do what I love.

Leon: Ok, now then…

Flynn frowns, trying to remember what it was that Leon wanted to get to. The interviewer pulls out his microphone and Flynn nods.

Flynn: Right, let’s go.

Leon positions himself next to Flynn, and takes a breath before starting his moment.

Leon: Hello, people watching on WZCW.com. Today, in our exclusive interview, we have one of the newest faces in WZCW, who won his first match on Aftershock this last week. My guest, Jimmy Flynn.

Jimmy waves and smiles for the camera.

Leon: First, Jimmy, let me congratulate you for your win against Dean Miles in a hard fought match on Aftershock.

Flynn smiles at the interviewer and pats his shoulder.

Flynn: Thanks, Leon. It felt good to be out on a mat again. Even if it was just for a little bit, it was a good time out there.

Leon nods, and Flynn looks out the window that he was at earlier.

Leon: Now, WZCW has announced its next Super Show, in order to raise money for those affected by Hurricane Sandy.

Flynn: Yes, and I would personally like to thank the company for taking the initiative on this. I know many people who were hit by this storm, plus it went up near my hometown, and I want to express my best wishes to anyone who was beat by the hurricane.

Leon: And while you don’t have a scheduled match on this show, the night will be headlined by an open challenge to all non-champions: a over the top rope battle royal to determine the fourth man to be included in the World Championship match at Unscripted.

Jimmy looks at his interviewer with a fire in his eyes with the second mention of the match. He chuckles as Leon looks at him, intrigued.

Flynn: Yes, you’ve told me. And this is where I will announce my entrance into this match.

Leon grabs the piece of paper that he gave Flynn earlier and looks at the back of it.

Leon: As for other competitors, the only other confirmed entrant we have is WZCW’s White Knight, Chris KO. How do you feel about going up against the man who took Ty Burna out of the business?

Flynn rubs his chin and sits back on the bed as Leon repositions himself. He smiles and looks back at his interviewer.

Flynn: You gotta admit, that sounds like a good match. The White Knight against The Devil’s Dancer. That would get some people in here. But, overall, KO is a good wrestler who was put in bad positions, and he’s gotten chances before. I’m ready to take mine.

Leon nods as he returns his gaze back to the paper.

Leon: As for rumored contestants, at the time of recording this, only Derek Jacobs and Barbosa have expressed their interest about this match. What do you-

Flynn pulls the microphone away from Leon as the interviewer just stares.

Flynn: Leon, if they are the only two who have even talked about it, then there is an issue. This is the biggest match that is available for people to prove themselves. I’m going out there to show that this dancer knows how to go. I will go out and play this game not only for me. I’m going out for the people at home, the people of New England.

Jimmy stares directly into the camera, intensity glazing his features as he continues speaking.

Flynn: The people who have had one of, if not the, worst week of their lives will be turned around when one of their native sons, The Devil’s Dancer, Jimmy Flynn, wins the battle royal! They will rejoice when I go on to Unscripted and do the unscripted and challenge in the World Championship match. At that point, we will see where the cards lie.

Flynn turns back to Leon, who is stunned at Jimmy’s speech, and gives the interviewer his microphone. Jimmy smiles at the man, and then starts to walk away.

Jimmy: Thanks for the time, Leon.

 

[Lee]

Keystone City, Kansas. It is sunny and not a cloud in the sky. The scene is that of a river with many people swimming in it. Titus is stood watching.

============

New York City, New York. We're stood on a street. It is dark yet there is a bit of a hubbub. It seems so chaotic and so peaceful at the same time. There is a lot of water about. We see Titus stood with two other men.

Titus: Do you mind if I have a word?

Man A: Not at all, I'd be honoured.

Man B: As would I, I'm a huge fan.

This is something he's heard thousands of times but given the circumstance this is not his focus.

Titus: Thanks, I do appreciate it. So talking to you guys you said you've both come from Louisiana, correct?

Man A: That's right, it's been a long ride up here but we just had to do something.

Man B: Took us just over a day and a lot of money, but it's a small price to pay.

Titus: Why here? Why now?

Man A: Seven years ago we had the same thing happen to us, we lost our homes.

Titus looks rather sombre at this and wants to hear the story.

Man A: Yet people came from across the country to bring food and clothes for us.

The man pauses, visibly upset at what happened all these years ago. The second man takes over.

Man B: The best way to repay kindness is with kindness.

Titus: Some would call you both heroes for doing this, would you put that title on yourself?

Still shaken the first man responds.

Man A: No, we're not heroes. We're just two men who drove up here to do the right thing. If that's being a hero then the world is in a sad state of affairs.

Titus looks both nameless men in the eyes and shakes their hands.

Titus: A true hero puts others before himself.

============

Keystone City, Kansas. Back to the river scene. There's a rather low level bridge with people standing on it. There's a young man stood on the edge of the bridge and falls into the river. Cries of help ring out and there's only one man for the job.

============

Newcastle upon Tyne, England. I suppose the story about person falling in the river can wait. It's 11am on Sunday morning of the 11th day of November. There is a crowd of people, all in silence. This cuts through the cold crisp air. The silence is broken only for a few tears.

After the silence groups gather as reporters talk to various veterans.

Vet: Wow, Titus Avison. My old lady is a huge fan of yours, she especially likes that film where you play the Pope.

Titus: Thanks sir, I really do appreciate it.

Shorter in stature than most hobbling with a walking stick the man who approached Titus radiated respect. As Titus is in England he is also speaking with his standard British accent and not the American accent he mostly speaks in.

Vet: You're a good man. I love what you did for that American town, they really did turn things around. May I ask you a question?

Titus: Of course you can, but only if I can ask one too.

Vet: You're not even 30 yet you've done it all, do you ever feel like something is missing?

Titus: I do. That's what keeps me going though. If I had everything I wanted then what would be the point?

Vet: I married when I was 25. By then I had already been to war and she was everything I ever wanted. I've been happy for 65 years Titus. Find what you love and do it for the rest of your life.

The veteran pauses.

Vet: I believe you had a question for me.

Titus: You are one of the many heroes in this world. Is there anything you dislike?

Vet: The word hero. I have never called myself a hero and I never will. I always said I didn't believe in heroes and if they existed I wouldn't be one. I was just a sixteen year old boy who wanted to stop the Nazi's from taking over this country. That's not heroic, that's just doing what any good man would do.

Titus: A true hero is definitely humble.

Titus shakes hands with the vet.

============

Keystone City, Kansas. Titus is back to his normal accent. You may recall that someone had fallen off a bridge into a river. The screams of people asking for help was quite loud. We return to the scene to find that there are no lifebuoys to save the man. Quick as a flash a Red blur jumps off the bridge, dives in the river and rescues the man. Titus pulls him out as the crowd applauds that heroic gesture.

============

The Staples Centre, LA, California. Backstage we're stood with Titus and Stacey Madison.

Stacey: Titus, we're here in LA which I'm sure will bring back some memories for you.

Titus: I guess it does. Fifteen minutes from here is the Kodak Theatre or whatever they're calling it now.

Stacey: The highlight of your life?

Quicker than a flash Titus responds.

Titus: No. I guess it is prestigious to have had that many awards and when I'm at the end of my life I may think it is but right now? My focus is one thing, and one thing only. Something I have held twice and something I have lost twice. I'm talking about being world champion.

Stacey: So despite failing spectacularly the last time you want to give it a go. That is the highlight of your life? Over the fame and fortune? Over the Oscars? Over being Keystone City's...

Titus: Hero?

Stacey pauses and then gives Titus a stern look.

Stacey: I heard that you'd been in hero mode recently. Even saving a someone’s life.

Titus: I saved a man's life and WZCW cameras were on hand to get the footage? That doesn't strike you as odd? What if you could see the footage from another angle?

Stacey looks confused at this.

Titus: What if you saw me approach the man on the bridge? What if you could see me as the man who pushed him in? Even if I jumped into the river and saved his life? Would I be the hero?

Stacey: That's despicable.

Titus: It's also a complete fabrication. I didn't push the man in, but I did save his life. The camera was rolling because I was due to show a bit more of my adopted town. Yet the thought is there. So what was the question I asked?

Stacey: If you saved someone but you caused the problem would you be a hero?

Titus: I know the answer. You know the answer. Everyone in the arena knows the answer. It's just one man who doesn't know the answer.

Stacey: So who is that?

Titus: The White Knight...

Titus grits his teeth as he speaks, almost refusing to say his name.

Titus: Chris K.O.

Titus pauses and looks up at the ceiling before directing his gaze straight back at the camera.

Titus: But Titus, I hear you say. How can you dislike Chris K.O. He's a hero, he saved WZCW, we love him! What did he save WZCW from? The mess that he brought? The chaos and darkness that he and his cronies ran rampant with? He brought us into that mess and I was one of the people who tried to put a stop to it. Hey no one remembers that though do they? He stopped the great Ty Burna something I couldn't do but it doesn't matter that Chris brought us into this mess.

Now he has his goal, to win the world championship. That is why I'm in this match Stacey.

Stacey: So you can get a chance to win the belt again?

Titus: No my dear. It's to make sure there is justice. See a true hero is humble. A true hero puts others before himself. A true hero fights for justice. Is it just that he can do this yet waltz in here like nothing is happen? I hope to goodness that every man and woman who loves this company will put their collective effort against him when this Supershow starts. I hope that everyone who cares for themselves would realise he screwed them over and go for him. I don't think he's aware of what he's up against.

Stacey: What if they don't care? What if they're in it for themselves? That is the ultimate goal, to win that match. Every man for himself.

Titus: Then the White Knight has the Red Mask to contend with.

Stacey: Even though he's put on 15 pounds?

Titus: Does that matter? He may have bulked up a bit but that means diddly squat in this business. Can you remember Manzo? Yeah I coped with him fine. What about Toyota? I could list many an opponent bigger than Chris that I have beaten in this ring. Does it concern me? No.

Stacey: You seem to be resting on your laurels a bit too much.

Titus: It's using that as the foundation to build a legacy greater than I have ever known that keeps me motivated. The past and future mixed together into the present. The White Knight will know what I am capable of during that Battle Royale.

Titus walks off leaving Stacey as the camera fades to black.

 

[Dave]

A WZCW ring in the middle of an excited and effervescent audience. Inside of the ring, Truman Harrys stands, microphone in hand. The smile on his face is wider than usual. The words “WZCW House Show” scrawls along the animated advertising banners high up in the gantry, almost hidden amongst the rapturous crowd. The familiar horrifying chords of Ozzy Osbourne’s “Let Me Hear You Scream” echoes around the arena, engulfing the mesmerised flocks at ringside in a cacophony of noise. The usual bursting of fireworks and beautiful pyrotechnics further assault the senses as Truman Harrys' dulcet tones begin to drown out the music.

Harrys: Welcome, members of the WZCW family, to another world class offering of wrestling, super-stardom and sheer excitement.

The crowd burst into life again, letting excitement seep out of every pore they have. Their signs are hoisted high into the air as Truman Harrys continues his opening pitch.

Harrys: Tonight, we have a great show lined up for you. Some of your favourite superstars are here, and tonight, they're going to show you exactly why you come to see us every single night.

Another euphoric cheer rises into the air, surrounding and consuming everything in it's path. The fans are hanging on the middle-aged announcers words.

Harrys: So, without further ado, let me introduce a-


Truman Harrys stops his introduction, as John Constantine's music begins to blare around every corner of the arena. The fans are on their feet, their lungs bellowing their end. After a moment, a very conservative looking John Constantine appears on stage, clutching the King For A Day briefcase tightly to his chest. He doesn't seem like himself. In fact, his demeanour is a apparent departure from his usual confident self. His eyes dart from side to side, scanning the pronounced audience that assault his senses. He moves down the ramp, a tense look plastered all over his face.

Harrys: Uh- Ladies and gentlemen, please join me in welcoming the King For A Day winner, John Constantine.

Constantine is dressed in his usual suit but it is not done to it's usual standard. His tie is somewhat skew s it partly hides behind the heavy metal briefcase. The lace on his right shoe is untied and flutters as his stained shoes make their way towards the ring. Fans at ringside shoot their hands out to reach the KFAD winner but he seems less than happy to greet them. In fact, his facial expression would signal the exact opposite sentiment. As he reaches the ring, he slides under the bottom rope, not allowing the briefcase to leave his grasp for even a second. He gets to his feet and makes a dash towards a very stunned Truman Harrys. Constantine grabs the microphone from his grasp and then moves back into the middle of the ring, a look of sheer and intense anger on his face.

Constantine: You cheer!

There is another massive cheer as the Power Trip addresses the noise of the masses.

Constantine: Yes! You! And You! You cheer to!

Constantine rhythmically points at people in the crowd as he mouths the words. The fans cheer as he points each and every time. They are lapping up his attention.

Constantine: Yes, no matter how many times I come out here and physically dominate someone, no matter how many times I come out here and beat some rookie to a pulp and possibly finish off his career, you'll all still cheer for Constantine!

A unanimous chant of “CON-STAN-TINE” begins to echo around the arena. Constantine s******s out loud and it is caught by the microphone. There is a brief moment of silence as the Power Trip paces around the ring, his arm still hugging the KFAD briefcase.

Constantine: For too long now, I've been the Power Trip of the people. I've been the white knight that Chris KO wishes he could be. I've been the man that you'll all flock to see no matter what. I've been the man that has been worth paying your hard-earned dollars for.

There is a muted sense of change in the crowd. The applause and cheering has all but disappeared now. Some of the more loud-mouthed fans have begun hurling abuse at The Power Trip, much to his delight. A wide smile begins to crawl upon Constantine's face. His sense of eagerness becomes apparent as he presses on.

Constantine: FOR TOO DAMN LONG!

The crowd jump up as The Power Trip tells down the microphone. Immediate booing begins, small at first.

Constantine: I came into this company, the man that you loved to hate, the man that would tell you the real truth. Yes, I was John Constantine, the person that men would fear and would make you tremble on the street were you lucky enough to come across me. But I was wrong. I know that you all want me to cash this case in. You want me to go into battle with Drake Callahan or Showtime David Cougar and win the belt from their oppressive clutches.

There is a muted cheer from the crowd. They like Constantine's message but not the way he is delivering it.

Constantine: But no! This case is mine and it will forever be mine. You don't know what it is like to chase a dream and be so close but so far away. You worthless peons have no idea what it is even like to have ambitions in the first place. You carry on with your workaday lifestyle hoping that your six-figured saviour will come along. You don't know what it is like to work hard for something and achieve what you always wanted. But I do!

Constantine continues to pace around the ring as a few beads of sweat begin to roll down his brow.

Constantine: I worked too damn hard to win this briefcase and I'm never letting it go. Because this briefcase signifies that I am better than all of you lazy and ignorant morons. This one piece of metal and the contract inside it, lets you know that I, John Constantine, am your superior in every single way.

A flurry of boos begin to reign down on The Power Trip now. He revels in it.

Constantine: At the WZCW Supershow, I couldn't care less if I come out of it as a winner or not. The reality of the matter is that I already have a guaranteed shot at the WZCW Heavyweight Championship. Hell, I might not even compete in the match! I might sit in the back and watch the lowlifes of WZCW chase after something that I have already caught. Watch them tear each other and themselves apart in the quest of getting a WZCW title shot. And when their bones are broken and their muscles are weary and they have won the Heavyweight Championship... Then my moment will come. John Constantine will cash in his title shot and all of it will have been for nothing. Whether it is tomorrow or Kingdom Come, I will be World Heavyweight Championship and there is simply nothing anyone can do about it!

At that, Constantine drops the microphone and rolls under the bottom ring as booing begins to flood the arena. He is still fiercely protective of the piece of metal that it is in his hands but he looks much happier than his first appearance as his music begins to play.​

 

[Remix]

Alexander's Office - STA Headquarters

Alexander turns off the television as Vega submits to Wunderbar and turns his attention to Connor. "A success, I think you will agree Connor."

He nods once. "It did come off well, sir but what about the Mayhem championship? After our ploy with Wunderbar I'm no longer in contention for the title."

"That is an acceptable sacrifice. The Monkey will have his fun this week. We must focus on other things." He places his hands on the desk. "I have received advance word about WZCW's plan for their next show. There will be a Battle Royale for a spot in the World title match at Unscripted featuring the majority of the roster."

Connor pauses to take the information in. "And you expect me to win." His tone makes it clear that's not a question. "How do you want me to train for this? Double sessions in The Circus?"

"No, Connor. What you need to win a Battle Royale cannot be found by training alone. Physical skills matter very little in such an environment. No talent is required to throw a man over the top rope. No, the most important weapon is your mindset. If you doubt that you are good enough to headline a WZCW show for even a moment that is the moment you will be eliminated. If you doubt that anyone in the ring is anything but your inferior you will be unable to send them to the ground. To control others you must first be in control of yourself."

"Have you been speaking to Hiraku again, sir?"

Alexander doesn't laugh. "You are to appear as a headliner of the debut show of the newest SWN affiliated federation. Sascha has arranged transport and accommodation. You depart in two days."

"Is that all, sir?"

"Not quite. Connor, Peter Ken is scheduled to appear on the show as well."

Connor intercepts. "And Kara will be there too." His jaw clenches in spite of his attempts to retain his composure. "Thanks for the warning." Not giving Alexander a chance to continue he turns to the door.

Five days later - Backstage of SWN: Louisiana debut show

The show must be close to over. Connor doesn't know for sure, he'd spent most of it sitting in his dressing room. It was easier than confronting the elephant in the room - or more accurately in the sea monster in the Gorilla position. A knock on the door breaks the grim silence he's been sitting in. "It's open."

Kara opens it. Perfect. "Con, you're up."

He stands, brushing past her and taking the microphone in her hand. "After my music hits, tell the boys that there's going to be a schedule 5." He walks off towards the curtain.

"WHAT! Are you shitting me?"

"Nope" He reaches the curtain and nods to the sound man.

"Don't you dare go out there Connor!" She must have been furious to resort to calling him that.


Not that it would stop him. He steps through the curtain to the 500 or so booing fans. Not bad for a bush league federation. He slides into the ring and turns on the microphone.

"Wow, New Orleans." The crowd pops for the name of their town. Idiots. "I can't think of a better place to be contractually obligated to stand in front of 500 people." The crowd boos mildly, not a bad start but still a long way to go. "But as much as I could say about this town, I've got bigger fish to fry." He pauses a moment. "While I've been here, I've been taught the meaning of Southern hospitality. Everyone I've met has greeted me politely and with a smile and perfect manners. Everyone that is except for one person." He lowers the microphone to inhale. "A man who once upon a time I respected as a veteran wrestler. A man whose commitment to this business is beyond dispute. A man I want to talk to face to face. So Peter, why don't you come on down?" Nothing happens. The crowd starts booing more. Still more to go until he reaches his goal. "Not coming out to play? Well maybe you're not sure exactly who I'm talking to. I want "Tornado" Pete Ken to come down to the ring. Come on, you used to be willing to travel 3,000 miles for a paycheque, what's an aisle?"


The figure of the once great wrestler finally appears. Connor opens the ropes for him. "Glad you could make it." He says sarcastically, noting the lack of a microphone. "Too much of a rush to grab one of these?" He waves his own in front of him. "Well that's OK. I don't really care what you've got to say, old man." The crowd gets louder with their disdain for Connor. He smirks, he hasn't even started yet. "No Pete, I stopped caring what you had to say when you tried to get me fired from WZCW and blackballed everywhere else. How'd that work out?" He laughs in the man's face. "No answer? Luckily I know exactly what happened. You called everyone you could think of to get rid of me and most of your 'contacts' hung up as soon as they realised who the number belonged to. Those that didn't had a two letter answer for you." He gets within inches of the old pro, eyes level. "I can see it in your eyes. You hate me, don't you Pete? There's no point in hiding it." The crowd's getting rowdier, but Connor doesn't move seemingly intent on Ken. "You're pathetic Peter, you truly are. You're a fat old has been with no balls and a liver in worse shape than this shithole after Katrina." Cheap, but effective the crowd is getting rowdier with every word. He's getting close.

"Oh you don't like what I'm saying to Petey?" He lets the crowd scream at him for a moment. "Well, it's about time the truth about this scumbag came out. There's a reason the man you're getting angry for has only got one family member who hasn't disowned him... yet. This is a man who hasn't spoken to his younger brother in three decades because he's 'a ******'; an egomaniac who screwed over his own brother to get a push; a sociopath who missed his mother's funeral because he might have been able to get some bookings in Japan." He backs away, and stars circling the cancer survivor. "Two brothers, a sister, three ex-wives, seven mistresses, countless flings and two dozen kids. And how many people saw you in hospital? Only Kara, the rest didn't even care enough to send a card. How many followed you into the family business? Just Kara. Hell, you got more people to quit wrestling than you did inspire to follow in your footsteps. And when I left her in a crumpled pile for the EMTs your blood boiled." The crowd is straining at the barricades. It shouldn't take too much more. "But not because you cared that I attacked her. Let's face it, you barely saw her while she was young, and even now you'd leave her in your rear view mirror if you weren't physically unable to wrestle. You got angry because I killed off the only chance that your family had to remain relevant. The Ken wrestling dynasty, the one thing other than yourself you care about will die with you. Kara's the only other Ken in the business, and let's face it nobody cares about the ring rat division. I was the only chance you had to have a son-in-law who'd carry on your family's legacy into the future and that kills you. When she marries some nobody and has kids that amount to less than nothing that means you failed your Dad." He looks out at the crowd, straining at the barricades, security working overtime to keep them back.

"But guess what. It's too late, you already did fail. Your career ended with you widely reviled as a past his prime fatass who doesn't know when to hang up your boots, without a penny in the bank. The only reason you've been able to pay the rent is because Alexander Stark gave you a handout by appointing you as head trainer at the first SWN school he opened. And deep down you know everything I've just said is the truth. I could lay you out right now and you'd take it like the bitch you are before watching me climb to heights you never reached. I'm the first of the next generation, the poster boy of an emerging era, the future legend. You are as you've always been. A nobody who thinks he's a star." It's time. Connor swings around, his elbow colliding with Peter's chin. The old man topples. The crowd finally has enough, forcing their way through gaps in security and flooding the ring area looking to tear Connor limb from limb. Wrestlers charge down the aisle to take control of the situation. In the chaos, Connor vanishes.

The riot would probably make the local news. Connor was billed for the next New Orleans show. If there were less than a thousand fans he'd be positively disappointed.

He is ready to ascend.

 

[Thriller Ant]

The scene opens in Brother Mason Westhoff’s beautiful office, with the man himself sitting in his large leather chair with his back to the camera. The camera is aimed over Brother Westhoff’s left shoulder, with only the outlines of his body and desk and a video screen clearly visible due to a lack of light. On the screen in front of him, the following scene plays:

Saxton delivers his other finisher; Black Lightning! The devastating kick leaves Westhoff lifeless, and with no Jacobs to save him, the pin is an easy one: 1...2...3!

Just as the referee’s hand slaps that mat a third time, the video rewinds and begins to play again.

Saxton delivers his other finisher; Black Lightning! The devastating kick leaves Westhoff lifeless, and with no Jacobs to save him, the pin is an easy one: 1...2...3!

Again, the video rewinds right after the three count is made. The video plays once more, but this time, in slow motion. The impact with which Saxton connected with Brother Westhoff’s face seems even more vicious, as it is clear that he was out cold before he came anywhere close to hitting the mat. Saxton covers Brother Westhoff, with the video pausing just after three.

There it is. The first time I succumb to a fall in WZCW. The first time Brother Jacobs and I get a chance to face the goofball idiots masquerading as champions with no one else involved. Just two on two, one fall to a finish. This was destined to be the night that The New Church proved that we are the best tag team in WZCW. Despite our best efforts, it was not to be.

Brother Westhoff reaches out with his left hand and begins fiddling with a pen, twirling it between his fingers and intermittently tapping it on the desk.

No one likes failure. Most people do their best to avoid it. I, however, have managed to do what most cannot and avoid failure my entire life. Anything and everything I have set my mind to, I have accomplished. I was told that no one would believe me about The Almighty. Now, I have a congregation that numbers in the thousands. Then they told me that I would never build the worship space I had envisioned where I had envisioned it. You can look around the room we are in now to see how that went.

Brother Westhoff tosses the pen onto his desk and rises to his feet. The camera follows him as he walks around his office, admiring the various objects on the bookcases despite the relative darkness.

I don’t consider our loss on Ascension as a failure. A disappointment or a setback, yes, but not a failure. The WZCW Tag Team Championship is the ultimate goal of Brother Jacobs and me. As strange as it may seem, the Supershow Battle Royal this week may the perfect opportunity for us to prepare for that goal.

You see, there are very few matches as chaotic as a battle royal. It’s more of a bar fight than a wrestling match. Bodies everywhere punching, kicking and grabbing to achieve one goal: be the last man standing. I must admit that I am quite excited for this to be my first foray into competition solo.

Brother Westhoff pauses for a moment to rearrange some knick-knacks on top of a bookcase. He chuckles to himself before continuing.

It’s funny, I plan to enter this match, but not for the reasons that most do. I plan to enter to help prepare for the next time Brother Jacobs and I step into the ring with Saxton and Saboteur. They didn’t defeat Brother Jacobs and I with superior wrestling or strategy. They won by creating chaos in and around the ring, chaos that we were not properly prepared for. By entering a battle royal, a match designed for chaos, I will be that much more equipped for a future tag title opportunity.

Most of the men entering this match will do so hoping for their chance at the WZCW World Title and the glory that goes along with it. This is not to say that I wouldn’t make the most of the opportunity if I were to receive it, especially if that is the plan The Almighty has for me. To put it simply, I will walk out of the Supershow one step closer to some kind of championship gold, be it tag team or world. I will succeed in having one of those belts around my waist because, gentlemen…

Brother Westhoff turns the screen off, plunging the room into almost complete darkness.

I do not fail.

 

[Uncle Phatso]

The scene opens up with Alex sitting at a dinner table, Candles are lit, a feast is sure to be had. Bowen's head is freshly shaven, and his ever present beard is combed. Two plates are fixed, and the second chair is pulled out, Bowen's company for the night must be late. He leans down and holds his head in his hands. The company is about ten minutes late, Bowen scratches the side of his head, and sighs deeply. A few minutes pass, and finally a Doorbell rings. Bowen shoots out of his depressed demeanor, and briskly walks to the front door. Dodging things here and there, in his smaller house, he finally makes it to the front door. Opening it he is met by a woman in a small black dress, she almost plows him over. It's Lilith and she is giving him a bear hug that the biggest of submission artists would be proud of. Bowen kisses her on the cheek, and turns pulling her to the dinner table. Pulling out her chair, she sits, down and Bowen makes his way to his chair​

Alex- I'm glad you came over, I thought you had stood me up! It's been a crazy couple of weeks, I can't believe I ran into you outside of the Power House. Do you understand, really how long it's been?

Lilith can use whatever she wants, she can lie, use product, anything, but her ID wouldn't lie. She is seven days older than Alex, born on the 14th of November, Alex Was born just a week later.​

Lilith- Oh it's been quite some time, I remember seeing you on T.V a few times. I even tried to look you up after you got out of Jail. I even went to one of your shows, A long time ago. But you were with some woman, and she had a little girl by her side. I thought it was best not to say anything. She isn't around still is she?

Alex- Not really she divorced me about four years ago. I'm not a cheater, or a liar, but I was never really there for her. She tried to keep on the road with me. But this really kind of swallows you up, you know?

Lilith- Not really, I know what you've told me... that's about it.

Alex- It's not an easy life for one person, but when you put it all on the line, every night. It can wear on even the toughest partner. I'm not sure how it really started, but when it all comes down to it. Two hundred dollar pay checks to rip your body apart didn't cut it. I was doing that for ten years.

Lilith- Are you mad that you did it? It seems like you love the sport, you're still in it.

Alex- I'm not mad that I stayed in wrestling. I never wanted to be like my dad, and this is all I'm good at. But when I look back I'm more like him, than I ever thought possible. I was a roaring drunk, trying to will away the pain every day. I never beat her, or cheated. But I wasn't a husband, or a father.

Bowen shakes his head, and lets out a deep sigh.​

Lilith- The way you talk now, you're trying to move past that. Trying to go to higher places! I'm proud of you, Alex. I'm not lying when I say this, I'm glad you're talking to me again. It seems like you've traveled a long road, Alex. I'm glad you're going places now. It's never to late.

Alex- Agreed.

Lilith- What's was it like?

Alex- What was what like? I'm not following?

Lilith picks up her fork and pokes around at the food on her plate.​

Lilith- I saw what you did to people Alex, how did you do that? I'm sorry, but I would have to agree with your wife... I watched your videos. They weren’t matches, you were trying to hurt people. I went back and saw a lot of your matches, how do you call that wrestling?

Alex- Why are you attacking me? It's not like I was beating up defenseless people. They were there for the same thing.

Lilith- But it looked like you enjoyed it.

Alex- I did, that's what you have to be in this business. No one is going to lay down for you, so I made them lay down. That's exactly what I have to do in the Battle Royal, if you want to win, you have to let people know you are the top dog. The whole vibe backstage with me is a joke, but I could really care less what they think. People look at me differently, they think I'm soft. I mean I guess I can't blame them, I've won a tag team match since beating Ricky. But this is a chance, luck has nothing to do with it. This is the kind of match that I really can survive in. No one in the company has taken the punishment that I have and survived!

Lilith- You act like you have to hurt people...

Alex looks at Lilly with wide eyes.​

Alex- What do you think this is, patty-cake? A man smashed a crystal globe in the back of my head at the last pay per view. It's gone past show now, he's in water that few have ever dared to tread in. I have no real clue what his beef is, but Lilly, I'm going to make sure this ends. He's sat back and been a log jam in front of me for long enough. Grand mystique makes me sick... He's just like the rest of them, this is a company, and I know they have to do what's right to make money. But I know for a fact, that with a good match I can make each and everyone of the fans buy my stuff. I don't need a super cool gimmick, or flashy flips, and jumps.

Lilly has been eating her food, and carefully hearing out what Bowen has to say. He shakes his head and takes a deep breath. Reaching forward he takes the glass in front of him, and takes a huge gulp of water. Lilly looks at Bowen, and shakes her head.​

Lilith- I really don't know anything about wrestling, and that's the truth. But I'll support you, if this is what you want to do. It's important to you.

Alex- It is important to me. I always have a plan, that's something that people have always said about me. Bowen is just a neanderthal with a kendo stick, swinging it here and there. Even Baez said it about me. But that's funny, how did I survive this long? I was older, and in worse shape than most of the roster, but I'm still here. It's because I'm smarter than most of them. This isn't a singles match, it's a match for survivors, and that's what I've been my whole life. Everyone wants to win that title, and they will take any chance to do it. Well that's not me, Lilly, I know how to make the most of my time. Screw hitting the big finisher, or Wowing the crowd. They can remember my name after I win this thing, and then win the title.

Lilith- You also have more on your plate than most of them, GM could be waiting for you anytime.

Alex- That's to true, I'm not totally going to let that weigh on my mind. I'm not a normal roster member, I've ground Wzcw's greatest hero’s into dust. I helped plunge this whole company into darkness, now it's my time to rise above the rest. I'm not a jobber for life, I'm not going to let the Mayhem division define, Alex Bowen anymore. I'm going to take this company by it's balls, hold it hostage until I get what I want. This will be my shot, this will be my night.

Alex raises up his glass for a toast, Lilly follows suit.​

Lilith- To the next world champ.

Alex- Cheers... this whole company can hold its breath and wait. This is my time, no one will stop that. They can all face the colossus.

Bowen puts down his drink, and points a finger into his chest.​

Alex- Because I back down from no one...

 

[Richard Blonoff]

A loud banging echoed throughout the quiet house. A cool draft could be felt seeping through the cracks around the door. The banging continued.

I'm going in there.

Give him some more time.

All he has done since Apocalypse is sleep and drink.

Dinah shook her head at James.

His girlfriend of three years is gone. How would you react if I just up and left one day?

James didn't respond. He just kept his attention on the floor.

Not to mention he spent a few of those days in the hospital after the attack.

The look of anger on James' face was evident. He was still clearly sour over the incident.

I should still go check on him.

Dinah silently nodded her approval.

When James opened the door it was like he stepped into an entirely different world. The floor, usually littered with video games and comic books, was littered with empty bottles. The smell of alcohol was still fresh on some of them.

Dinah stuck her head in for a quick peak, and quickly retreated to a safe distance. The sight and smell hit her and upset her already fragile stomach.

James made his way through the mess to the bed. He pulled the covers back, and instantly regret his decision.

Is he okay?

Dinah called from the hallway.

Yeah, but don't come in. Mikey is completely naked.

James pulled the cover back up over Mikey's waist and tried to wake him. The only response he got was a mumble and some stirring.

Out of the corner of his eye he noticed a piece of paper. Curiosity got the best of him and he picked it up. He expected it to be the Dear John letter, but what he read was even more surprising.

Just by writing this it proves I’m not over you in the way I convince myself
Long ago I tried to write you off when I pulled this book off its shelf
You had the world in your hands and you threw it away
I want you to know though that on my thoughts you don’t as often weigh
We had it all and we wanted nothing less
To have received you I thought I must have been blessed
You broke my heart though and into a million pieces it was shattered
I look back at you and realize to you I never really mattered
I used to say thanks for making me the person I grew into
It is only now that I realize I am someone entirely different thanks to you
I would like to forget your smile each time we awoke
And I want to forget your voice from each time you spoke
I want to forget how I was hurt and how I cried
Most of all I just want to forget how I ever tried
I could kiss a million people and it would never compare
To when I laid next to you and ran my fingers through your hair
You left me sitting here cold broken and alone
With a loneliness that gave me chills down to my bone
Of all you ever did to make me the person I didn’t want to be
The most important probably the one thing that you will never be able to see
Because strength is born from heartache
And because of your actions I am now finally awake
Able to see to the end any pain I may go through
And the strength to finally be able to get over you

I see you found my poem.

Mate, this is decent. I didn't know you could write poetry.

I rolled out of bed. James turned just in time to see me bending over to pull on some pants.

Damn, I did not need to see that.

I fell back into bed and reached under it, searching for something. I pulled out a partially empty bottle of vodka and sat next to James.

You didn't need to see that either.

I tapped the paper with the bottle before taking a long drink.

It wasn't bad. You may just have a hidden talent.

I took another drink.

I have a few things I'm good at that I keep to myself.

Why?

I reach for a shirt on the ground and start to pull it on.

Is that a puke stain?

I look down at the stain. I pull the shirt off and throw it across the room, then reach for the next closest shirt.

Because over the last few years I've found that it is easy to be Mikey, but it is harder to be Michael.

James shoots me a puzzled look.

Mikey is that guy that most of the fans cheer. The goofy guy who is all smiles. The guy who goes out and and horses around with Ricky Runn for five minutes instead of having an actual match. He is the guy who tells the announcers to order him take out when he is staging a sit in. That guy is easy to play.

I pause to finish off the bottle.

Michael is the guy most people don't see. The guy who wrote that. The guy who cries when he sees abused animal commercials on TV. The guy who made a girl way out of his league fall in love with him. The same guy who pushed her away. The guy who has trouble juggling his private and public life.

The two of us sit in silence for a few minutes.

Look at me. I'm not ready to come back, but I have to. I have to keep outdoing myself, I have to keep smiling, that is what being a good guy is all about.


Are you ready for that? I can find out who attacked us, I can get revenge.

I'm not ready, I just told you. Frankly I don't care who attacked me. Right now I don't care about anything. I could up and quit tomorrow and I would be happier. Michael would be happier, but the fans don't love Michael. They don't accept Michael. They love and accept Mikey, and that is who I have to go out there and be. I don't give a damn about this battle royal. I don't give a damn about The New Church, or Krypto, or Saxoteur. I could care less if Chris K.O. or Steven Holmes, or Darren Bull ran the company. Sometimes I feel like I'm not supposed to be here. Sometimes I wake up, I don't want to be here. Others I wish I would have never tried to be a pro wrestler. It changed everything. My mom loved to text me. She doesn't look at me like I’m the same person. I used to be the sweet one, but things changed. Now I just keep going out there and doing what the fans want, that way someone will accept me. My whole life I wanted to be part of the cool crowd, part of the winning team, but considering the person I have become, alone is exactly how I deserve to be.

James takes a moment before he speaks.

You have people who accept you. Dinah and I have grown to actually like having your around believe it or not. Your family allows you to come back anytime you want, and you have Ros...

He stops when he realizes his faux pas.

Sorry.

Did I ever tell you how we met and eventually came to be?

James simply shook his head no.

I take a deep breath and begin my story.

About five years ago I was at a party. Don't ask why I went, I think a friend dragged me along to get me out of the house. World of Warcraft: The Burning Crusade had just came out and it was taking up most of my free time. He said a high school senior should be doing things other than guiding a Dwarf Hunter through made up lands. Anyway I spend most of the party glued to the wall. I wasn't a big drinker back then. After my third or fourth soda my bladder was ready to explode. As I made my way to the bathroom I saw a girl crying in one of the upstairs bedrooms. My naturally altruistic personality kicked in and I went to check on her. This guy she had been crushing on hard had rejected her and she was upset over it. For the next hour or so I sat talking to her and getting to know her. It took me an hour to fall in love. Once she stopped crying she went back out to the party, and I thought I would never see her again. I didn't want that though. I ended up neglecting my guild almost every weekend. I was going to parties like a Hollywood ****e, just trying to see her again. Finally I was at a graduation party a few months later when I ran into her again. I tried all night to work up the courage to talk to her. Finally I put all the nervous shit out of my mind and went for it. She was a little tipsy, and most of the talk was nothing more than her talking about wanting to be a singer, and her drunkenly telling me she thought my hair was cute. I couldn't keep the courage I had and let her walk off that night. Graduation came and went, and by societies standards I was a man at that point. That summer I thought it would be me and few friends hanging out, getting into some trouble, kicking some alien ass in Halo, and enjoying life before college. It ended up just me and her. I liked her and she liked me and I more than liked her, but I didn't know if she did or did not more than like me. She never said, so I didn't say anything all summer. I was content to enjoy the small miracle of a girl choosing to talk to me and choosing to do so again the next day and so on. A girl who was smart and funny and who, if I said something dumb for a laugh, was willing to say something two or three times as dumb to make me laugh, but who also got weird and wise sometimes in a way I could never be. A girl who read books that no one had assigned to, a girl who had blue eyes that made me feel like I was lost floating somewhere in the sky.

I shifted my weight, and I wiped a single tear from the corner of my eye. James still sat, surprisingly intent to enjoy my story.

It was like that until the weekend before I left for college. That Saturday we sat on the bank of the river, just talking about nothing, but to me it was everything, but the reality was I was going to go off to school soon, and unless her family made a drastic move, I would be pretty far away, and it would probably be it for us. I had to say something, but with my track record if I said something it really would be it for us. The sun was setting, and our conversation had gotten quiet as we gazed out onto the calm waters. We sat in silence until the sun had creeped behind the horizon and we made our way back to my car. The hum of static from my broken radio was the only sound there was for much of the drive. All of a sudden I broke the silence. “Can I tell you something?” Then I was telling her. And I kept telling her and it all came out of me and it kept coming and her face is there and gone and there and gone as we passed underneath the lights that lined the sides of the highway. And there’s no expression on it. I think just after a point I was just talking to lengthen the time where we lived in a world where she hadn't said “yes” or “no” yet. And regrettably I ended up using the word “destiny.” I don’t remember in what context. Didn’t matter. Before long I was out of stuff to say and she smiled and said, “okay.” I didn't know exactly what she meant by it, but it seemed vaguely positive. I would have loved to leave in order not to spoil the moment, but there was nowhere to go because we were in a car driving home.

What happened?

James interrupts, and despite him being older than me by a good five years, I feel like I am telling a bedtime story to a small child because of the look on his face.

Nerves took over and I shut up the rest of the ride. I dropped her off without a word. I don't remember the drive from my house to hers. All I remember is falling asleep as soon as I got home. The next thing I can recall vividly is arriving at college and kissing my mom bye when she and my dad left.

By this time Dinah had made her way from the hallway back into my room. James made room for her and she took a seat to hear me finish my tale.

A few days later I was in class, and I ended up seated next to this girl who I had gone to school with and been good friends with, and her parents moved away when we were nine or ten. Puberty and adolescence had done her a hell of a lot of favors body wise. We got to talking and she invited me to a small get together that weekend. Maybe it was peer pressure, maybe it was me trying to change who I was, but that night I wasn't myself. I shaved and gotten a hair cut the day after the invite. I went out and spent what was supposed to be my food money on all new clothes. When I arrived I wasn't Michael, or even Mikey, I was someone totally new. I had on a nice button up collared shirt, with a plain t-shirt underneath. There was no Spider-Man or Batman hiding behind dress clothes that night. I had on nice shoes and new pants, instead of the same old cargo shorts and sandals. I even wore contacts instead of glasses. Not that I needed them, because when I looked at her that night I had 20/20 hindsight.

I laugh at my own lame joke before I continue

Nothing that night was typical me, I got drunk for the first time. At the end of the night when I was usually in a rush to get home and get a few hours of gaming in, this night I was ready to literally get it in. I ended up having my first one night stand that night. Maybe it would have been more but as I stumbled to my dorm the next morning I checked my phone and had a voice mail. When I got back I listened to it.

Hey Mikey, this is Rose. I know I haven't talked to you since that night, I had to think about it long and hard. I think you are right though. Destiny was the perfect word. Over the summer I fell for you and I fell hard. I want you like I haven't wanted anything in my entire life. I just hope you feel the same way.​

The rest of the story you guys pretty much know. I left that evening after I sobered up and picked her up. Aside from the twist ending it was storybook.

Dinah is crying at this point. James puts a hand on my shoulder. I close my eyes and the room falls silent for a few minutes.

I look at you guys, you are in your late 20s, you are about to start a family. You two are pretty much the same people you are going to be your whole life. At your age, if you are a liberal person you are pretty much gonna be liberal your whole life. If you are conservative at your age, you are pretty much gonna be that way your entire life. If you are a girl who doesn't like oral, you better buy some cats and curl up with your Twilight books because you are gonna die alone.

James and I laugh a little, Dinah mostly lost to the joke.

I'm not there yet. I still have a lot of growing up to do. I'm twenty two but still feel like a child at times. Being a former tag team champion doesn't make me a man. Falling off a twelve foot ladder through four tables doesn't make me a man. Surviving a brutal blind side assault does nothing to help me grow up. I could be the first guy eliminated in the battle royal, or I could win the whole thing and go on to shock the world and be world champion. Those won't make me a man either.

This is all such a sad story.

I guess it is a story. It isn’t a story about how girls are evil or how love is bad though, it is a story about how I learned something and I’m not saying this thing is true or not, I’m just saying it’s what I learned. I wish I could say this was a story about how I got on that late night bus home a boy and got back here a man. More cynical, hardened, mature and all that bullshit. But that’s not true. The truth is a long time ago I got on a bus a boy. And I never got off that bus. Being with Rose was like a dream, maybe its time I wake up and face reality.

 

[Kermit]

Novum quest incipit!​

He signals for the end and locks in the Aristocracy Reigns a second time. Overcome by pain and fatigue Chris KO has no choice but to tap out.

Harrys: Here is your winner, Steven Holmes!

Chris: I have two words for you, Steven Holmes.

The camera zooms in on Chris’ pain-filled face after having tapped out to Steven Holmes.

Chris: Thank you.

The screen goes black for a moment, but then re-illuminates with a shot of Chris K.O. in a musty old gym. He is standing in front of a wall of mirrors as he curls weights - one in each hand. A waterfall of sweat has breached the dam of his forehead and has begun to stream down his handsome face. Only the occasional grunt that escapes from Chris’ mouth whenever he curls the weight can be heard in the still gym.

Chris: Thank you for releasing me from the standard that people, and myself, had unfairly put upon my WZCW career.

We cut to a shot of the burning casket at Redemption.

Chris: Defeating Ty Burna made me something that I was not.

We see the referee holding up the hand of Chris at Redemption.

Chris: A savior.

The camera remains zoomed-in on the hand that the referee is holding up at Redemption, but the scene suddenly transmutes over to the shot of Chris’ hand tapping at Apocalypse.

Chris: Now, the pressure is off.

We see Chris being helped up the ramp by EMTs at Apocalypse after his match.

Chris: Perfection is broken.

We cut to a shot of Ian Crawford sitting in the situation room. He is looking at a paper in his hands, but then slowly crumbles it up.

Chris: And Project Clean has practically failed.

…

…

…

Yet...

Back to the old gym we go, and we see Chris doing several push-ups on a mat. It is now clearly evident that he has gained some muscle mass since the first clip.

Chris: I have found some clarity through all of this. Questions like: Who am I?

We see a shot of Chris expelling the inner-demon inside his mind.

Chris: And; Why do I wrestle?

We see Chris at his father’s house after his father’s untimely death. We see him get teary-eyed as he watches several of the taped shows that Chris’ father had recorded of Chris. We then cut to a shot of him in a WZCW ring with the crowd cheering loudly for him.

Chris: Both seem easier to answer, now.

…

So, what now?

We cut back to a shot of Chris in the gym. He is on a Bowflex machine with his shirt off. He pulls the two grips in front of his chest as he grits his teeth. Finally, he releases and then repeats the process. Sweat coats his biceps and chest as the lone sound of clanking metal breaks the silence of the gym.

Chris: Colabit eam! Colabit eam! (Translate: Refine it! Refine it!)

We see Chris backstage after Apocalypse. He is sitting on a bench with a towel draped over his head. He is bent over as if he is in deep thought.

Chris: You start with the raw material.

We cut to a shot of Chris, dressed in business attire, shaking hands with another business-dressed man. A jar of muscle supplements then fades into the screen, signifying that Chris was making a deal with the distributor. We see Chris mixing it into a glass of water and then taking a drink.

Chris: Then you introduce strengthening elements.

We now see Chris remove his tie off of his collar. He appears to be in the situation room. The camera zooms back, and we see Ian standing opposite of him. Chris looks at his tie and then hands it over to Ian. At first, Ian looks a bit dry, but he finally smiles after seeing Chris crack his own smile.

Chris: Remove the imperfections.

We cut back to the musty old gym and see Chris doing sit-ups in a pair of sweats. Only his head is poking out of his fully gray attire. Again, covered in sweat, he pushes his body.

Chris: Colabit eam! Colabit eam!

We then cut to a shot of Chris inside of a ring that is located in the same gym. We see him clothesline an unknown man inside of it. After that, we see several takes of him clotheslining the man in different ways.

Chris: Forge.

We see Chris curling a rather large weight with his right arm specifically.

Chris: Refine.

Again, we see several shots of Chris clotheslining the man in the ring. This time, the move is a little more devastating than the last set of clips.

Chris: Forge.

We go to a shot of Chris pulling at a grip with his right arm. He grits his teeth as he pulls vigorously.

Chris: Refine.

We cut to a shot of a glowing sword being pulled out of a furnace. Whomever is holding it places it on an anvil. Bang! The unknown wielder strikes down a smith’s hammer on the piping hot metal. Multiple times his hammer does fall on the mutable metal.

Chris: Apply the pressure.

We see Chris running up and down a set of stairs. He is now noticeably a lot bulkier than the initial clip that we first saw. The scene transitions into a shot of Chris doing push-ups with several weights on his back. His shirt is off and veins are bulging out of his neck.

Chris: Until...

We return back to the hammer striking the metal. The glow has now faded off of the sword. Finally, the unknown wielder picks up the blade and holds it into the air. The scene blinks, and we get a shot of the White Knight’s arm raised in the same position as the blade. After several blinks, the scene fully transitions, and we see Chris’ arm raised in the air.

Chris: Gladio. (Translate: the sword)

…

The hero returns; shed of malfunctioning equipment.

We cut to a scene from Apocalypse. We see Chris hitting The Butterfly Effect on Holmes, but he only picks up the two-count.

Chris: He brings a new weapon.

We quickly cut to a shot of Chris inside of the wrestling ring. The unknown man is slowly rising to his feet. Chris is crouched in a corner, but immediately pounces out whenever the man turns towards Chris’ direction. Chris hooks back his massive right forearm and then connects with a devastating clothesline to the neck of the man. It sends him flipping and crashing onto the mat.

Chris: However, every weapon must be tested. Every hero must be tried.

We cut to a shot of Big Dave announcing the Battle Royal for the next set of shows, with the winner being inserted into the WZCW World Heavyweight Championship match at Unscripted.

Chris: So, now I find myself anew. Rebirthed into this world they call WZCW. Re-christened as a messenger, but not a savior.

An image of the White Knight helmet flashes on the screen.

Chris: The message of everything that I will never be, but always aspire for. Yet, you may ask: If pure goodness is impossible to gain, then is it even worth chasing? Answer me this: Is it not better to gain just a sliver of that purity than to never have had any of it at all?

I must press on.

A medieval-ish tune pipes up in the background.

Chris: The battle royal beckons me, and a who’s who list of superstars will greetith me in the squared arena. Peasants of Aftershock, kings of mayhem, hermits of the midcard, and wise mystics; have at thee! Whether it be friend or foe I must defeat; I am on a quest. A quest for gold I mind you. And in it, I hope to gain what any good knight might desire: honor, chivalry, and glory.

David Cougar, Drake Callahan, and Steven Holmes have all taken their seats at the banquet table, but yet one seat remains to be filled. One seat still remains vacant. This is the prize that kisses my ears. A seat at the table of men who have all proven themselves to be capable warriors of such a battle. All of them imperfect, but skilled in their own right. This is the class I most hope to find myself amongst. That is my quest!

At the second Supershow of WZCW, in Los Angeles, California, a new quest begins.

We cut to a revolving camera shot that circumferences the newly chiseled physique of WZCW’s hero.

Chris: I am returning with an added twenty pounds of armor in my hunt for gold.

We see a clip of Chris doing another devastating clothesline to the unknown man earlier.

Chris: And I am returning with a new weapon.

We see Chris’ massive muscular right arm. Suddenly, we see him pull a white arm sleeve up it. The sleeve starts at his shoulder and then cuts off at his wrist.

Chris: It is time to unsheathe The Sword.

The screen goes black.

Chris: Novum quest incipit! (Translate: A new quest begins!)

 

[Shotaro]

James Howard is standing beneath the eaves of his loft space; bare plaster board can be seen in the gaps between photographs. Lots of photographs. Photographs of Grand Mystique, Titus and El Calife Dragon along with the rest of the WZCW roster; beneath each photo a brief handwritten scrawl of notes, bulleted lists of who they’ve beaten and who has beaten them, strengths and weaknesses, allies and enemies. Several photos are missing; the men who could, nay, must have attacked Mikey Stormrage.

Howard re-attaches some of the photos to the wall, namely Constantine and Matt Tastic; given what happened to them on the night Howard has eliminated them from his investigation, the remaining five are laid out upon a flat-pack desk that had clearly been built in a rush. Scooping the photos into a folio he carries them out of the room, and ultimately out to his car as he drives away from his house, pausing briefly at the sight of his tag partners car, untouched since they left for Apocalypse over a month ago. As Howard drives out of sight the front door opens, revealing a heavily pregnant Dinah Kelly, who quickly turns; slamming the door behind her as she realises that once again, her fiancée has disappeared into the night, a scream of frustration lingering in the silent, temperate evening.

The Californian countryside whizzes by the windows of Howard’s car as he races towards the city centre, eventually stopping at a vodka bar. Howard pauses momentarily at the neon signed entrance before stepping inside.

Hammer met anvil violently in Howard’s ears as the sheer volume of the music almost burst his ear drums, knocked off balance by the abrupt change in air pressure, he staggered like a drunk toward the bar, leaning heavily upon it.

“Would you like a drink sir?” The beautiful Russian woman asked from beyond the bar, her appearance just enough above a mid-shoot porn star to allow her to avoid being arrested for prostitution. Howard leant forward and whispered in her ear and she immediately disappeared. Howard rested on a stool and span around, leaning his back against the bar and waiting for an old friend to collect him.

“Mister Howard.” A deep dark voice appeared, the voice of a man as wide as he was tall but still somehow invisible between the strobe lighting in the club itself. “It has been a long time, come, please, follow me.”

Behind the curtain the sleek modernism of the club had been abandoned for white breezeblock walls and mazes of cardboard boxes, the large man leading the way did not look down nor, it seemed, straight ahead, forever peeking around corners and checking darkened doorways like a Spetsnaz officer who was yet to break the habit.

“You do realise of course that Aleksey is not here, he is still resting.”

“I know that Sergei, but this isn’t a social visit. Is there an office around here where we can talk?”

A leather-clad door was at the end of the long, dirty corridor. Its handle glinted in the light, a faux diamond rested on the end of the pivot. The other side was like walking back in time, oak panelled walls and an expensive walnut desk, sat directly in front of a large admiral’s chair and some artificially lit venetian blinds.

“Please, Mr Howard, take a seat.”

Howard duly perched on the smaller leather seats with thin, stubby legs. Sergei was already taller, when both men had taken their seats Howard could barely resist the urge to look around for his mother and plead his case.

“Now, why have you come to see me?”

Howard lurched forward from the child-sized chair, dropping the folio onto the desk.

“You owe me a favour or two. I’m cashing them in.”

Sergei leant towards the folio and laid out its contents.

“That is not how business is done, not profitable business at least.”

“Don’t mess me about Sergei, you know you owe me.” The meeting has barely begun but the exasperation in Howard’s voice was evident. “I need you to follow these men.”

“Follow?” Sergei laughed, “that is not so bad for business. Who are these men anyway?”

“Enemies, I wish I could call them rivals but one of these guys made it personal. I guess you know I’ve gotten into wrestling.”

“I had heard, I recognise the black one and the one with the mask. They seem like men who go too far.” Sergei pointed at the photos as he crudely described the headshots.

“Saxton and Saboteur, they’re the tag champs. They’re also the prime suspects but I highly doubt they’d do something like this without prompting. Idiots but they’re not that stupid.”

“An Alien?”

“Krypto; he needs to be locked up, homeless guy who has gotten it into his head that he’s an alien. I fought him the other week. He wouldn’t be on the list but he’s been paired up with the Looney Tunes and could’ve done their dirty work.”

“And the crew cut man and a priest? What exactly have you been doing with your wrestling to make enemies out of a priest?”

“The priest is Mason Westhoff; he’s not a man of actual god, you know, man in the sky god. He’s all hell fire and vengeance, the crew cut guy is his lackie, Derek Jacobs.” Howard paused, clearing his throat before standing “I trust I can leave this in your capable hands.”

“Of course friend. When we find anything I will let you know. I assume you want revenge, all you have to do is give me the word.”

Howard waved his hand “not necessary, I’ll take care of that.” With that Howard walked out of the room and back through the maze of corridors before returning to the vacant stool at the bar.

Two days later Howard returned home, he had walked or caught a bus for the majority of his journey. His car keys were now in the possession of a pseudo-porn star barmaid after he threw his them into the air and crashed through a glass table trying to catch them.

“Where in the blue hell have you been?” A scream came from upstairs as the door slammed behind him. “I’ve been worried sick”

“Phone went dead by the first morning.” Howard walked up the stairs, passing his heavily pregnant fiancée. “I had to ask a favour from an old friend”

“Russians?” Dinah said, almost whispering.

“Yes, Russians” Howard sneered in response “Between Rose leaving him and the attack Mikey’s broken and I don’t think I can fix him. Meanwhile you’ve turned into a hormonal harpy and then the Russians, the goddamn Russians. I cashed in a huge favour just so I can find the guys the put him in the hospital.”

“It’s not his body that’s the problem and you know it.”

Howard staggered back down the stairs, stumbling on the bottom step but staying upright. He marched through the living room and kitchen and down towards the basement. Over the next few days he only returned to the house to eat.

The argument when he decided to return to the real world was long and loud. Mikey appeared for the first time since Apocalypse to throw a bottle down the stairs and tell them to shut up. The argument eventually soften to a conversation; the conversation turned, inevitably, to WZCW and the battle royal.

“The thing is Dinah, the only way I can know for sure I’ve got the right guy is to get to the top of the mountain. This chance at a world title shot isn’t about gold or glory, it’s about helping him. I need to talk to him.”

Howard marched up the stairs, closely followed by Dinah. He slammed his fists onto the door, knocking as loudly as he could.

“I’m going in there”

 

[Steamboat Ricky]

*Steamboat Ricky stands in his locker room after his tag team match on Meltdown, guzzling a bottle of water. Johnny Klamor, pouring himself a glass of champagne, stands with the former champ.*

Once again...once again...no one respects me. I show up to Meltdown...a show that is beneath my quality, as an act of charity to Glow in the Dark Pajama Bottoms, and what does he do? He leaves me high and dry, taking a loss that should have been his. Don't these people realize what I've done for this company. The sacrifices I've made along the way...simply so they could have jobs? I mean...who's done more for this company than I have?

Surely, no one, sir. I know you are feeling as though justice was not served tonight, but you will have a chance to redeem yourself.

Why should I have to redeem myself?? I don't need to prove ANYTHING to ANYONE. I was running the show around here when most of the roster was in books. And still, I get nothing close to what I deserve. I'm sick of it, Johnny...I'm sick of it.

Just...just hear me out. You've wanted a shot at the WZCW World Heavyweight Championship since you've returned, yes?

A shot at it? It should be given to me. Who has been a better WZCW Champ than me? Who is more deserving than ME??

*Klamor looks down, hiding his rolling eyes*

Surely, no one, sir. But you know that no one in upper management has the mind to put the belt on you...the fed's most marketable and accomplished star. So, you might have to take it yourself...and here's your chance. At the Supershow next week...I hear that there's going to be a Battle Royal for the 4th spot in the WZCW Championship Fatal Four Way match. Best of all? You're eligible to enter. What a better way for you to reclaim your throne than to show up the roster on a night where everyone will be watching?

*Ricky scratches his beard*

Not a bad idea, Klamor...not a bad idea. Finally, the biggest and brightest star that WZCW has ever known will reclaim his spot atop WZCW. I'll make them wish they would have given me my belt back sooner. Ha.

Mmmmmm...that's the hunger I want. That's the hunger I NEED! That's the kind of champion that I agreed to manage.


Johnny, here's to redemption...

*Ricky taps his bottle of water against Klamor's glass of champagne as the scene fades out.*