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Post by supinesnake on May 28, 2024 21:01:49 GMT
Originally posted by SupineSnake. The following footage was released on ANZU.com last night at 11:58PM Pacific, with an edit made at 00:11AM.
RANDOM DISCLAIMER: I may have mostly just re-dubbed footage from an episode of Blue Planet II I watched the other day for this. I hope David Attenbrough doesn’t mind.
We open up on a shot of a seemingly endless sea, only broken up in the distance by a smattering of broken pieces of ice. A female narrator speaks in a familiar voice, in English but with a suggestion of a Japanese accent.
Narrator: "The Arctic Ocean. Nowhere on our Earth is the sea less accommodating, more foreboding, and less hospitable than around our poles. The seawater here is constantly around -1.8°C, hovering at its freezing point, so cold that you would enter hypothermia in a matter of minutes."
Past the camera swim two figures: a pair of walruses. One is a lot bigger than the other and protective of the smaller one, suggesting a maternal relationship between the pair. The younger of the two seems to be struggling to keep its head over the water as they paddle onwards towards frozen land.
Narrator: "Exhausted after a long hunt for food, this mother and its calf struggle to find a place to rest. Eventually, they stumble onto land, finding things a little overcrowded…"
The mother is first to push her body onto the snow, where around fifty other walruses are currently lounging. She uses her huge tusks and powerful torso to force a little bit of space amongst the heaving mass of bodies. Then, when she rests, her calf takes the opportunity to snuggle in next to her.
Narrator: "Although it's not just old family friends that have taken an interest in this exclusive, winter spot…"
In the background of the shot, we see a large polar bear padding through the snow. A silent killer. The bear keeps a close eye on the vast number of walruses relaxing in the sun in an attempt to rest up after a hunt of their own.
Narrator: "An adult walrus is far too large, heavy, and strong for a polar bear, but a walrus calf? Just right."
One of the walruses sees the lurking bear and sparks a slow-paced panic. One by one, only moments after our mother and calf appeared in this sanctuary for their much-needed rest, the walruses push themselves off the ice and into the sea. Our own walrus is the very last to abandon the outpost, along with her calf. She gives the bear one last lingering glance, full of bitterness and disdain, before shuffling herself and her young back into the ocean.
Narrator: "The hunt goes on. For both the bear, who needed this meal to survive, and the walrus, who still requires a place for her calf to rest."
Our mother-calf pairing is on the move again, paddling through the open water, the youngster's head barely able to remain above the freezing surface. The pup's pained yelps are louder, more frequent, and more frantic than they were at the start of the footage. There is a sense of urgency about the mother as she leads her young onwards towards a small, floating block of ice in the middle of the open sea. We see an aerial shot of the pair approaching the block, which already houses roughly a dozen of her kind who have all had exactly the same idea.
Narrator: "Floating blocks of ice like this one provide all the right ingredients for a walrus's recuperation, with the added bonus of being too far out to sea for a polar bear to strike. This one, though, has already attracted the attention of a few like-minded individuals."
The walrus mother swims around the circumference of the block in an attempt to find an opening. The pained and fearful groans of the youngster continue as the mother struggles to see a gap for them to fill. Becoming more panicked and more agitated by its offspring’s cries, the walrus begins to force its way into the pack.
Narrator: "But times are desperate. The mother has no choice but to try and gain entry onto the block."
There is, of course, resistance from the other walruses. As the mother attempts to bash and ram a path onto the ice for her and her young, the others are stirred from lethargy to defend their patch. They are not particularly territorial, but they are smart enough to know the perils of overcrowding. They understand what will happen if too many massive walruses climb onto the same small patch of ice.
A struggle ensues. Tusks clash and heads ram. Before long, the group of walruses on the ice begins to shift around, as some try to join the defense and others attempt to flee. The integrity of the block is soon compromised. It breaks apart, and then again, and then again, until it has disintegrated into nothing.
Narrator: "Now, nobody gets what they want."
One more cut, again to the open water, as the walrus and her young swim across it once again. The calf's fearful yelps can still be heard, but they are less frequent and less frantic now. Perhaps a certain fate has been accepted, or maybe the fatigue is now simply too strong. A gap begins to form between the mother and its calf, the younger walrus falling behind. This distance between them grows as the mother fights on to find sanctuary whilst the calf is too exhausted to continue.
Eventually, after realising that her young has drifted behind, the mother turns back. She prods at her calf's head with her own.
Narrator: "The mother knows that if they don't go on now, it will mean the end for her calf."
They swim ever onwards and, eventually, another floating block appears in the distance. This one is larger than the other, and as yet - perhaps by some miracle, or a mirage in this aquatic desert - remains unoccupied. The struggle is real for the youngster, but the mother forces her onwards, until finally they arrive at this sanctuary.
The mother is able to climb up onto the ice with ease, but for the calf the task is more arduous. The youngster is too tired to heave her already-heavy body up onto the block. Eventually, the mother has to climb back into the ocean to help with the lift.
Narrator: "The mother knows that even this hard-won and precarious safety is temporary. Soon, they will need to go on. The ice will melt, and other predators will begin to stir.”
With mother and daughter now both upon the ice block, they sprawl out lethargically. It doesn't take long for the calf to fall asleep. The mother strokes her head with a delicate flipper, the pair huddling for warmth on their floating island.
The next moment, a sudden eruption of activity drowns the scene in noise. From eight disparate positions around the ice block's circumference, tiger-striped tentacles are thrust from the surface, groping around the block like vile tendrils.
The tiger-squid's head appears in the water as the walruses groan and grunt and yelp helplessly and momentarily, the grasping, groping tentacles closing around them and dragging the whole block of ice down into the deep.
As the shadow of the leviathan gradually disappears, a thick, teal ink clouds the freezing water. |
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Post by supinesnake on May 28, 2024 21:02:55 GMT
Originally posted by Prod. Mike Parr in:
Legacy
{"Earlier today..."} {"Earlier today..."} {"Earlier today..."} O'Hare International Arrivals Child: “Can I get a picture please sir?"Whilst it was only a short haul flight, The Prodigy and fan appreciation aren’t always necessarily in sync, particularly when it pertains to any of the following; photographs, feigning enthusiasm, and….photographs all over again. Some people with a time machine and the opportunity to do anything they want could do amazing things…Mike would be more than content with travelling back in time and point blank preventing the invention of the photograph. Nevertheless, this child who must not be older than 10, is staring up expectantly at the grimacing Mike Parr. Mike: “We better make it fast in case any of your other favorites come off of the plane soon after me.”Mike knew there was zero other wrestlers on the plane, but the diversion tactic and the hope of what magical possibilities the unknown could offer often serves as a sufficient distraction and allows Mike a quick escape from situations he despises. Mike poses for the photo, before the child with their new found sense of urgency, motions for his mother to follow. The child looks up an exclaims to her, “I can’t believe we got the North American Championship guy.”That sentence stops Mike in his tracks, as the kid and his mother disappear through the seas of humanity in arrivals. Remarkable to stop Mike in this situation, risking another public encounter is certainly not one of his ideal Sunday excursions. There is a bit of numbness and a dull ringing in Mike’s head, as he balances trying to process how the child described him while also trying to suppress the urge to launch his phone into the Chicago River. To some he was the kind man who offered a smile as you shuffled past him down the street en route to another busy day in your life, as he navigated his way to the bar to enjoy a tipple that he claimed to be strictly for medicinal purposes. The latter part of the statement is questionable. To others, he was the dictatorial relic that never really got with the times, instead the times caught up with him and forced him into his quiet life. If you go into the center of town and conduct a vox pop on the public opinion on him, the variety of answer and popular opinion is going to be, to put it politely, varied. It's a shame really, or so Mike thought, as his own personal lived experience with the individual was an overwhelming positive one. Saying that, admittedly, he appreciated the hard line that he took when he needed to, he appreciated the strict boundaries that were put in place as it clearly defined lines that should not be crossed. Others, particular in 2023, don’t really like being forced to operate within very set parameters. They like the freedom to be able to say what they want, do what the like, and operate in the wider community without any real consequence as long as they are so speak some nonsense like it being ‘their truth’, or some other non-descript phrase that means nothing. The uniquely identifiable sound of FaceTime calling permeates the room, as Mike places his tumbler glass of water on the table in front of his tablet. It rings…and rings…and rings. Mike sweeps his hair to the left hand side of his face, and shakes his head in a manner that is somewhere between irritably and knowingly. The intended recipient of the call is a prime example of someone who whilst modern technology didn’t totally forget, it may have omitted some key details as it relates to the journey. Mike, full of empathy, particularly given that he is attempting to initiate the conversation, reacts accordingly. “Swipe up to answer you moronic old shit”Alright, maybe not quite as empathetic although the sentence was uttered very much with the understanding that the walls were not about to get offended, and aside from those, nobody else was really going to be in a position to hear him or get offended by anything that he says until the other end of the phone call is picked up. However, that moment, with the call being picked up, is not now unfortunately. Mike regretfully swipes up to cancel the attempted interaction, and subconsciously shakes his head left and right in the negative. Mike slams the tablet on the table, and pushes himself up to a standing position. There was so much that he wanted to run through, questions that became relevant post-Fallout this past week. Mike turned up there with no motivation, other than to openly mess with the FWA management who think that its somehow OK to undervalue an asset that they have at their disposal and think that he is just going to fall in line. Sure, if something interesting came out of the woodwork, then it’s a net win for everyone. Mike would have someone to keep him entertained as he tries to prove to everyone that he is not a spent force within the company. If nothing came up following his declaration, then it just serves to reaffirm his decision to come back as the correct one – as a locker room full of men lacking the fortitude to step up and answer an open challenge very plainly laid out to them all, is a locker room that Mike Parr would fancy himself to navigate his way to the head. As it so happened, neither of those outcomes were precisely how things shaped out in the end. Whilst nobody stepped up, he was offered an opportunity in response to his challenge, and an opportunity that frankly brings a lot of self-reflection that he was not expecting into the equation. Mike was offered the chance to compete and put himself one match away from the North American Championship, a belt that is very near and dear to his if not black then dark blue heart. The opponent? Jackson Fenix, which on its own is not something that he was going to spend a lot of time being concerned about. The last time prior to this proposal that he watched Jackson or his equally inept partner Nate compete was when Sean and Damian were handing them their asses to them at their own leisure. Usually this is the point where Mike would say that he is sure that Jackson had earned this spot and this respect, but what Fenix has or has not achieved has not even broached his radar. It’s not even been flagged on a shortlist of potential threats, and yet, here we are. What is causing Mike to think is what facing Jackson Fenix represents, namely the opportunity to compete again for the North American Championship but specifically what being able to compete for and win that championship entails. And that thought process is exactly why he is sat here, when the weather outside is above freezing for the first time it what feels like months, trying to FaceTime someone that he called an ‘old shit.’ This is about legacy, and not just the pie in the sky legacy that everyone kind of takes a longshot at. This is about legacy that is reachable. Mike already has the most reigns, and the longest individual reign in the history of that championship. He is about a calendar month away from having accumulated the most days as champion in the history of the belt. That can start in two wins, with the first being Jackson Fenix at The Grand March. It’s so achievable its almost tangible. It’s not the World Championship, the holy grail that Mike has had a few opportunities to grasp and not taken. Where some of his most famous rivals, Michelle and Krash to name a few, have progressed to and achieved. It’s not that opportunity but the question that is playing on Mike’s mind, bouncing around inside his head to the point of migraine, is whether that’s enough for him. When Russnow offered him the match, he followed his gut instinct and he said ‘yes’ almost immediately, a rare moment of impulse from The Prodigy truth be told. With the benefit of time to reflect, he now is weighing up the pros of cementing an indisputable legacy that will stand the test of time with one championship versus the con of cementing an indisputable legacy that will stand the test of time with THAT one championship. Mike is fully accepting now, moreso than at any other point in his career, that his biggest dream of winning that World Championship may be beyond him. Is he going to go out there and say it to an arena full of people? No. Is he going to even truly admit it to himself? Definitely not. But this fork in the road that he has reached has most certainly brought those questions to the forefront of his mind. If he goes out there and beats Jackson and the North American Champion, he will forever become attached to that belt. His legacy will be intertwined with that belt. Is that Mike’s end goal in this company? He’s been pretty clear since day one that his target is the biggest prize that the FWA has to offer. The quandary specifically here is that even if Mike progresses and manages to capture the World Championship further down the line, he cannot escape the feeling that when the historians delve deep into the FWA archives in 50 years that his achievements will start and finish with the North American Championship. It's very much a first world wrestler problem to have, but the trivial nature of the issue in the wider scheme of happenings on the planet don’t necessarily invalidate the wider concern. This call, however, isn’t going to help him answer any of these questions and part of the tragedy of the entire situation is that Mike already knows that – he just needs to know it. Mike picks up the tablet from the table and tries one more time, more out of hope than any form of real expectation. It’s not a relatable line of business, but it’s certainly a relatable viewpoint. Would he rather be remembered as the authoritarian through everything he achieved professionally or as the kind old man that has opened up to the same people personally following his retirement? He paces back and forth while FaceTime bleeps to no avail once more. Placing the tablet back on the table, he stares across the room at his framed replica championship belt hanging on the wall, the FWA North American Championship one of the centerpieces as you would expect. Mike has never had a loser’s mentality, although inwardly there are also more doubts that those displayed outwardly. As he stares at the North American Championship, and reflects upon his decision to accept the confrontation with Fenix at The Grand March, his mind begins to wander. Does he want his legacy to be the greatest North American Champion of all time? No. Hell no. Although...... judging by how suddenly deathly still Mike just got, something may have finally resonated. He isn’t waiting on a FaceTime to be asked about his career that he has left behind, he’s in the middle of it. He walked to the ring last week and told everyone that he was open for a fight. Sometimes, this business can make your mind your own worst enemy. When you’ve had the setbacks and the disappointments that Mike Parr has had, you naturally start to think about things that in the grand scheme of things don’t matter. Is there a burning desire for Mike Parr to cement his legacy as the North American Championship’s greatest champion? No. If Mike were to achieve that, is there a danger that it becomes his legacy? Yes. Is it too late for Mike to change that narrative? He has all the time in the world. He isn’t retired, he isn’t looking back. Hell, he isn’t even that old in the grand scheme of things. Mike is proud of the North American Championship but he just doesn’t want to see it as his end game, and he has finally just realized that he has control over making sure that isn’t the case. Beat Fenix at The Grand March, beat the champ and then work on getting your hands on the prize that has eluded you for so long. And when you do that, when – not if, you aren’t going to be remember as the greatest North American or a brief World….you are going to be remembered as a champion. Your legacy will be a champion. The details…the fine print, as it pertains to that champion legacy, continues with the deposing of Jackson Fenix in Chicago. Starts in Chicago and runs all the way though the Carnal Contendership. The narrative isn’t going to be written for Mike Parr, the self-prescribed eulogy for his career was premature. He’s in control of his own narrative, his own destiny, and the next time someone asks he’s going to be more than the North American Champion guy. He’s going to be the champion guy. |
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Post by supinesnake on May 28, 2024 21:03:09 GMT
Originally posted by Death Walker. The Definition Of…
???: “...Did you… Did you hear? The Death Walker came in and slaughtered about 100 muthafuckas in 10 seconds and then he used the bodies as a mattress.”
???: “Well I heard he’s a cannibal and all he ever eats is human flesh covered in blood. My cousin told me that dude even blows smoke from his nostrils… like a fire breathing dragon or somethin’.”
???: “Nah, nah, nah, nah, nah… you both are wrong! I heard that he creeps in the shadows of people’s rooms where they sleep. And then he skulks around them in the darkness, just thinking of ways to torture and harm them. Almost like some type of boogeyman or somethin’.”
The 3 young voices appear to be looking at the same exact view… which at this particular moment happens to be a pale blue sky smeared with a few of the dirtiest looking clouds floating by. There's two little boys and a girl laying on the top of a duplex as they share rumors of Death Walker. But then without haste, one of the boys hops up to his feet and brings a pair of binoculars up to his eyes. He observes a few suspicious vehicles driving in their vicinity.
Boy #1: “...either way, I think things are just going to continue to get more interesting around here. That's for sure.”
Cutting over to a large corrugated iron garage, two familiar faces- well… familiar figures stand inside it, side by side with a construction crew diligently at work.
???: “I see these modifications are coming in very handy, My Lord. Should we talk about the upcoming tournament now?”
And for a second, the spiky faced menace wonders but promptly decides to shake its head. Then it looks at the ground before its feet and gives a deep exhale. Getting a closer and better look at the dark duo, it turns out to be Death Walker and The Dark Guardian.
TDG: “Is something bothering you… My Lord?”
In a black oversized cloak that hides everything besides his hands and the bottom half of his face, The Dark Guardian becomes curious about his dark prodigy. But this isn't for long as Death Walker responds with his hauntingly, disturbing chuckle before lifting his head up.
TDG: “Good, good. Because I’m sure that you’re aware of us being far from taking over LA. And I know that you understand what I mean, My Lord. We’ve made the bare minimal impact to any of the adjoining counties and districts in Southern California. We should look forward to receiving message from one of the other big bosses.”
Death walks away and approaches a small group of workers and uses his hands to communicate with them. He appears to be focused on all the details of his new infrastructure that's being built. The Dark Guardian comes right over and assists by giving the commands verbally.
TDG: “Yeah, yeah. He wants those chains attached from the ceiling within the next hour, thank you. Oh and if you would be so kind as to leave a couple of those…”
The Dark Guardian points out where to leave the objects right before cutting back to the kids of the duplex roof…
Boy #1: “... All I know is if The Death Walker comes for me while I'm sleeping… I got a Glock 17 with his name on it.”
Girl: “A glock?! Boy, you ain't got no damn glock or handgun! Quit lying!”
The other boy bursts in laughter as his friend gets clowned and called out…
Boy #2: “Woooooooooowwwww, she smelled your bullshit coming a mile away! You're gonna have to lie a lot better than that. And by the way… what's with this ‘The Death Walker’ mess instead of calling him Death Walker?”
Boy #1: “Cuz bro, he's like… the only one of his kind. So it makes him different from the rest. And so, um whether we refer to him as Death Walker like a name or THE Death Walker like it's a brand name or noun, he's a big deal around here… around California… maybe to the whole damn world too.”
Girl: “Ok but that still doesn't explain why you’re lying about having a gun with your scrawny ass!”
Boy #1: “I DO GOT A… got a… Ok, I got a BB gun though. So just… just leave me the hell alone.”
Boy #2: “Aaaaaawww him feelings are hurt. Don't start crying like a little baby. Poor lil’- wait. Wait, who is that speeding this way?”
The boy with the binoculars takes a good look through them as the others use their eyes. Looking over the neighborhood, the kids start to make out a motorbike getting closer and closer.
Girl: “It looks like he's coming right at us… with a satchel and everything.”
Boy #1: “I mean this does look serious… should we let the big guy know?”
Boy #2: “I don't think that we have a choice.”
So the kids find their way down off the roof and hurry to get ahold of Death Walker. And overseeing the construction work from the middle of the garage, The Dark Traveler stands with his arms folded when the 3 kids from the roof stumble in.
Boy #2: “Hey uh, The Death Walker… I mean Death Walker, sir. We spotted some odd looking asshole on a dirt bike heading this way.”
TDG: “How soon?”
Boy #1: “Within the next 5 to 10 minutes.”
TDG: “This might be exactly what I was talking about. We will welcome this motorist upon their arrival and find out what brings them here. And if they're lucky, they might leave with their health intact. Thanks, kids. Run along for now.”
The Dark Guardian dismisses the kids as he awaits the unexpected guest. Cutting back to outside, the biker parks their dirt bike right beside a parked vehicle then goes on the search for someone. The unknown biker heads into the bushy field behind the houses and identifies an enormous structure. But before they can make the small journey towards it, the person is stopped by a discreet ambush. A group of gang members with guns drawn surrounds the biker and leads them to the garage where the leader is. Pushing the stranger who wears a black and white motorcycle riding suit with the matching helmet, the gang shoves their mystery guest through the side entrance of this modified garage.
Gang member #1: “Look what we brought you, Mr. Walker. It's the ugliest fuckin’ zebra I've ever seen!”
The gang laughs as Death Walker hasn't even moved a muscle or turned around. However, another gang member interjects with his own snarky remark.
Gang member #2: “Nah homie, it looks more like a malnourished panda bear but actually cuter!”
As the small group shares more laughs while keeping their guns on the biker, their leader now unfolds his arms and the advisor turns around to set eyes on who’s here. This quickly diminishes the laughter and Death makes his slow turn around. 6 foot 2, demon masked, shirtless, body glistening like shiny gold on this sunny California day and of course the usual fight attire (black taped hands, black jeans ripped at the knees below and his leather boots).
TDG: “So who do we have here? An… intruder?! An unlucky rival?!”
[random biker???]: “Try messenger, you goof.”
Walker just stares a hole into the stranger while the advisor carries on as the mouthpiece.
TDG: “Oh boy, check out the gumption on this one, My Lord. Maybe you can help re-evaluate his decision to speak to us so candidly.”
Messenger: “Wait what?!? WAIT! WAIT! WAIT! HOLD UP-”
The messenger attempts to back up but the gang members block his escape and the demonic creature steps up. Before anything else can be explained or told, Death Walker strikes with a gut punch followed up by a knockout right hook to the head. The messenger collapses onto the dirt and the vision blinks right into darkness.
*****************************************************
A boy pops up in this all black space with no walls or ceiling… he has a white t-shirt with one of his favorite cartoon characters, green shorts and some green sneakers. To be honest, the boy resembles the messenger which now makes a tiny bit of sense.
Young Messenger: “Where am I and how did I get here?”
He looks around as numerous random noises rattle off one after another, from monsters to vicious animals to screams. The young boy panics and goes to scream for help yet there’s no sound, no voice except for…
TDG: “In darkness, we are shown the frightening truth… and that truth is that nothing can save you from your nightmares. They must either let them run their course or you have to face them head on head but even then… when you wake back up to reality… those nightmares find ways to continue to haunt you for the rest of your life… just like a… Dark Cloud over your head. So it is with no deep regrets at all, that we continue to terrorize the minds of all who oppose… His Majesty, our very own… DEATH WALKER!”
There are some seconds of silence and darkness then the picture snaps in with a gasp for air. Looking around, it appears to be night time and the glow from red fluorescent lights as well as flames within steel barrels positioned around the entire iron structure. However we find the view of things… upside down as the messenger begins to get his bearings.
Messenger: “OH GOD NO! LET… LET ME DOWN!!!! I PROMISE TO NEVER INSULT YOUR BOSS AGAIN! I- I- I feel… a bit… fa…”
While the messenger was swinging around and struggling to remove the chains from his ankles, he merely faints abruptly. Not yet noticing that he's not the only one hanging upside down from chains. As the messenger wakes up again, The Dark Guardian addresses those in attendance.
TDG: “We will now start the festivities dished out by yours truly, one of HELL’s dark princes and the next king of Los Angeles, Death Walker. My Lord, would you like to prepare your slaughter?”
The Dark Traveler gently shakes his demon skull as he stands up from his towering throne made of bones. He proceeds to take his time stepping down the 30 or more steps. Reaching the dirt covered ground below, Death removes his demon mask and hands it over to The Dark Guardian.
Messenger: “AY ALRIGHT MAN, PLEASE DON’T HURT ME!! I just came to bring you a message, that's all. If you just let me go, I'll give the message and be on my way. I can even deliver any of you guys messages to whoever you choose. Just please let me down.”
The Dark Guardian pats Death Walker on his shoulder to halt the monster.
TDG: “There, there, My Lord. Let's hear this most important message. Well… what is it?! Speak it the fuck out, kid.”
Getting impatient at the delay, Walker repeatedly punches his left palm with his right fist then switches to punching the right palm using his left fist.
Messenger: “Can you unchain me first?”
TDG: “No. We want the message. Now.”
Messenger: “OK OK LOOK… the message was… er um… the massage was… OH! ‘To the one responsible… for Freak Show no longer running the western chapter of Los Angeles county… AND sent him as well as other attackers on a bedrest vacation for the next several months, I say to you…’ Um shit, what was it dude said? Uhh… oh, right! ‘... then I say to you that you have just trifled in business that doesn't not concern you. Due to this infraction, we expect to be compensated in full via an in-person sentencing hearing at a future date and undisclosed location. Respectfully yours. ~California’s Criminal Council~’. That's all I was told, THAT’S ALL I WAS FUCKING TOLD! I PROMISE, JUST LET ME GO! Just let me go…”
The Dark Guardian releases a sigh before speaking again…
TDG: “So that's it huh?”
Messenger: “That's all. Please let me down, I just want to leave.”
TDG: “Oh we're going yo let you go but not until… we leave you with a message of our own.”
Messenger: “Ok, what's the message? What do you want to tell them?”
TDG: “Well this message is more like one to be shown.”
A couple of the gang members gather around the messenger, tapes and tape his mouth shut.
TDG: “Now with no further interruptions… let’s get you prepared for a tournament, My Lord.”
Slightly spinning the messenger to show him that there are 7 other victims about to join his fate. The gang turns him back towards the monster that is, Death Walker as he pours a container of blood over the top of his head. The blood running over his entire body as he looks like a new version of Carrie or that one DMX album cover. It's not verified whether this is human blood, animal blood or corn syrup but The Dark Traveler is rubbing it all over like lotion.
TDG: “My Lord, your next objective is to fight hard as hell in a series of hazardous matches. Destruction on a plate with mayhem and carnage as the sides. All to become a champion and crowned King of The Deathmatch. A crown and title belt to solidify one's legacy, what an opportunity to be a part of. Here are your next targets… a few of them you may already know whether recently or from… the past.”
The advisor hands over a file with lots of photos to Death Walker. He opens the manila file folder and browses through them. Strolling in front the chosen victims barely moving but murmuring. Snap!... goes the staple gun as he attaches all the copies of the 11 revealed opponents in the deathmatch tournament onto his helpless casualties. As they all try their strongest to holler out in pain but the tape over their mouths restrains any loud noises. Each of the 8 sacrifices are covered from forehead to feet in pictures. Death drags a duffle bag of tools to the 8 dangling offenders. He pulls out a few things such as a crowbar, glass shards, some razor wire, a blowtorch and a foldable shovel. Walker goes into a trance, staring at the ground as if it had a window to HELL. He wraps razor wire around both of his taped fists as The Dark Guardian volunteers additional information from a document.
TDG: “There's 11 opponents listed with 8 ‘surprises’ to be revealed later within the tournament. I'm sure you notice the usual names… the champ Alyster Black, Jason Randall, XYZ, Sawyer Xavier… weaselperson? wea- yep it says weaselperson… Trixie Bordeaux, Madison Gray, Logan Darwin, Anzu Kurasawa, Kleio De Santos and… Reagan Cole.”
As The Dark Guardian was reading off the names, The Dark Traveler was executing some heavy punches with his sharp razor fists. Adding cut after cut over the wiggling bodies while his boxing skills give a flurry of painful strikes. More muffled screams are used upon the suffering and misery.
TDG: “You know I could spout a bunch of key information regarding each of these 11 and what to expect from the other unknown 8… but the truth about this tournament is that it holds too many possible results. So the way I see it, our best chance is to bring everything we got. We’ve been waiting for fights like this where anything can happen. But one thing has to become true and that's you becoming a champion again. Sure they still doubt your power but they cannot refute your victories, your successful results. So we head into the King of Deathmatch, knowing that it's your time to share your pain amongst our peers.”
Death picks up some things off the ground… two lead pipes and he uses them if he possesses 8 types of gongs. He begins to drum on the cut up bodies and they turn weak from struggling in agony. Walker’s advisor watches in amazement as his dark monster is at peace, making wonderful art and music through the pain of others.
TDG: “ You know watching what you are doing here, give me a new moniker for you…”
“The Soul Collector.” |
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Post by supinesnake on May 28, 2024 21:03:24 GMT
Originally posted by Sully. The Witch Trials
[ATTACH type="full" width="454px" alt="1680496389718.png"]47146[/ATTACH] Part I: The Prolgue
Kleio sat in the back of the 2023 Buick rental car that her and The Coven picked. She questioned to herself whether or not it was a good idea to travel cross country with Blair and Celestia, instead of just taking a plane. Although, things hadn't been too bad between the three of them. Blair and Celestia weren't arguing nearly as much, and they have been following Kleio's lead without question ever since she laid down the law a month or so ago. The tag team win with Trixie affirmed that Kleio was back as a competitor, and this tournament was only going to solidify that fact.
The fact of the matter was Kleio has been in the FWA now for two and a half years, and she has still not won an FWA title. A large part of that is her own undoing. Her mental health took it's tool in the back end of 2021, and then in 2022 she battled with her concussion issues.
Yet for the first time since, Ground Zero perhaps, Kleio De Santos felt like she was back on top of her game. Not only that, but she had Blair and Celestia firmly behind her. She was starting to get lost in her own thoughts before Blair broke the silence.
Blair Ravenwood: You know, it's nice that Alyster Black broke the record before the Deatchmatch.
It was definitely an elephant in the room. The X Championship record. When things were envisioned, the death match was supposed to take place before the record date, but Alyster Black had already broken the record a couple weeks ago.
Kleio De Santos: You're right. I was...conflicted about beating him for the title before it happened. I wanted Sully to lose that record.
Celestia Ravenwood: But...so did Sully. He was rooting for Alyster. In fact, he's still rooting for Alyster.
Kleio De Santos: Can we not talk about Sully? He is gone. He's retired...this is about me.
Blair Ravenwood: No, Kleio...this isn't about you. This is about the X Championship. And the fact of the matter is, even with that record broken, Sully is a big part of the X Championship's history. If you're going to become the next X Champion...you're going to have to know that.
Kleio De Santos: If I had it my way, I would have Sully erased from the X Championship history books.
Blair Ravenwood: You can...by beating ALL of his records. Alyster Black isn't good enough to beat those other two records. Even with Sully rooting for him.
Kleio De Santos: Stop saying Sully is rooting for him. Sully doesn't root for anyone but himself...but you're right. Alyster isn't good enough to do it. He's an old man underneath that mask, and he's going to be extra distracted with The Buddy System going after him. He's not making it out of this tournament. He did what he wanted to do...his marathon was to make it to the longest reign record. He did that, and now he's gassed and out of breath. I'll be shocked if he walks out of King of the Deathmatch with the title still around his waist. Even if it's not me who takes it off of him...
Blair Ravenwood: But you, Kleio, are the only one who has the ability to break all THREE of those records. And truly erase Sully from history.
Suddenly, the trio pass a sign that gives them all a cold feeling inside.
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Part II: The Truck Stop
Kleio scoffed at it. Salem?
Why were they even here?
Suddenly, Blair pulled the car over and into a rest stop. The rest stop itself was creepier than the town of Salem even, as it looked like the location of several truck stop kidnappings and murders.
Kleio De Santos: Why are we stopping here?
Blair Ravenwood: I...I think we need to take a moment of silence. A lot has happened here, and...well, it's a good time to reflect on everything. In fact, Kleio...I wanted to present you with something...
And with that, Blair pulled out a small vial from her coat pocket. She twilled it in her fingers before handing it to Kleio. Kleio took it, and looked at the mysterious pink liquid inside. She swished it around, before sitting it back in the center dash of the car.
Kleio De Santos: You want me to drink one of your potions? I know what your potions do, Blair. I literally was apart of what we just did to Trixie.
Blair Ravenwood: And you're right, Kleio...but...that was just yours. Blair and Celestia have one too...the same potion.
Celestia Ravenwood: It's true Kleio. I actually brewed this potion up this time. It's safe...I just think...it'll be good for all of us. It's sort of like..a cleansing.
Kleio trusted Celestia significantly more than she did Blair. If Blair was giving her a potion, there was a chance that there was some evil intent behind it. But Celestia? Celestia wouldn't have any such intent.
Kleio De Santos: So I take this, and I'm...cleansed?
Celestia Ravenwood: Absolutely. Your mind will be clear, your stress will be gone. It's like getting a massage, having an orgasm, and taking a huge dookie all at once. You will feel so much better, and going into this brutal death match...you're going to need to go in with a clean slate. No more stress about Sully, no more stress about Alyster. Toxin free...
Kleio hesitated, but then... reluctantly agreed.
The trio got out of the car and headed over to a nearby picnic table with their three bottles. They sat down, as Celestia began to explain the rules for her potion.
Celestia Ravenwood: Now listen, both of you, when you take this...you're going to feel light headed. It's important though that you stay calm. The effects of this potion are not going to last long...an hour or two at most. But you have to remember not to move too far. We stay here, at this truck stop. Do you understand?
Both Blair and Kleio nodded yes.
Celestia Ravenwood: Good. And most importantly, your cellphones. Keep them on you, keep them turned on, and make sure your location is on at all times. Just in case things get crazy, and we stray far from each other, in an emergency we'll be able to find each other with the track my cell phone app. Ok?
That's it. Are we ready?
Kleio De Santos: Ready.
Blair Ravenwood: I was born ready.
Celestia Ravenwood: Alright then. Drink up.
And with that, all three girls chugged their little vials filled with pink mysterious liquid at the same time as the sun began setting behind them.
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Part III: The Trip
ᗩᑎᗪ ᗯITᕼ TᕼᗩT, ᒍᑌᔕT ᗩᔕ ᑕEᒪEᔕTIᗩ ᗯᗩᖇᑎEᗪ, TᕼE ᗯOᖇᒪᗪ ᗷEGᗩᑎ ᔕᑭIᑎᑎIᑎG ᗩᖇOᑌᑎᗪ TᕼEᗰ.
KᒪEIO ᗪE ᔕᗩᑎTOᔕ: ᑕEᒪEEEEᔕTIᗩ....ᗯᕼᗩT....ᗯᕼᗩᗩT ᗯᗩᔕ Iᑎ TᕼIᔕ?
ᑕEᒪEᔕTIᗩ ᖇᗩᐯEᑎᗯOOᗪ: ᗩ ᒪOT Oᖴ ᗪIᖴᖴEᖇEᑎT IᑎGᖇEᗪIEᑎTᔕ, ᗷᑌT TᕼE OᑎE YOᑌ'ᖇE ᑭᖇOᗷᗩᗷᒪY ᖴEEᒪIᑎG TᕼE ᗰOᔕT ᖇIGᕼT ᑎOᗯ. Iᔕ TᕼE ᑭEYOTEᔕ....
KᒪEIO ᗪE ᔕᗩᑎTOᔕ: ᑭEYOTEᔕᔕᔕᔕᔕ?
TᕼE ᑕᒪEᗩᑎᔕIᑎG ᑕOᑎTIᑎᑌEᗪ ᗩᔕ KᒪEIO ᑕOᑌᒪᗪ ᖴEEᒪ TᕼE TO᙭Iᑎᔕ ᒪEᗩᐯIᑎG ᕼEᖇ ᗷOᗪY. IT ᗯᗩᔕ ᗯOᖇKIᑎG.
ᗷᑌT ᔕᑌᗪᗪEᑎᒪY, TᕼIᑎGᔕ TOOK ᗩ ᑕOᑎᑕEᖇᑎIᑎG Tᑌᖇᑎ ᗩᔕ ᗩ GIᗩᑎT ᖴᖇOG ᗷEGᗩᑎ TO ᑕOᗰE TOᗯᗩᖇᗪᔕ KᒪEIO.
KᒪEIO ᗪE ᔕᗩᑎTOᔕ: Oᕼ ᗰY GOᗪ, ᗯE ᕼᗩᐯE TO ᖇᑌᑎ!
ᑕEᒪEᔕTIᗩ TᖇIEᗪ TO GET KᒪEIO TO ᗯᗩIT, ᗷᑌT KᒪEIO TOOK Oᖴᖴ. ᗩᒪᒪ TᕼE ᗯᕼIᒪE ᗷᒪᗩIᖇ ᗯᗩᔕ ᔕTᗩᖇIᑎG ᗩT ᗷOTᕼ Oᖴ ᕼEᖇ ᕼᗩᑎᗪᔕ ᗩᑎᗪ ᑭᑌTTIᑎG TᕼEᗰ ᑕᒪOᔕEᖇ ᗩᑎᗪ ᖴᗩᖇTᕼEᖇ ᗩᗯᗩY ᖴᖇOᗰ ᕼEᖇ ᖴᗩᑕE.
ᔕᑌᗪᗪEᑎᒪY, ᗯITᕼOᑌT EᐯEᑎ TᕼIᑎKIᑎG, KᒪEIO TOOK Oᖴᖴ ᖴᖇOᗰ TᕼE ᑭIᑕᑎIᑕ TᗩᗷᒪE ᗩᑎᗪ IᑎTO TᕼE ᗯOOᗪᔕ. TᕼE ᖴᖇOG GᗩᐯE ᑕᕼᗩᔕE ᗩᔕ KᒪEIO ᖇᗩᑎ ᖴᖇOᗰ IT ᗩT ᖴᑌᒪᒪ ᔕᑭEEᗪᔕ. KᒪEIO TᖇIEᗪ TO ᗩᐯOIᗪ IT ᗷY ᕼIᗪIᑎG ᗷEᕼIᑎᗪ EᐯEᖇY TᖇEE ᗩᑎᗪ ᖇOᑕK ᔕᕼE ᑕOᑌᒪᗪ, ᗷEᖴOᖇE TᑌᗰᗷᒪIᑎG ᖴᗩᑕE ᖴIᖇᔕT Iᑎ ᗩ ᑕᖇEEK. ᗯᕼEᑎ ᔕᕼE ᒪOOKEᗪ ᑌᑭ, ᔕᕼE ᗯᗩᔕ ᔕᑌᖇᖇOᑌᑎᗪEᗪ ᗷY GIᗩᑎT ᖴᖇOGᔕ ᑎOᗯ!
KᒪEIO ᗷEGᗩᑎ TO ᕼYᑭEᖇᐯEᑎTIᒪᗩTE.
ᔕᕼE ᑎEEᗪEᗪ ᕼEᒪᑭ. ᔕᕼE ᑭᑌᒪᒪEᗪ OᑌT ᕼEᖇ ᑭᕼOᑎE TO TᖇY ᗩᑎᗪ ᑕᗩᒪᒪ ᑕEᒪEᔕTIᗩ ᗩᑎᗪ ᗷᒪᗩIᖇ. ᗷᑌT ᗯᕼEᑎ ᔕᕼE OᑭEᑎEᗪ IT, ᕼEᖇ ᒪOᑕK ᔕᑕᖇEEᑎ ᗯᗩᔕ ᗪIᖴᖴEᖇEᑎT. ᗩᒪᒪ TᕼE ᑎᑌᗰᗷEᖇᔕ ᗯEᖇE Iᑎ ᗪIᖴᖴEᖇEᑎT ᔕᑭᗩᑕEᔕ. ᔕᕼE TᖇIEᗪ TO EᑎTEᖇ ᕼEᖇ ᑭᗩᔕᔕ ᑕOᗪE.
"IᑎᑕOᖇᖇEᑕT ᑭIᑎ EᑎTEᖇEᗪ"
ᔕᕼE TᖇIEᗪ ᗩGᗩIᑎ
"IᑎᑕOᖇᖇEᑕT ᑭIᑎ EᑎTEᖇEᗪ"
KᒪEIO ᗪE ᔕᗩᑎTOᔕ: ᗯᕼY Iᔕ ᗰY ᑭIᑎ ᑎOT ᗯOᖇKIᑎG!
ᔕᑌᗪᗪEᑎᒪY ᗩ ᖴᖇOG ᒍᑌᗰᑭEᗪ Oᑎ KᒪEIO ᗩᑎᗪ ᑭᑌᔕᕼEᗪ ᕼEᖇ ᖴᗩᑕE ᖴIᖇᔕT IᑎTO TᕼE ᑕᖇEEK. KᒪEIO ᖴOᑌGᕼT Oᖴᖴ TᕼE ᖴᖇOG, ᗷEᗩTIᑎG IT Iᑎ TᕼE ᕼEᗩᗪ ᗯITᕼ ᕼEᖇ ᑕEᒪᒪ ᑭᕼOᑎE. ᗩᑎOTᕼEᖇ ᖴᖇOG ᑕᗩᗰE ᗩᖴTEᖇ ᕼEᖇ, ᗩᔕ ᔕᕼE TᕼEᑎ TᕼᖇEᗯ ᕼEᖇ ᑕEᒪᒪ ᑭᕼOᑎE ᗩT IT ᗩᒪOᑎG ᗯITᕼ ᗯᕼᗩTEᐯEᖇ ᖇOᑕKᔕ ᔕᕼE ᑕOᑌᒪᗪ ᑭIᑕK ᑌᑭ. ᖴIᑎᗩᒪᒪY, TᕼE ᖴᖇOGᔕ ᗷEGᗩᑎ TO ᖇᗩᑎ Oᖴᖴ.
KᒪEIO ᕼᗩᗪ ᗯOᑎ.
ᔕᕼE TᖇIEᗪ TO GET ᑌᑭ, ᗷᑌT ᔕᕼE ᗯᗩᔕ ᔕTIᒪᒪ ᗪIᘔᘔY. ᗯᕼEᑎ ᔕᕼE ᔕTOOᗪ ᑌᑭ, TᕼE ᗯOᖇᒪᗪ ᗷEGᗩᑎ ᔕᑭIᑎᑎIᑎG EᐯEᑎ ᖴᗩᔕTEᖇ.
ᔕOOᑎ, ᗩᒪᒪ ᔕᕼE ᑕOᑌᒪᗪ ᔕEE ᗯᗩᔕ ᗷᒪᗩᑕK.
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Part IV: A Blast From the Past
When Kleio opened her eyes, she was no longer in the creek. And the world was no longer spinning. But even more concerning was the fact that she was in a bed. She looked around, and appeared to be in some sort of cabin. Perhaps she ended up being found by a park ranger or something? The truck stop was surrounded by deep dense woods.
Kleio had no idea how far she had traveled either, or even how long it had been. Kleio went to check her jean pockets for her cellphone, but realized she wasn't wearing them anymore.
Someone had changed her clothing into some sort of old colonial dress.
Just as she began to jump up to figure things out, the door to the old room she was in opened.
Another woman came in, wearing a similar dress to Kleio's.
Strange Woman: Oh thank heavens, you're awake! Welcome to our village. Proctor Randall and Reagan the Blacksmith found you while out hunting early this morning. I'm Sister Bordeaux...
Kleio rubbed her eyes.
Kleio De Santos: Yeah uh...where are my pants?
Sister Bordeaux: Breeches? Why dear, you weren't wearing any clothes when Jason and Reagan found you. But, I let you borrow one of my petticoats. It looks good on you!
Kleio thought to herself that she must have really been tripping last night. Damn Celestia for giving her a potion that had peyotes in it.
Kleio De Santos: Well did they see my cell phone when they found me?
Sister Bordeaux: You're what?
Kleio De Santos: My...do you guys have any phone here? I need to call my friends so they can pick me up. We were just outside Salem when I got lost.
Sister Bordeaux: Ah, Salem! What a magnificent colony. 66 years old it is today, and oh how it's grown. My grandfather told me stories about how it looked back then. They didn't even have a shoemaker!
This woman is out of her mind. Salem is a lot older than 66 years old.
Kleio De Santos: Ok, well...can someone drive me over there?
Sister Bordeaux: Old Man Darwin takes his buggy into Salem every Tuesday. I'm sure he would be delighted to give you a ride.
Kleio De Santos: No no no, Tuesday? I can't wait till Tuesday. I...
Suddenly, Sister Bordeaux stopped talking and bowed her head. A man dressed in all black with a white collar came into the room.
Sister Bordeaux: Good morning Father Black.
Father Black: Good morning, Sister. Thank you for taking care of our new guest...I'll take it from here. Hello young lady, I am Father Black. I run the church and the village here in town. I heard you mention that you need to get to Salem?
Kleio De Santos: Yes, the girl in here before told me that a man named Darwin can take me?
Father Black: He can, but...you're not going anywhere at the moment.
Kleio De Santos: Uh, excuse me?
Father Black: You've taken our clothes, used our beds, and our medicine. You need to work to pay that off.
Kleio De Santos: I didn't ask to be taken here.
Father Black suddenly walked towards Kleio, and slapped her across the face.
Father Black: I will not be talked to like that. Not by a woman. When you talk to me, you will talk to me with respect. Does thou understand?
And with that, Kleio De Santos took a metal pot at her bedside and smacked Father Black across the face with it. Father Black grabbed his face and screamed, as Kleio hit him one more time for good measure in the head to knock him out. Kleio then ran out of the small building and to the outside, trying to hold up her obnoxiously large dress.
When she got out there, she was shocked at what she saw.
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When she got out into the middle of the town, she saw a bunch of people dressed like they were pilgrims! In fact the whole town looked like it was hundreds of years in the past.
Kleio's head hurt as she was trying to wrap her head around what was going on.
She looked behind her. Father Black was still knocked out.
She considered just bolting off and running into the woods, but she had no idea where she was, and the woods were dense. Plus, the entire colony was surrounded by a wooden wall with only one entrance.
Kleio turned to a lady turning butter. The lady looked at her and smiled.
Sister Gray: Hi, I am Sister Gray!
Kleio De Santos: Don't you people know what year it is?
Sister Gray chuckled at her.
Sister Gray: Of course we do, it's 1692.
Kleio looked at the woman stunned. She was nuts.
Or was it Kleio who was crazy? Was it possible that Kleio was still tripping from the potion that Celestia gave her? Yes, that must be it. There is no way that she time-traveled all the way back to 1692.
Although these people definitely fit the bill.
She had to find Old Man Darwin, and demand he give her a ride in his buggy.
She looked around town. She saw the blacksmith, and the schoolhouse, and the shoemaker...and finally, she saw a buggy! It had no horses on it, but Old Man Darwin had to be near. Before she got there however, she saw a man who was locked in stocks.
The man looked at her and started cackling laughing.
Kleio looked at his dirty face disgusted, but also wondering what he did to get in there.
He had three letters carved in his face.
Letter Man: HAHA! You're next!
She kept walking, concerned of the man with his dirty hair and crazy cackling. She walked past to the stables and saw an old man. That must be Old Man Darwin.
Kleio De Santos: Hello, Mr. Darwin?
The old man slowly turned at her. He looked angry and bitter. As if life had beaten him down every day, and this is what the end result was.
Old Man Darwin: Yes?
Kleio De Santos: I...I need a ride into Salem.
Old Man Darwin: I go into Salem on Tuesday.
Kleio De Santos: Yeah, I know...but...I need it now.
Old Man Darwin laughed in her face.
Old Man Darwin: Who are you, woman? Why are you here, and why are you speaking to a man in that tone?
Kleio De Santos: I don't care what gender you are, and quite frankly I'm starting to get annoyed with this idea that just because I'm a woman, I need to be held to a different standard than you.
Kleio started to get angry as she marched towards Old Man Darwin. The old man, scared, back up nearing a lit oil latern on the ground.
Kleio made a fist and grabbed the man by the shirt collar.
Kleio De Santos: Either you're going to take me to town, or I am going to take your buggy and go myself.
The man pushed Kleio back to break free, and in the process accidentally kicked over the latern. The stable began to catch fire, as the man ran out into the town square.
Kleio followed him, and was stopped in her tracks when she saw Father Black...who had awoken from the attack on him earlier.
Old Man Darwin: She is a witch! She caught my stable on fire with her eyes! I saw it!
Father Black: Grab her!
And with that, Kleio was surrounded.
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Part V: The Trial of Kleio De SantosIt didn't take more than a couple hours for the town to set up small courthouse for Kleio's trial. She had been accused of being a witch, and in 1692 Salem, that was essentially a death sentence. But, she still got a trial.
And the judge? None other than Father Black.
Kleio sat in a chair that sat in the front center of the court room, across from Father Black and in front of the rest of the town who were all in attendance. You had Sister Bordeaux, Sister Gray, and Sister Anzu. Then you had Proctor Randall, Reagan the Blacksmith, and even the crazy Letter man from earlier.
Then there were some townsfolk we hadn't met yet. Shoesmith Walker, and the schoolhouse teacher Mr. Best. Other attendees were a small little boy they called Sawyer, who couldn't have been more than 3 years old, and a strange animal they kept in a cage.
Father Black began to speak first.
Father Black: This is the trial of Kleio De Santos. She is accused of being a witch. Everyone in the town will have a chance to speak their peace, and Miss De Santos will be allowed to respond, and then I will make a verdict. Per usual, if found guilty she will be burned at the stake.
Who would like to start?
Kleio's hands were bound by rope. There was nothing she could do. These whack jobs surely were going to kill her.
She kept telling herself that this couldn't be real.
But it felt real.
That's when Kleio realized, she HAD to still be under Celestia's potion. She looked around...everyone in the town...it was obvious. Father Black, Old Man Darwin...they were euphemisms for her opponents! The potion she took had to have been similar to the one they gave Trixie. This is just Kleio's Wizard of Oz story.
Kleio started to feel relieved.
For a moment she thought that she was actually in 1692.
If this was all just a potion trick, she knew what Celestia wanted her to do. She had to go off on every one of her opponents.
Old Man Darwin: I will start! This woman came into my stable. I knew right away that she was a witch by the way she talked to me. Know woman in their right mind would talk to a man like that. And then, she threatened me! She demanded I take her into Salem...probably so she could burn it to the ground. Then, she caught my stable on fire with her eyes!
Father Black nodded sympathetically.
Father Black: And, how do you respond Witch?
Kleio De Santos: Old Man Darwin? What a perfect fit. The fact of the matter is Darwin, you are a washed up has been who can't take accountability for your own actions. You can't accept the fact that it was you who caught your own stable on fire, just like you can't accept the fact that you're responsible for your own losses. Even your own son doesn't respect you...it's always woe is me. Well, why don't you grow a spine and start acting like you're an actual veteran?
Because the truth is, you're not a veteran. You've done nothing. You're one of the oldest ones in this village, and you've accomplished the least. That's why you're going to be shoveling horse shit until you die...which probably won't be long from now.
Darwin scoffed.
Old Man Darwin: Do you hear her? She talks like a witch!
The town began to chant "Burn her!" but Father Black hushed them down.
Father Black: Thank you, Mr. Darwin. We still have many more people to speak.
Sister Bordeaux: Ooh, ooh can I go?
Father Black rubs his temples and gives a reluctant wave of his hand.
Sister Bordeaux: I like Sister Kleio! She seemed really friendly to me.
Father Black: Perhaps thou is a witch as well?
Sister Bordeaux: UH...uhm...nope! Never mind, Kleio bad. She's definitely a witch.
Kleio De Santos chuckled at her.
Kleio De Santos: See, that's your problem, Trixie. You're too naive. You'll go along with anyone and everything. We literally give you a potion and drugged you before the last match so you'd fight XYZ with me. And you left that castle thinking we were best friends.
Sister Bourdeaux began to cry and the crowd began their "Burn her" chant again.
Proctor Randall: Can I go next? I found the witch, with Reagan The Blacksmith. She was butt naked and face down in the creek. She looked like she was in some sort of trance as if she was casting a spell.
The rest of the town gasped.
Father Black: And witch? How do you respond?
Kleio De Santos: And you're who...Jason Randall? Oh I have a lot to say about Jason Randall. How about the fact that you can probably count on Jason Pierre Paul's right hand the amount of times you've beaten me in a match. Some people associate Jason Randall as the epitome of hardcore, but yet who's names are in the record books for the X title? Saint Sully? Alyster Black? Ryan Rondo and J.J.JAY!
Has Randall even one the title more than once?
The only guy you seemed to actually square up equally against was Kayden Knox, of all people. You are the Bull Durham of the FWA. A journey man. And yet, even if the X title were the minor leagues, you still haven't even won that enough times to brag about it.
You're a broken man who has a lot to blame for. How is Penny by the way?
Proctor Randall: How dare you!
Several town members hold Randall back as Kleio smiles.
Father Black: Alright, I feel like we've heard enough.
Kleio interrupts him however.
Kleio De Santos: No no, let's talk about more of you. Ooh how about...what was it Blacksmith Reagan? Reagan you know you can't bring a tag team partner into this tournament right? That means there is nobody to carry you this time. That's the only time right that you could actually win a match? When a Devin Golden or an Aka Yurei comes in to carry you to victory? How is Aka by the way? Abandoned you for another tag team partner...guess she was sick of you not pulling your weight?
Oh...and the rest of you? Who even are all you people? Madison Gray? Death Walker? I feel like some of these tournaments should have some sort of days in the FWA threshold. Any random noob can walk in off the street and claim they're a wrestler, and join a death match tournament?
Then you have the little boy over there, Sawyer Xavier. I actually like you Sawyer, stay golden pony boy. And stay out of my way in this tournament.
And then there is the letter man. I think I proved in our last match who the better of the two of us is..if I didn't prove that already in last year's tournament.
And last, and maybe least...the creepy thing in the cage...we all know that you're just J-
Father Black suddenly interrupts her.
Father Black: No, last is me! And I've had enough of you witch.
Kleio De Santos: You've had enough of me? I think we've all had enough of YOU! Your reign with the X title has gone on long enough. You broke your record, but now, it's time to step aside.
I am not going to beat the same dead horse about this tournament not being before the record date. Because do you want to know the truth? I am not Saint Sully. I don't give a damn about records.
But you're just like him, aren't you.
You couldn't stop thinking about that record? That is all you wanted. You wanted to have your name etched in history. You know before I came here, I thought I wanted the same thing. Or well, I didn't want Sully to have it. I wanted to erase him from the record books, and replace his name with my own.
But do you want to know something?
Do you want to know what separates me from you and Sully?
I don't care about the records, and quite frankly I don't even care about that title. A year ago I almost won this tournament, when I came in and I set out to prove that a woman was going to win KING of the Deathmatch. The entire tournament in itself is pandering to this stereotypical image of who's hardcore. A man...a king.
Well I hate Kings.
I am the Queen of the Witches!
And unlike last year, I am not going to fall short. I proved that I am one of the most hardcore in the FWA when I made it all the way to the end of this tournament, but this time there will be no stopping me. I am not worried about records, or titles, and I'm not worried about whoever the fuck the weasel is either.
You can throw whatever you want at me!
NOTHING.
WILL.
STOP.
ME.
Everyone in the town hall stares at her blankly, until Father Black speaks.
Father Black: Well, she confessed. Let's burn her.
[ATTACH type="full" alt="1680505015412.png"]47159[/ATTACH]
Fast forward to a short time later, and Kleio finds herself tied to a stack.
The crowd is chanting again.
"Burn her!"
"Burn her!"
"Burn her!"
Kleio gulps.
When suddenly, a 2023 Buick crashes through the wooden wall and drives right up to the stake. It's Blair and Celestia! Blair quickly cuts the ropes.
Celestia Ravenwood: Get in!
Blair and Kleio jump into the car, and quickly drive out of the village, nearly running over the villages. They try to chase them with their torches, but the Buick is too fast.
Blair Ravenwood: We tracked your cellphone, and found it in a nearby river. We figured you were here...
Kleio De Santos: Wait...holy shit...this place was real?
Blair Ravenwood: Yeah, Salem is crazy...
And with that, Kleio shakes her head.
What a crazy goddamn town.
But she proved what she needed to prove.
She is the most hardcore person that is going to be in that death match.
There is no doubt about it.
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Post by supinesnake on May 28, 2024 21:03:40 GMT
Originally posted by Gip. “So….what do you think happens when you die?”
“Stop it.”
“What?”
“I know what you’re doing.”
“I’m asking a simple question.”
“….I don’t think it’s a scary situation. The fear comes in the build up as the questions rally up. What religion is right? Did you do enough to deem yourself as good? Stuff like that. Then it probably just happens like a ring bell. Just telling you that there's nothing more you can do or say. Your legacy is locked in. Nothing to add, nothing to subtract. It’s now up to everyone else to keep your memory alive.”
———————
Feeling like you’re trapped in your own mind is always gonna take a toll. You can’t move, even though you actually hadn't tried, you just already know. You would like to open his eyes and know where the hell you are, but your body just refuses to obey you. Instead, your useless commands echoed within yourself, similar to a voice in a hollow cave. But it can’t be, you can’t even open your mouth. The questions start to fill your mind, were you even breathing? Could you even tell if you were? You suddenly can’t focus on your motor functions, it was as if they had never worked before.
Lost in yourself, you try your damn best to listen through the stunned silence, searching for anything, a draft, the sound of your own damn bloodstream in your ears. Anything. And then, before you’ve fully accepted your fate, the sound gradually becomes noticeable. But it’s nothing that Reagan could compare, it seemed that the things around him were still being shaped. A lot and nothingness at the same time. A beach, a forest, a house, a prison. He hears a childish giggle in a hollow tree, strong waves against dry rocks, an out-of-tune microphone, bottles being broken against... He didn't know what. A warm breath against his paralyzed face followed by a dark shiver down his spine.
“Reagan Cole”
The voice bellows out in a low eerie voice and only then does after what feels like an eternity of torment, he finally feels some semblance of peace wash over him in gentle waves. Carefully he flexes his fingers and toes, concerned with how little he felt. It took ages but eventually Reagan does open his eyes. The world around him is foggy, and out of focus in a way. Sounds that were once so close now feel miles from him as he slowly, cautiously sits up. His skin is pale, almost grey. Holy fuck. Everything was so quiet, it was unnerving.
“Hey there.”
Reagan didn’t even see the person at first, so enraptured in the case of where exactly he is. The person before him speaks in a dull monotone voice. He’s got average height, average build, average weight. Sporting a beige suit, bowler hat and a black folder of sorts. He had the most forgettable face Reagan had ever seen. Like for real, every time you blink or look away you probably would forget what he actually looked like. Is this what face blindness feels like?
“Welcome.”
Reagan: “…Hey. I was just wondering where exactly I was.”
“You’re here to help me figure something out.”
Reagan: “Okay. Well I’m not exactly Sherlo-“
“Are you a good person?”
The question smacks Reagan across the face with force.
Reagan: “…That’s a complicated question to answer.”
“And why is that?”
Reagan: “I….there are many different definitions of a person, could you be a bit more specific?”
“Whatever your definition is, go for it.”
Reagan is still taken back by this strange fellow opposite him as he finally manages to stand on his own two feet.
Reagan: “Huh. Well erm, I guess I’ll quickly break it down via categories. I guess as a father, I like to believe that I do the best I can for my son. As a wrestler….Sure. I wouldn’t be where I am without being good. A good overall person, however….. I know I try.”
“Hm.”
The person opposite Reagan is seen flicking through the folder slightly rushed but still with a sense of purpose
Reagan: “Are you okay?”
“Just a moment.”
Suddenly all the noises burst into Reagan’s ears again. A carnival, a park, shopping center, and a primary school. All noises you can connect these venues and more flood the eardrums of The British Apprentice as he has been frozen once again in a stasis state. Only coming back to life when they’ve reached the destination.
“There we go.”
Reagan once again is allowed the opportunity to compose himself as he was once knocked to the ground. He quickly stood in a hurry, his head desperately whipping around to find out what the mysterious person just did. What he saw next, he could never have prepared for. Reagan’s wrestling figure, there it was, but now it was in Jason’s hands. His trembling sobs, his heart shattering screams- they were but mere white noise to Reagan. His cries for help fell short of reaching the former FWA Tag Team Champion, as though the father was listening to the son through a thick wall.
Reagan: “What the fuck? Why are you showing me this?”
“Easy. You said you do the best for your son so I just wanted to check up on him.”
Jason folded further inwards on himself, wailing into his knees, pressing his face into the action figure. Reagan scans the situation around his son to try and find out the circumstance of the situation and immediately finds them.
Reagan: “….Is that fucking Leon’s kid? I told Leon to tell his kid to stay away!”
“You did. Then it says you left them. So Leon O’Reilly’s kid just…continued where he left off I guess, that will be going in his file for the record.”
On unsteady feet Reagan stumbles forward, desperately scrambling to reach out to her friend and comfort his son when it suddenly seemed like his whole world shattered as she fell through Jason. Phasing through him like air through early spring grass. He sank to his knees in a similar fashion to Jason.
“Yeah probably should have told you that would happen. Oh well.”
Reagan: “This doesn’t make sense. This is Jason we’re talking about, he would have told someone.”
“Yeah he did. He told the person that picked him up. Xavier DeCollins, I believe is his name?”
Reagan: “Yes! So it’s atleast getting sorte-“
“Not what this says.”
Reagan: “What.”
“In a normal situation, sure would have been resolved but you forget that Xavier doesn’t know the last time this happened so he saw it as more of a “kids being kids” situation let’s say and put it….let’s say lower on his list of things to do.”
Reagan: “No that doesn’t make sense, Xavier love-“
“It’s pretty common for this group to do this huh? Put your missions ahead of other people.”
Reagan: “Could you fucking let me spea-“
“Like putting your match with Darius Wright for a world championship over being there for a friend of yours who ended up becoming…Brainwashed i believe?”
Reagan: “Listen I couldn’t stop what happened to Nova but I was there imme-“
“Or letting down Jason Randall by having your mind already set on a tag title match that you didn’t even up winning?”
Reagan: “Alrigh-“
“Or how about Trixi-“
Reagan: “No! That one’s bullshit.”
“Explain.”
Reagan: “I…i’m getting her ready. Listen you look in the weird files you have and you’ll at first see a child with no comprehension skills, a child that gets chewed up in these environments. See, FWA loves throwing kids into the ponds with sharks and seeing if they swim or float! I faced a CWA world champion in my first match in FWA and i would still consider myself lucky! People like Logan Darwin get Devin Golden and yours truly a show after we both lost title opportunities, Vampyra I think her name is got put in a tournament with the best of the best with just two matches under her belt! And FWA expected her to win. So I saw Trixie struggling with KODM coming up and I knew. Just like weaselperson or whatever his name is and Madison that she would be thrown into this. And now she’s running out from the back with the prime directive of attack and guess who taught her that?”
“Jeffry?”
Reagan: “Me. So I don’t care what you say but call me selfish again and see what happens.” |
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Post by supinesnake on May 28, 2024 21:04:13 GMT
Originally posted by Shade. ~ On April 2nd 2023 a letter was received by FWA management. The letter was received by an unknown source but soon found it's way to be published online. While sources have been unable to speak to management regarding it's contents. The FWA has made it clear that they do not condone the contents contained. ~
To whom it may concernFWA Main OfficeTHEY SAY YOU ARE AT YOUR MOST VULNERABLE WHEN YOU START TO FEEL BETTER I’m not here to talk to you about this King of the death match tournament or why I’m going to win it. To be quite frank, I know my reasons for going into this tournament and I know how I will fare. What I will not do is sell my soul again to you people just to fit the format. I will not bastardize myself for a bunch of bottom dwellers nor will I sell myself short so that you can feel better about yourselves and have something to talk about in your meaningless lives. What I will do is tell you a story. This isn’t my attempt to garner sympathy for the devil or make you understand me. This is me finally getting something off my chest. Removing a proverbial anchor from around my neck that has nearly drowned me for years!
Despite the narrative and stories pushed. I wasn’t special. At least I never believed myself to be so. I was a grafter and I had to work for everything I got and sell myself with the knowledge that no one else would. Because in a world where we are all preaching equality I have found that I have never felt like I’ve been given a level playing field. Say what you want about me but I am consistent. You do not hear stories about me not showing up to events. I’ll go out and get fucked up sure but come game time I always fucking perform! I don’t ask for a pat on the back for this or for recognition. But what I’m sick and tired of is oh isn’t that guy great or isn’t this fucker amazing. Yet all they do is the same as me probably for not as long but the fact is you all like them more than me.
In a world supposed to be based on equality and level playing fields. I have constantly been pushed down and cast aside like a leper. I can pretend that i’m above this or that I don’t care yet the fact is do you know how it feels your entire life to be thought of as an afterthought. To know that no matter what you do for people. No matter how hard you work or well you perform that it will never be seen as good enough. Those thoughts last in your brain and they eat away at you to the point that you begin to believe that narrative. Yet then comes the issue, who do I get to turn to in a crisis? If it’s constantly me having to reach out or constantly me being made to feel like an outcast, where do I get to go? Apparently the answer to you people is the bottom of a pill bottle or the last few drips of that Jack Daniels’ bottle. That way you can then turn around and feel better about yourselves by saying I need help without actually asking why. You all get to make your little decrees and declarations without getting your hands dirty.
There was a time when I was happy, believe it or not. There have been a few occasions where I can safely say I was happy. Yet none of you cared or could leave me at peace. You always had to spout your three cents in about me. How you didn’t like me in FWA. How my reputation was tarnished by Michael Garcia being a two bit cheat. Let me put the matter straight because to be quite frank you people have no right to ever talk about me or give opinion on me. As it’s all fake and all bullshit. So on this note let’s let the cat out the bag, get down to brass tax and talk about the elephant in the room. That elephant being why did Dan Maskell leave the FWA? Now if you ask the so called people in the “know” about why I left the FWA under such a black cloud. They will push this story that I’m a royalist and I left the federation after the queen died because of a series of ‘jokes’ made by those people.
They called me a hypocrite for leaving after these comments and I know many people believe that to be the truth. Yet the fact is none of these people know the real reason I left and the reason that was is because none of them had the balls to come ask me. None of them had the character to see if I was really OK. Instead they just fed this ridiculous assertion about me which others have stupidly bought into. The irony being those who make those comments and called me a hypocrite when all I did was stand up for what I believed in. Are some of the very same people who lost their minds when I called Gabrielle a C*nt to the point we can’t even say it anymore! So please tell me now who the real hypocrite is here?
That’s the difference between myself and them. I’ll stand up in public and say what I don’t like. Yet they can’t do that because they have no backbone. Instead they sit in their little circle who I’ve never fit in with and can proudly say I wouldn’t even try to now. They sit there and make their little remarks because that’s when they feel important and like they matter. They wouldn’t dare consider saying it to me. Instead they’d choose to ghost me or ignore me and act like I’m the one with the problem. You want to call me a hypocrite or make assumptions about me. Well how about this? Everything I did and said about Gabrielle, Michael Garcia and others. Most people, higher ups included, found it funny at the time because they knew I’d get people talking and get a rating. It was when I was gone I was the problem and not liked.
So why am I even back for this one night only tournament when all I’ve ever done is be treated like shit and bad-mouthed? Perhaps despite my earlier statement, now is the time for me to enlighten you. I’m doing this for the same reason a junkie injects that last fix into his veins. I’m doing this for the exact same reason that a serial killer pursues a victim. I can make you a million excuses and false justifications but the truth is I’m here because I need it. To even justify that to you all or attempt to put a spin on it, would make me no better than the rest of the cretins in the back. The irony of this being that nothing I do and no matter how many hoops I jump through will ever be good enough. So even though I am better and even though on my true worst day I eclipse them at their best. I know that I’ll never be accepted or respected by these people. I can act like this doesn’t bother me yet my story is well known.
I’ve been in therapy for longer than I can remember and they say someone is at their most vulnerable when they begin to start building themselves up once more. When I came to FWA, I was in that recovery process and when I fell again. I fell harder and hit a bottom I never even considered probable. I’m not in denial that I allowed myself to be set up to fail, at the end of the day it was my naivety which put me in that position. But there is no denying that those so-called good people were very quick to bury me when I did so. They truly showed me that I didn’t belong as part of some federation or group. Which is fine, because I’ve never felt what it is to be accepted in my life. To have people care about me and like me without wanting anything in return. What to you people is normality to me is mythology. I make no secret of the fact my existence will not be a happy one. My life has meant nothing and my story is one of what if and missed opportunities.
In death I will return to nothingness but just like every time previous. I will still remain and transcend. In mythology we hear stories of revenants and Draugr. Beings doomed to wander this miserable plain until the very end. If that is truly my story and that is truly the way things end for me then I can accept that. In fact I will welcome it with open arms because at least I’ll know that I never bowed anymore for you people. That I never sold myself out again to appease you or fit in. That I never bastardized myself to be a part of your little clique. I’m not coming to this tournament to take part. I’m not going to be a part of the show. I’m a vengeful spirit who cannot be put to rest. I’m a foreign plague looking to ravage the FWA universe. I want to leave this company broken and fractured by the fucking seems for what it did to me. I want all those so called people to watch as I take it’s honor, dignity and respect starting with this tournament. I will leave the FWA and all you subspecies vermin that reside in it down into the abyss with me. Let's see how you like it when you have nothing and those you thought mattered and were with you show that they aren't.
Some say that hate is an emotion that they aren't comfortable with. Yet hate is a part of life and a small bit of hate is more than acceptable for a regular human being to feel. The real emotion to be concerned about is disgust. Because it is not through hate but rather disgust that people have done some of the worst things imaginable. So know that in a world where we are supposed to be level headed and composed. I am going into this not just with hate and rage but with disgust for you parasites. To say I hate you wouldn't be enough. I'm reviled by you and I hate you more than I hate myself. Because you helped mold me into what I become and now you get to see for yourself what happens when the rage and disgust take over! Signed
Dan Maskell PS: To the pretenders who will be overjoyed and excited about my return. You are just as big a part of the problem and for that you can fucking suck on my candy cane! |
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Post by supinesnake on May 28, 2024 21:04:30 GMT
Originally posted by Dustin. I. Overture
“I have tasted the maggots in the mind of the universe. I was not offended. For I knew I had to rise above it all. Or drown in my own shit.
This is the conversation that would likely be echoing through the trees and hills in the silence of the night, if not for the loud chirping of the cricket orchestra, occasionally accompanied by the hoot of an owl. Not to mention the humming of the engine powering the beat-up red 1988 Toyota Tercel cruising along the road, where the conversation was occurring.
TYLER: Now you’re just ripping off songs.
JEFFRY: Damn, didn’t think you’d catch me on that one.
TYLER: I’ve been around you long enough to learn some things other than wrestling, y’know!
JEFFRY: Haha, I guess you have. Sorry dude, I don’t have many good ideas anymore. Between all the hits to the head, the drinking, and getting old, the brain starts to turn to mush.
TYLER: You can’t just channel your “die for a living” days and come up with something? Those videos were awesome.
JEFFRY: Whoa, first of all, it was “live to die, and die to live.” Secondly, those days were far from awesome. You have me cringing just thinking about it, that shit was terrible. They were just different from what everyone else was doing at the time. And third, no, I can’t just come up with something for you. That’s gotta come from you, man.
TYLER: That makes sense, I guess.
JEFFRY: Why are you still worrying about doing a promo for Ground Zero anyway? All you need to do is win your matches. Especially matches where I’ve specifically given you the tools to succeed. If you can’t even win a barbed wire match against those luchadorks, how can you possibly expect to win King of the Deathmatches?
TYLER: Oh fuck off, I wasn’t the one who was pinned!
JEFFRY: Good, keep that attitude up during training, we’re almost there.
TYLER turns and gazes out his window, staying silent for a moment as they zoom past the snow covered pines.
TYLER: Hey Jeff, since you brought it up, I’ve kinda been wanting to talk to you about King of the Deathmatches. I really don’t think I’m ready to do a full deathmatch tournament. Not with the stakes so high. Or with such a high quality field of opponents. Or-
JEFFRY: Of course you’re not ready for any of that stuff. Why do you think we’re driving all this way in the middle of the night? Just relax and trust me, TY. I haven’t steered you wrong yet, have I?
TYLER: No.
JEFFRY: Okay then. I pulled a lot of strings to get you into this thing, but if you follow everything I teach you, I have faith that within just a few short weeks, you’ll not only win Ground Zero, but you’ll do it as the reigning X Champion and, more importantly, the King of the Deathmatches. Just think, you’ll have done more in one month than Reag has in the past two years. And you might even get to beat him in the process, if the brackets line up.
TYLER: If I have to fight Reagan, I will… I don’t know yet, I’ll cross that bridge if I come to it. Why would beating Reagan be a good thing, I thought we wanted him on our side?
JEFFRY: He is on our side. And we all do what we can to help each other. But the only way we can help Reag is to help bring his ego down a notch or two. And in turn, that helps Sarah and Jason. You see why it’s a good thing now?
TYLER processes Mason’s logic in silence for a minute, then nods his head.
TYLER: Surely you can’t really think I can beat Alyster Black though. He’s had that title for so long.
JEFFRY: Black will be the toughest challenge you face, for sure. But he’s shown that he’s not unbeatable. Devin beat him not too long ago. With me showing you what to do, and your natural ability, I have no doubt in my mind that you can beat Aly in this situation.
TYLER: I’m glad at least one of us believes that.
Jeffry steers the wheel and turns the car off the main road and onto a dirt driveway barely visible to anyone who didn’t know it was here. The headlights shine ahead in the new direction and reveal a small cabin up ahead, almost camouflaged by the dense woods surrounding it. Another half-mile down the bouncy dirt road, then the car gets parked right in front of the stairs to the raised porch. The car is shut off and the duo swing their doors open and step out.
JEFFRY: Grab the lantern out of the trunk.
TYLER does as he’s told and retrieves the lantern. He hands it to Jeffry, still in almost complete darkness.
JEFFRY: You couldn’t light it?
TYLER: I don’t have a lighter!
Jeffry groans, but knows TYLER has a point. Jeffry pulls out a black Zippo, along with a pack of menthol Cheyenne filtered cigars. He flicks the lighter and brings the flame to the kerosine wick, then to the cigarette in his mouth, before extinguishing the fire with a satisfying snap of the lid.
Better seen now with the light of the lantern, it appears that the cabin is rather run down. In fact, it seems like no one has touched the place in years. Jeffry leads TYLER up the snow covered steps to the porch, stomping the snow off his boots once they get to the part under the roof. He turns the knob of the unlocked wooden door, then pushes it open with ease, despite what the squeaking hinges may indicate.
Once inside, the smell of stale cigarette smoke hits TYLER in the face like a frying pan, but he does his best to ignore it. The lantern illuminates the inside of the cabin, showing off a whole lot of nothing. The central area where they now stand is seemingly the largest part, with a futon seemingly made of small logs, and a coffee table to match. On the other side of the room, the moon shines through the window onto one of those cheap square poker tables surrounded by four chairs, which appears to have been used as a dining area if the single disgusting looking unwashed plate is any indication. The fact that it is only feet from a sink, oven, and fridge further supports this hypothesis. To the left are the only two doors besides the front door, presumably the bathroom and bedroom.
TYLER: Wait, we drove eight hours just to come to train in a cold, dark, smelly, abandoned cabin with nothing in it?
JEFFRY: For a long time, this cabin was called home. Hell, if home is really where the heart is, I guess this still is home. But don’t worry, we’re not here for the cabin. We’re here for the basement. It’s this way.
Jeffry and TYLER walk past the couch and table and over to the two identical doors. Jeffry heads toward the space between the two doors however, and starts moving his hand along the wall. FInally his finger hits the small dark wooden ring he was searching for and pulls it back, pulling the string it’s attached to and in turn bringing that piece of wall swinging down.
TYLER: What the fuck?
Jeffry steps onto the downed piece of wall and toward the metal door that it concealed. With no need for a handle, he pushes the door open and begins to descend the concrete stairs behind it, TYLER following close behind.
TYLER: Hey, I think there’s a light switch here.
JEFFRY: No, wait!
Too late though, as TYLER has already flipped the switch to the ON position.
TYLER: THERE WERE LIGHTS THIS WHOLE TIME?
JEFFRY: Dude, it’s called atmosphere, I was trying to set the mood to prepare you mentally as well as physically. But no, it’s fine, I guess I just won’t try to do cool things anymore.
TYLER: Wouldn’t the door thing be cooler if I could see it better though?
JEFFRY: No way, the dim lighting provided almost a cinematic… fuck it, nevermind, let’s just get to training.
TYLER follows him in the now very brightly lit concrete steps, surrounded to either side by moss covered stone walls. Upon reaching the bottom, TYLER sees the training room Jeffry had told him about. In stark contrast to the main floor, this area is absolutely massive. With the centerpiece being a very makeshift and barbaric looking ring, the ceiling is easily twice the height of the cabin. Scattered around the empty space are various exercise equipment, albeit equipment altered to be more Jeffry in nature. Punching bags, but with thumbtacks glued to them. Bench press stations, but the benches have beds of nails to lie on. Things of this nature.
JEFFRY: What’s better than a full gym? A full gym with every machine improved to work on pain tolerance as well as its intended purpose.
TYLER isn’t quite sure that’s accurate logic, but Jeffry’s had a long and successful career, clearly some of his wacky ideas must’ve worked along the way. He’s more focused on the ring he’s supposed to train in anyway.
TYLER: Hey um, Jeffry. How long has it, uh, been since this ring was used… or cleaned… or inspected…?
JEFFRY: Been a couple years now. But don’t worry, it was designed to look a lot more rugged than it really is. Was more of a prop in videos than anything. Like the wooden canvas?
TYLER looks at the exposed dark oak planks and shivers thinking about what falling on that will feel like. He knocks on it to get a preview, but strangely his knuckle doesn’t make much of a sound.
JEFFRY: Looks pretty real, right? Jason sure was quite the artist, always had a way with optical illusion type shit. Some of the stuff he’d come up with, absolutely magical.
The current Ground Zero star lets out a sigh, almost a small laugh, of relief.
TYLER: Oh thank fuck. I thought all of the equipment was real, but I guess those are all illusions too.
JEFFRY: Huh? Oh, nope, those are all real. Mostly just the canvas.
TYLER: Nice try. If the canvas is fake, surely those are fake too, no one would possibly run on a glass covered treadmill. What else? Hmm, I bet this “2004 Chaotic Cup” trophy opens up some secret passage to the REAL real training spot?
JEFFRY: Actually…
TYLER smiles in an “I know you’re full of shit” kind of way before grasping the trophy by one of its handles. The smile disappears when the trophy doesn’t move from its spot on the shelf. Instead, the trophy and small wooden shelf seem to be acting as a handle, sliding a portion of the wall to the side.
TYLER: Okay seriously? Why do you even have so many hidden passages? What are you, a Scooby-Doo villain?
JEFFRY: Says the man actually wearing a literal mask. I just think they’re pretty cool, okay? Anyway… this actually WAS supposed to be where I wanted to train you today. But since you went and discovered a secret passage anyway, I guess we may as well go in. You won’t be able to fully focus until this mystery is solved, I do know that about you. Go ahead, dude, lead the way.
TYLER stares questioningly at Jeffry for a moment, then toward the hole previously hidden by the wall. It is a stone tunnel about seven feet tall and four feet wide. Curiosity wins out against hesitation, and TYLER enters the tunnel. Not having brought the lantern, TYLER runs his hands against the sides to guide him as the darkness grows. Before it becomes fully dark though, a purple glow is seen coming from what seems likely to be the end of the tunnel. The light grows brighter the more they walk, and the faint sound of running water becomes louder. After a couple of minutes, TYLER steps into an enormous cavern with Jeffry, and even with everything he has seen tonight, he cannot believe his eyes.
The walls seem to glisten as each tiny flake and speck of minerals and whatnot in the walls each appear to reflect the brilliant violet glow in its own unique way. The shining light also illuminates the small stream running along one side of the cavern. The waterfall is gentle, almost peaceful, despite the water falling from almost twenty feet into the pool running into the stream below. TYLER only glances briefly at all of this though, as it is the source of the light itself that has him most intrigued.
JEFFRY: This was Lucidity’s favorite place in the whole world. She could spend hours down here. Probably days, if sleep and being a mother weren’t more important priorities. I never got much into any of that witch stuff, or crystals or Ouija boards or whatever else she was into. And I gotta give it to her, this place really is the best. Being here… I don’t know how to describe it. It’s like feeling every feeling a man can feel, but feeling nothing whatsoever at the same time.
Jeffry senses that TYLER might be too shocked by this same sensation to move toward his curiosity, and begins walking over to the light source himself. On the ground in the center of the cavern like some sort of glowing prismatic campfire is the source of the light.
JEFFRY: Amethyst. I know, they almost look like light tubes though, don’t they? Lucy always said it held some sort of power, that this one was special, but I never really understood or, to be honest, believed her. Something about a “soul-bond”... well, I guess I don’t really need to tell YOU of all people how it works. And again, dude-
TYLER: Nah, no need to apologize. I know you’ve done all you can to try to reverse this mess. But to be quite honest myself now, I think it’s made life a bit better. Well, for the three of us anyway, maybe not a lot of other people. But still, I’m thankful for it. I think deep down, Reagan is too, and even eventually Sarah and Jason might be.
Jeff leans on one of the purple cylinders sticking up from the crystal cluster base.
JEFFRY: That would be nice. Then again, if we ever reverse this whole soul-bond thing, I’ll have to wait until then to see if you really mean any of that. I wonder…
Jeffry looks down at the violet cluster, and TYLER looks as well. TYLER slowly reaches out his hand and touches one of the tubes.
II. The Temples of the FWA
The man in the black, gray, and white mask awakens from… not quite sleep, but what was it exactly? In fact…
???: Where am I?
The man rises from the rock he was using as a pillow in a shallow stream and looks around in awe at the surrounding cavern. A frightening thought suddenly overpowered the feeling of being in a strange place.
???: WHO am I?
The man feels at the wet fabric on his face, not quite getting a grasp on the reality of any part of his current situation. He stumbles to his feet and takes in the beauty of a cavern that feels so familiar, yet he can’t for the life of him figure out how or why.
Looking around through the mostly dim cavern, he notices a light shining through an opening not too far from where he stood. Figuring he could spark some kind of memory if he was able to see better, he heads toward the light. Exiting the cavern through a narrow tunnel, he exits into the sunlight. Or, at least what he thought was sunlight. Upon leaving the tunnel, he comes to the realization that the light which helped him escape was coming from the bright LED lights of what looks to be some sort of locker room. At least the man spots a mirror on the wall, maybe he can at least figure out who he is.
???: TYLER?
While he may still be clueless about his identity or whereabouts, he at least thinks he knows his own name, which is a start. Any further investigation will need to wait, as a loud muffled voice comes from somewhere out of the door to the hallway. TYLER follows it, wondering what any of this means. Out of the locker room, he strolls down the mostly empty hallway, making mental notes of any signs along the way so as to not get lost should he need to return. A corner is turned, and another, and all of these hallways look exactly the same. The sign thing didn’t really pan out too well, as almost the only signs he saw were repeats of an advertisement for some kind of blender. If the sounds weren’t constantly getting louder, he’d swear he was going in circles. He sees a man in a black suit with a clipboard and a headset, so he approaches him to inquire about what this place and these noises are.
TYLER: Um, excuse me…
STAGEHAND: Oh thank shit, you’re here. You must be the luchador they brought in to replace El Perro Loco. Cutting it a bit close, don’t you think? Come on, you gotta get out there now, Mikey’s just about done with his entrance. Say, kid, what’s your name anyway? Wait, don’t tell me it’s really TYLER. Hahaha, fuck, no time to come up with something better, and you’re just doing a quick squash anyway.
The stagehand leads TYLER down a labyrinth of similar corridors, before finally arriving in front of a couple of black curtains. The stagehand nudges him toward the curtains.
STAGEHAND: Just in time, ok kid, go out there and just do whatever Mikey tells you, he’ll take care of you out there. Good luck!
Confused about everything, but not really sure what other option he has, TYLER steps through the curtains. On the other side, he is greeted by an extraordinary sight. A stadium or coliseum of some sort, with the stands packed with thousands of fans. Most of the fans stare straight ahead toward the center attraction: a wrestling ring! In it stands a referee and a big muscular looking man with a neon green spiky mohawk. Unsure of why exactly, TYLER keeps walking down the aisle toward the ringside area. On the side of the ring, and plastered in various other locations around the arena, he notices a logo with the letters “FWA”. Not extremely helpful, but it’s a start.
TYLER finally reaches the ring and rolls in under the bottom rope. Now that he’s within a few feet, he notices the mohawk man’s shirt and realizes that this must be Mikey. “Sinister” Mikey Osbourne, according to the shirt. He might be about the same size as TYLER, but he has him beat in the intimidation department for sure. Before he knows it, a bell is rung and Mikey has already put him in a side headlock.
MIKEY: Shoot me off, then clothesline.
Not sure of what that meant, or why Mikey was talking to him in the middle of a bout, TYLER has no time to react, as Mikey more or less leads himself toward the ropes. He lets go of the headlock and rebounds toward TYLER, hitting the masked man to the ground. TYLER is in pain. But not nearly as much as he had anticipated. Perhaps he was a wrestler before his memory loss? It would explain the mask, too.
TYLER gets to his feet. He looks around at the borderline unresponsive crowd, but his attention is quickly averted back to Mikey who has picked him up and muscled him back into the corner pads. He rears his right hand back and delivers a knife-edge chop. The stinging pain has hardly had time to register before Mikey connects with another. He goes for a third one, but TYLER instinctively ducks under it and rolls toward the opposite corner. He spots a flag on the ring apron, it must’ve been something Mikey brought to the ring with him. Without a plan other than surviving this fight, he grabs the flagpole and gets to his feet. He thinks he hears the referee quietly say something to him, but his arms are already in motion and he cracks the wooden pole over the head of Mikey Osbourne.
A collective gasp is heard from the stands, followed by the frantic chiming of the ring bell. The ref and multiple security guards get the flag away from TYLER and back him towards the ropes and out of the ring, escorting him back up the aisle toward the curtain he arrived from. Once beyond the curtain, the guards release him and tell him to “get lost and don’t come back.” He walks down one of the hallways, passing the stagehand who stares at him and shakes his head disapprovingly.
He can’t believe what just happened. Why was Mikey talking to him, was this some sort of fixed fight? If that’s the case, why did everything hurt so bad? He walked a bit further down the mostly vacant halls, stopping to view a monitor at approximately a 165 degree angle to the TV. He wasn’t sure why, but something about watching TV in this manner just felt right. He watched the next match. It looked like a fight. It sounded like a fight. Hell, he could confirm for himself that it sure felt real. But something was off. And when the next match started, he noticed it too.
FWA must stand for Fake Wrestling Association. Every move hurt, but the match was scripted. And it was scripted the same. Every. Single. Time. Every match had a masked guy who’d do a lot of flips. Every match ended when the muscular guy put the smaller guy in a submission. Every match had the same extended chinlock section. Something else was off too, though. In every match, the fans who were watching this FWA show seemed like they couldn't care less about what was happening in the ring. In fact, after moving to the front of the TV, he noticed that the fans almost certainly didn’t want to be there, as a lot of them were actually handcuffed to their seats! What kind of world had he been living in for… however long he’s been alive.
Deflated, he continues walking a short while before noticing the closed cheese cart which signified he was close to the abandoned locker room. He finds his way back inside and makes his way through the tunnel to the dark cavern, the same as he left it a half-hour prior. That is, until something different caught his eye.
III. Discovery
Another bright light seemed to be coming from somewhere besides the entrance tunnel. It appeared that the light was shining in from behind the waterfall. In his earlier confusion, did he simply not see this, or had it not been illuminated earlier? Either way, it was his only other option at this moment. TYLER walked parallel to the stream and toward the waterfall. First sticking his hand through the cool falling water and only feeling space behind it, he walks under and into the cave within the cave.
On the other side, TYLER can hardly see anything. Going from a dim cavern to a confined space the size of a large closet filled with light is suddenly blinding, taking several moments for TYLER’s eyes to adjust to the lights. And once they do, that’s exactly what they see: nothing but lights! All 3 walls and the ceiling of this hidden “room” are covered entirely by fluorescent light fixtures.
Why is this here? Who put all of this here? Why did he feel such a strong home-like connection inside this place? Where was the power coming from to keep all of these lit? Looking around for clues appears to be a dead end. The fixtures have no wires, all this room has is lights.
Wait. His eyes needing to readjust almost any time he moves, he notices something on the floor. Yes, in the center of the room, raised above the rest of the dirt floor is a wide flat stone. And upon that stone, he sees a long object but can’t quite make out what it is. He slowly kneels to the ground to view it better. With a sense of wonder, the long black object becomes clearer. While he only has memories of the past couple of hours, he somehow knows that it is the most beautiful thing he’s seen in his life.
TYLER outstretches his arms toward the object. With a strong admiration and sense of wonder toward the object, he grips the smooth and narrow side of the shaft and lifts it up in front of his face, inspecting every inch of it with a smile. Oddly enough, his smile is the biggest when he grips the thicker end covered in barbed wire, squeezing hard enough to have one of the small spikes puncture his palm.
TYLER: What can this strange device be? When I touch it, it brings forth my blood. It’s got wire with sharp points, to give violence. What can this thing be that I’ve found?
He thinks about the FWA earlier. All of those fans looked so miserable. Hell, the wrestlers looked miserable to be there too. What if… no, there’s no way it could be that simple, right? What if he went back and changed the script? The only thing the fans really reacted to at all was when TYLER snapped the flagpole over Mikey’s head. The sensation he feels with this barbed wire bat in his hand… could that be what the fans felt at that moment? He roughly drags a barb across the flesh of his palm and draws blood once more. It makes him feel… alive! He draws his hand to his mouth and tastes the thick iron-flavored red liquid. YES! This is what the fighting needed in order to make the people happy once again! VIOLENCE AND BLOODSHED!
TYLER: I can’t wait to share this new wonder. The people shall all feel these lights. Let them all see ultraviolence. The promoters shall praise my name on this night!
IV. Presentation
Emerging from the tunnel and back into the arena hallways with a proud grin and his newfound weapon/friend in hand, TYLER knows exactly where to go. He navigates the labyrinth of corridors with ease until he comes to the area before the curtain. He approaches the stagehand from earlier.
TYLER: Excuse me, Mr…. actually, I never got your name.
The stagehand turns to see who’s addressing him and scoffs at the man he sees before him.
STAGEHAND: Oh no, no way. You have quite the nerve showing your face here again after what you pulled earlier. You should leave befor- EGAD, WHAT ON EARTH IS THAT THING? OH MY GOD, PLEASE DON’T HURT ME!
This wasn’t really TY’s plan, but he’s able to think fast and roll with it. He rears back with the bat and takes a step toward the man.
TYLER: Then take me to the script writers, immediately!
The stagehand squirms nervously with his back against the wall.
STAGEHAND: Please, no, I can’t do that. You don’t understand, nobody gets to see them. Even I only get to communicate with them through this headset.
TYLER grabs the portly man by the collar of his suit and puts the barbed wire side of the bat dangerously close to his face.
TYLER: Bring me to them or I grate your face and open that cheese cart back up.
STAGEHAND: I don’t know anything about a cheese cart, but fine I’ll take you to The Promoters. I assure you they won’t be happy with this though.
TYLER: I don’t care if they’re happy. I want the PEOPLE to be happy!
TYLER releases the stagehand, who pauses a moment to readjust his suit, then motions for TYLER to follow him. After another long and winding stroll through different hallways that still look the same, they get to the red door. TYLER knows it must be the door, because it is the only door he has seen in any of these hallways that is any color besides a dull beige.
STAGEHAND: Ok, this is where they are. I’ve done what you’ve asked, now I’m leaving because I want no part of what you’re going to do, or what the consequences will be. Good day!
The still unnamed stagehand turns and scurries away. TYLER hardly notices though, immediately opening the red door. Inside is a control room of some sort. There are monitors, and all sorts of electronic equipment everywhere. The main source of light is the glow of four huge computer monitors against the back wall, each with multiple tabs and apps open. In front of each monitor sits the silhouette of a man with a headset in a comfortable computer chair. All of the screens have a good portion dedicated to the show currently happening in the arena, and various writing and music apps across the screens.
TYLER: Are you The Promoters?
All four men immediately halt their furious typing and spin around in the chairs. It’s the man on the far left with an extremely majestic beard and a crown who addresses the stranger.
???: Yes, of course we are. How did you get in here?
TYLER: I just, uh, walked in.
???: Oh. Well uh… get out please? Actually wait, aren’t you… yes, you’re the masked one who ruined our entire show earlier! Do you know how much rewriting we’ve had to do for Back in Business because of your shenanigans? What do you have to say for yourself?
TYLER: I wasn’t supposed to even be there! But that doesn’t matter now, I’ve come across something that will make your whole show better. The people can enjoy wrestling again, and you won’t have to handcuff people to the seats to keep them from leaving.
???: SILENCE! Do you hear this guy? Manley, Danley, Stanley Stanley, do poor King Jimothy’s ears deceive him or did this guy really just say he can make our show better?
The four men let out a collective burst of laughter. TYLER keeps his grin though, knowing the power and beauty he feels from the object in his hand. He holds the barbed wire bat out toward The Promoters.
TYLER: I know, I know, it’s most unusual to come before you so. But I’ve found an ancient miracle, I thought that you should know. Violence and creativity, just think of what it might do. This thing I hold here, it’s the answer to everything. It holds a power as strong as life itself, and I know that if you give it a chance, you’ll feel it too.
Danley cuts off the excited TYLER and speaks to him next. For some reason, Danley’s lips don’t seem to match the sound coming out, but TYLER is more devastated by the words themselves.
DANLEY: Yeah, we know. It’s nothing new, just a waste of time. There’s no place for your barbaric old ways, our fed’s been doing fine. That’s just another toy that helped almost kill FWA and all of wrestling in the first place. Forget about your silly whim, it doesn’t fit our plan.
Hurt, but not defeated, TYLER pleads some more to the other three.
TYLER: I can’t believe you’re saying these things. Surely you can’t believe them. Try it and you’ll see, this bat can save the world, I know it can!
Stanley Stanley leans over and whispers something to King Jimothy.
STANLEY STANLEY: I think this kid might be onto something actually. If we start using barbed wire in our wrestling, that’s less barbed wire that can be used to torture the innocent cows.
King Jimothy simply rolls his eyes at Stanley Stanley, though deep down he knows he might have a point. Instead he addresses TYLER with a distraction.
KING JIMOTHY: Guards! Get him! Please!
TYLER swiftly spins around toward the door and brings back his bat, ready to take out anyone who tries to stop him. The world must become happy through violence, he would not give up on this quest!
Or so he thought. With TY’s back turned to The Promoters, Danley busts out his emergency lasso from under the desk and catches the loop on the barbed wire bat. Before TYLER can even react, Danley pulls the lasso tight and now has possession of the bat! Absolutely distraught over this twist of fate, TYLER can do nothing but watch as Manley takes the bat and snaps it over one of his meaty footballer legs. The Promoters all hop out of their seats and do a ridiculous jumping high five in celebration, as TYLER sinks to his knees with his head hung.
MANLEY: Look son, let me tell you something. We’ve got over a hundred years of AI collected and processed data that tells us how to book the shows. It’s scientifically proven that our show is the best that it can possibly be. WHAT? I said FWA is the best. WHAT? Maybe you need a hearing aid son, ‘cause I’m telling you we don’t need your stinking little bat! Now how about you get the Hell out of here before I drop you on that stack of necks you call a dime! OH HELLLLLLLLL YEAH!!!
V. Oracle
Poor TYLER exits The Promoters’ office and sulks down the hallways of the arena yet again. He still has no idea who he truly is or what this place is. But over the past several hours, he’s come to the realization that this place is truly terrible, and that he obviously wouldn’t be very happy if he remembered his life anyway if it was like this. Maybe it’s better off this way, he keeps telling himself. But it’s of no comfort whatsoever.
He manages to make his way back to the cave in the locker room. It’s the closest thing he knows to having a home. Does he have a wife? Does he have a family? He may never know, but he hopes that if he does, that they will do alright without him. He crawls through the stream and under the waterfall, curling up on the stone which earlier had held the bat that filled him with so much life and emotion. He closes his eyes and manages to fall asleep, his increasingly bleaker stream of consciousness seemingly blocking out the blinding lights surrounding him.
Now in a dream state, TYLER climbs what feels like an endless spiral staircase. In no time at all, while also seeming like an eternity, he reaches the peak of this spiral mountain of stairs. He now stands in a small black and white striped hallway leading to a single white door. To his surprise, a hooded figure in all black stands in front of the door. It reaches its arm toward TYLER and signals him closer. TYLER, too depressed and lost to fight it or even think about it, answers the beckoning figure and walks toward it to take its hand.
Gripping TYLER’s hand now tightly, it opens the door and drags him out. Not into a room though, no. Into space. The figure drags the awestruck TYLER along through the openness of the universe, traveling at unimaginable speeds and seeing impossible things. Multiple planets, galaxies, and even alternate timelines are all sped right by, all sort of whirling together into the most magnificent tie-dye cyclone one’s imagination could possibly come up with.
The figure points his free hand toward the vibrant spinning of colors in the distance like a cosmic conductor to the orchestra of galaxies. With an ever-so-slight motion of his arm, the colors all shift to the sides, creating a frame around a giant black circle. Semi-transparent holograms begin to flash in the circle. TYLER takes it all in and is currently experiencing the ecstasy of a flawless existence through all of this. The flashing of every new image only further intensifies the feeling.
A desert. A naive cutesy girl. A bundle of lighttubes being smashed. Some kind of rodent human thing. A tough guy getting thrown into barbed wire and creating a large explosion. A masked man with a championship. Bloody face after bloody face. Broken glass. Sharp metal. It’s all just so powerful and moving; gladiators getting to have all the creative freedom they want to wrestle for real and not plan the match out; fans enjoying what they’re watching and being genuinely excited by it. What a wonderful sight, seeing a world where there is no one held down by the tyrannical Promoters!
TYLER manages to bring his stare away to look over at the figure who brought him here. But alas, the figure was no more. TYLER swore he was holding his hand this whole time, how did he not notice him disappear?
The dream begins to shake. TYLER must find out how to stay in this reality forever. He can’t lose this feeling! Frantically searching around, TYLER looks again at the light swirl. It’s becoming more unstable every minute, but TYLER can still make out a few of the images as the lights grow brighter and more blinding. The last image is of the hooded figure, and it appears to be standing on a throne in the center of the desert arena. He now wears an odd spiked crown on top of his hood, and looks to have one foot stomped down on the championship belt the masked man was wearing in an earlier image. Then the colors become completely unstable, and a flash of white light destroys everything in an instant.
VI. Soliloquy
The universe destroying light begins to fade slowly, and TYLER lifts his head and opens his eyes. This is not the atomic light that had killed him moments prior. This was just the light in the cave. Which means that yup, all of that was only a dream and nothing more. He was back in this mindless Hell.
The immediate transition from the highest of highs to the lowest of lows is too much for TYLER to take. He lies unmoving on his stone bed for hours, exploring every corner of his imagination, desperately seeking a solution to his problem. Hopelessly wondering how the actual fuck to get out of here. It’s pointless.
He lies and stares at the lights, not caring if he goes blind because at least then, he will never have to suffer the fate of seeing all the misery and hatred in a world void of any freedom. The blindness must be setting in sooner than imagined, as TYLER begins to see spots. “No wait,” he thought. “Those aren’t just spots. They’re letters. Is my space guide trying to tell me something?” And once he realized it, he started paying attention to the letters. To the words. To the deeper meaning.
L I V E T O D I E D I E T O L I V E
Though to a stranger it would seem like oxymoronic gibberish, this awakens something within TYLER. It is not a happy feeling. Nor is it a feeling at all actually, but more of a memory? TYLER isn’t sure. But he knows what must be done.
TYLER must die.
Whether it will bring him back to some kind of good life through reincarnation or whatever, or whether it just ends this miserable existence, TYLER can think of no better option. Living here isn’t any kind of living anyway. He will never again know the absolute magnificence that he experienced in his dream.
One way or another, TYLER knows he simply cannot carry on in this cold and lifeless life. He rises to his feet and stumbles toward the waterfall.
TYLER: Live to die, die to live.
He keeps repeating the mantra out loud as the cold mountain water pours on top of him and soaks his clothing.
TYLER: Live to die, die to live!
He clenches his fists and prepares for what’s about to happen next.
TYLER: LIVE TO DIE, DIE TO LIVE!!!!!
With one final exclamation of the mysterious phrase, he sprints as fast as he can toward the wall of lights. His wet clothes slow him down, but he’s too determined to let it ruin his plan. Using the stone bed as a launching pad, he leaps and soars through the air like poetry in motion toward the wall of glowing glass tubes. Glass shatters! The damp clothes mix with the electricity powering the bulbs, sending many volts surging through TYLER’s body and creating a massive fireball of an explosion, blasting TYLER’s lifeless frame through the air and out into the main cave!
Time seems like it has frozen. TYLER is still alive and conscious, but the lifeblood is draining fast from his body. Sprawled across the cold stone ground, he is a bloody and charred ragdoll. He knows that very soon the end to this Hell will be brought to his doorstop, gift wrapped and hand delivered by death itself. And wouldn’t you know it, here he comes. With only the energy to move his eyes, TYLER shifts his gaze toward the figure heading toward his dying body. It’s the same figure from the dream! Was he dreaming of death the whole time?
There isn’t much time to find out. Before he knows it, the figure in black is knelt down by his side, gently touching TYLER’s right shoulder. TYLER tries to focus his blurry eyes to make out the figure’s face now that he is finally close enough to see it. It’s a familiar face, but with his memory wiped, he can’t quite place why it’s familiar. FUCK!
A name for the figure comes at last, fittingly simultaneous with the final gasp of oxygen that would enter his lungs.
VII. The Grand Finale
TYLER: SAVIOR OF DEATH!
TYLER sits straight up on the cold rocky ground and breathes heavily. The hand on his shoulder tries to get him to relax.
JEFFRY: Whoa, yeah dude, that’s what they call me. You gotta chill the fuck out though dude. Are you alright? TY, you okay man?
TYLER begins to breathe a little bit slower. He first looks down at his body. No blood or cuts, no burns, completely dry. He then looks up to see the ultraviolet crystal cluster emitting its purple glow throughout the cavern. He remembers this. In fact, he remembers everything! He looks up at the man who helped him to calm down. It’s Jeffry. He gets up to his knees and gives Jeffry Mason a gigantic hug, taking the big man by surprise a bit.
JEFFRY: Okay okay, enough of that buddy. I’m glad you’re alright though, I was starting to get worried. You just touched one of those amethyst crystals and fainted or something. You were out cold for like a good three minutes.
Jeffry gets to his feet and clutches TYLER’s wrist, pulling him to his feet as well. TYLER doesn’t necessarily understand what just transpired over the last few hours… or the last few minutes, apparently. Surely that wasn’t all just a dream. Or a hallucination, even. No, that was something different. Something real.
TYLER: Yeah, that was something alright. I feel alright now I guess.
JEFFRY: That’s good. So are you… y’know, back to being you again?
TYLER: I- honestly, I wish I knew.
Something over Jeffry’s left shoulder catches TYLER’S attention. Coming from behind the waterfall. It’s the light room!
TYLER: I sorta believe that both, uh, “me’s” are “me.” If that makes any sense. Like maybe I’m living two realities at once or something.
JEFFRY: Fuck, that’s pretty deep. You sure you’re alright, maybe you hit your head. What kind of crazy shit did you see when you were out? Do you wanna put off training for a day or two?
TYLER stares at the light and realizes that it didn’t matter how many realities he was living in (if that even was the case), the reality he could see and feel at this very moment wasn’t anything like the one he endured minutes ago. And he was gonna do his best in this existence to keep it that way, not only for himself, but for the people close to him as well. If what he saw in his other one was any kind of warning sign, he knew now that he needed to help protect Jeffry and his whole legacy of deathmatch stuff just as badly as Jeffry needed him.
TYLER: No, I’m good to train today. But it’s not me that’s going to be training. It’s going to be you.
JEFFRY: What the fuck? Haha, what do you mean? I’m getting old, broken down, and my knee is shot. What do I have to train for?
TYLER: I…I don’t really know how to explain…just trust me Jeff. Please, I need you to trust me. It NEEDS to be you in King of the Deathmatch. It just does.
JEFFRY: Look, I had to pull some strings to even get you into the tournament…
TYLER: And I’m sure those strings won’t be hard to pull a little more. If FWA has a choice to have a deathmatch legend who has proven to put on a spectacular performance on a grand stage, or to have the Ground Zero participant, do you really think you’ll have to do much begging?
Jeffry looks TYLER in the eyes and contemplates the proposal laid out before him.
JEFFRY: Alright. I don’t know how, but I’ve let you twist my arm into doing this somehow. Jeffry Mason’s first deathmatch tournament since the one where I fucked up my knee against Darius in the finals years ago. We’ve definitely got a LOT of training to do though, because I’m not going in there to halfass anything. I’m going in to win that crown or dammit, die trying.
TYLER: Live to die, die to live, right?
This catches Jeffry off guard, especially being brought up twice in one night with such different contexts. He can’t help but smile and let out a small chuckle.
JEFFRY: Maybe that wasn’t such a bad catchphrase after all. Tell you what, I’ll meet you back at the ring in ten minutes. If I’m gonna be training, I need to get my nicotine levels up and have a few minutes to myself to ponder some of my life choices. And thanks, dude.
TYLER: For what?
JEFFRY: For believing in me.
TYLER: Same to you, Jeff. Same to you.
TYLER turns and walks back toward the narrow tunnel back to the ring area. Jeffry hangs back and lights another cigarette. Once he’s sure TYLER is gone, Jeffry turns back to the amethyst and stares at it, dragging and puffing away at his cigarette casually while talking.
JEFFRY: Oh my dear Lucidity, it’s good to be back here, I’ve missed you so much. Sorry I haven’t come to visit in a while. You remember what it’s like, being on the road and whatnot, dealing with new friends and the challenges that come along with that. At least I’ll be around to visit you this week. When I’m not training my leg and studying for this King of the Deathmatch tournament, of course. But considering the time change between realms or whatever, I guess that’s still plenty of time, isn’t it?
Mason shakes his head and laughs to himself, blowing another puff of smoke. He lays on the ground next to the amethyst and looks at his cigarette. Not even half gone.
JEFFRY: This is stupid, I’m just talking to myself when I could be there spending time with you. I told TY ten minutes, it only takes three to die real quick, cook us some dinner, and get back here before this smoke is even out.
Jeffry rolls over onto his side and moves his hand toward the part of the crystal that TYLER touched.
JEFFRY: Live to die, die to live, hahaha. If he only knew.
The Savior of Death chuckles one last time before gently pressing his hand against the glowing purple stone. His hand goes limp and falls to the ground, the cigarette still sending its wisps of smoke from between his fingers like some sort of hourglass, eerily counting the minutes until Jeffry Mason would return back to the living. |
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Post by supinesnake on May 28, 2024 21:04:50 GMT
Originally posted by Oz. 2033, Manhattan, New York The past couple of check-ups have confirmed a recent trend about Stu’s body. The frosting over his brain was slowly melting. He was becoming less of an anomaly and he didn’t know if this was a good thing or not. One thing he took away from that though, one thing that he certainly didn’t like was the fact that his age was finally catching up to him because of this. Long gone were the days he could pull off moonsaults that defied a seven foot five figure and the age of fifty-two. Nowadays he couldn’t even walk without a walking stick, he couldn’t even see properly without glasses. But all things considered, he lived a good life. Good two lives or maybe even three if you wanted to be generous about it. A lucky few had managed to cheat death in their lifetimes but it took a special man to do it twice. However, Stu didn’t expect that to happen for a third time, not particularly. The defrosting and the proper aging function it unlocked over his body was certainly a sign of that. The biologically sixty-three but chronologically ninety-three year old man had made peace with that. That’s why he tried to fill the rest of his life with as much joy as possible. He walked slowly with the assistance of the stick. The doors were big enough to accommodate Stu and his decreasing mobility, a boon that Caesar’s old New York apartment had lacked. He didn’t know if the Roman had taken that into account when choosing this new house but The Friendly Giant certainly liked to believe so. Stu took his time descending down the stairs that led to the big living room where he and Caesar were supposed to watch the National Chariot Racing League finals together. It wasn’t Stu’s favourite sport in the world but it was obviously something that drew the enthusiasm of a Roman man so the mountain of a man was more than alright with conceding to Caesar’s interests most of the time. He valued the times spent together more than how they were spent together, after all. He’d lived a long life, he figured he wasn’t going to be picky during its final stages. There was one big elephant in the room, however. No, it wasn’t Stu Grimes. It wasn’t even someone’s presence, it was the lack of it. Caesar wasn’t there. The table that was supposed to be filled with snacks had no bowl or mugs on it, only a piece of paper with a note written on it. Stu sat down on the big, comfy couch before his hand was able to reach and grab the note. The free hand adjusted his glasses and he began to read. ‘Dear Stu,
I’m terribly sorry for not being home at the moment you’re reading this note. I was as excited as you to watch the Chariot Racing finals and watch my boys Shiny Swarm take home the trophy. But alas, I got a call from my son’s kindergarten teacher. Apparently, little Lucius has thrown a fit in the class, demanding a triumph to be held in his honor after he got the most gold stars in his class over the last month. I, of course, have to go to his school and argue to his teacher that getting that many gold stars is indeed an achievement worthy of a triumph. If I could get four triumphs from conquering Gaul alone then my son should be able to get at least a single one from conquering the gold star chart. Therefore, I will not be able to watch the finals with you, which I express my most sincere apologies for.
Good news is that you can watch it all by yourself pretty easily. Don’t worry if you don’t know how televisions nowadays work, my television can take verbal orders like a good soldier! I don’t know exactly how, but that’s the wonders of technology for you, Stu! If you tell the television to open and switch to the channel where the finals are, it will do it! Isn’t that amazing? Be sure to cheer extra hard for Shiny Swarm for me as well!
Your friend,
Cornelius Aurelius Caesar.’Stu put the note back on the table and let out a sigh. Being lonely sucked. He guessed he could watch the television by himself like Caesar had suggested in the note. There was a small problem with that plan, however. Even though the Roman had given him the instructions on how to operate his television, he forgot to prepare the snacks for Stu. Did he really want to get up from the comfy sofa, endure a slow and painful walk to the kitchen just to fill his belly? He supposed he would. To stand up again, Stu tried to reach for his walking stick. Instead of being able to grab it, he accidentally pushed the stick which collided with a small bookcase that stood nearby. It wasn’t a big collision, however it was enough to knock one of the books that laid there which ended up losing its battle with gravity before dropping right on Stu’s lap. Stu remained sitting for a moment, frozen (no pun intended) before he picked up the book. He could probably put it back on one of the lower shelves. That plan ended up being interrupted when the title of this rather thin and bland-looking book had caught his attention. Commentarii de King of the Deathmatch. Golden lettering on a crimson red cover. Written by none other than Cornelius Aurelius Caesar. If Stu’s memory, which was also getting worse with this new aging thing going on, served him correctly, Caesar had written two famous books back when he was Julius Caesar. His commentaries on his wars and conquests had been compiled into one of the most popular books ever written in the old Latin language. When Stu woke up from his long coma after the Executive Excellence incident, Caesar told him that he’d gone back to pen and paper and he’d been writing a new series about his commentaries on his professional wrestling career. The Roman told Stu that he could read his books and catch up on what he missed during the time Kayden Knox had stolen from him. Stu remembered reading the first book. Sadly, it didn’t have much excitement in it. He remembered liking the parts where Caesar had space adventures with Uncle Jay but then it fizzled out when Caesar didn’t even do the F1 tournament. That’s mostly why Stu didn’t go out his way to read the next installments. Now that he had the next book in the series in his enormous hands, Stu could think of worse ways to pass the time. Books were familiar. Televisions that picked up on verbal commands were not. Plus, it was about deathmatches so this had to be exciting, right? Stu adjusted his glasses once again and opened the first page. Commentarii de King of the Deathmatch by Cornelius Aurelius CaesarI.
King of the Deathmatch est omnis divisa in duas noctes. Two whole nights. My understanding of warfare history very much indicates that there have been wars shorter than that. During the times of my first life, it even took just a single day to count votes and elect new leaders to govern our country. Most people from both ancient times and modern times would find the idea of the very tournament I’d competed in horrendous. They would dread warfare where honor would be mainly found in pure violence. Seeking the freedom to inflict pain on fellow countrymen would land someone heavy punishments. Yet, we went into a pandemonium like this for sport. Willingly. We choose to participate in King of the Deathmatch. My dear readers, you would think that doing something like that should’ve been second nature for me as I’d been a professional wrestler for multiple years at that point with more success to my name than you’d think a ‘Julius Caesar impersonator’ gimmick would have.
Well, a Julius Caesar impersonator wouldn’t have the same success I had. I’m not an impersonator, that’s why. I’m the real deal. I’ve debated with several respected historians over the years and even though they didn’t end up fully believing my real identity because of the scientific impossibility of such a supernatural phenomenon, they could not come up with anything that could debunk my knowledge on a historical basis. So, if you’re somehow reading this book without prior knowledge of who Cornelius Aurelius Caesar is, then I assume you know now. I’d been a dictator and now I’m a professional wrestler.
And your point might be pointing out that as professional wrestlers, we willingly take the risks and put our bodies on the line every time we step into the ring. Therefore, it would be very absurd of me to describe this tournament as anything beyond that, as in it’s core, it was still professional wrestling. The sport I’d been doing for years, the sport that has kept me paid, as it did many. To which I ask you, have you ever watched chariot racing before? The risk of falling and landing very awkwardly is ever-present. But when you fall from your chariot, you don’t fall into lighttubes all covered with barbed wire.
King of the Deathmatch is when professional wrestling is taken to its extreme, the pinnacle of this sub-genre of wrestling we call hardcore wrestling in the business. Over its history, it had been criticised for its sheer brutality, shunned for taking perfectly healthy men and covering them in many cuts and bruises. Always physically, sometimes even mentally. Personally, I don’t find myself the enjoyer of this genre myself. As a Roman through and through, I abhor barbarity. Unnecessary brutality is the furthest point from any civilization you can have as a human being. It shows the poor character of a society when the most mainstream wrestling company is willing to hold these kinds of events. I simply find the very existence of deathmatches tragic.
Yet, in the faithful spring of 2023, I was one of the twenty wrestlers who took part in the second edition of the tournament that I just spent an entire paragraph bashing. Willingly.
Normally, if you take a look at your average deathmatch wrestler, you see someone who either needs the money, the boost of fame or simply the thrill of violence.
I wasn’t in dire need of money. I’d been a contracted FWA wrestler for two to three years at that point. I had money. I believe my employment status also covers that fame status. I’ve been fortunate enough to be known to more people than the entire population of the Roman Republic during my old life. Also, as you can easily interpret from my previous comments, it’s not the thrill I sought out from this grand display of inhumanity.
To me, King of the Deathmatch was nothing short of a war. Pay attention, I do not use that word lightly.
The tournament reflects the mayhem, the helplessness, the permanent guarantee that people are going to get hurt. People have been changed by putting themselves through this. People are going to get changed by putting themselves through this.
The tournament reflects the endless amount of variables that influences the results. To take part in total warfare, you cannot only focus on a handful of those variables, you have to have a good command of most of them. The Geneva Convention didn’t exist during my military days, just like how deathmatches throw any rules of a standard professional wrestling match out of the window. Everything goes, it’s just a matter of how far you’re willing to go.
If you lose yourself in the glee of violence then you lose the match too. Not losing sight of the win condition is more important than ever. This is more than professional wrestling. You fall if your body can’t take it anymore. You fall all the same if your mind can’t take it anymore.
Despite all of this, I was very calm and proud going into King of the Deathmatch. I was as confident as ever. It was my first time in a deathmatch tournament, yet, for all the reasons I’d stated above, I had the most experience out of anyone being in situations like this. Well, something else too. I will address that key reason later in this book. But my experiences in battles gave me the mindset to be prepared for anything that might’ve been thrown in my way.
The rest of the pack, well, all they knew was picking up Sun Tzu and quoting him to make themselves look like some kind of expert on warfare but let me tell you that Sun Tzu is nothing more than a fraud whose advice was all ridiculous shit like ‘If you’re in a losing position, don’t be.’ or ‘It’s good to have more men than your enemy.’. No part of Art of War is going to teach you how to build two whole walls to trap your enemy in a losing position. If you want the real shit, then go pick up one of my older books. Either Commentarii de Bello Gallico or Commentarii de Bello Civili will do.
At best, my opponents have heard war stories from their grandfathers before they went on about talking about the hardships of war. I experienced those first-hand, I commanded legions, I won decisive victories. Most historians consider me one of the greatest generals in history. I didn’t have an army during King of the Deathmatch, that’s true. But at the end of the day, you have to consider that a general is also a soldier. I’m not sure if that’s the case in modern warfare but back in my day generals fought as hard as the regular soldiers. If a victory is to be won, then both the footsoldier and the general must be smart.. . . While the rest of his camp was busy admiring the beautiful mount, Julius Caesar’s steely gaze remained on his rival. The long-haired man with a moustache that was way overgrown to fit nicely on his upper-lip stood down from his steed. His arms already laid on the floor and as his enemy stood defeated in front of Caesar, the only way he could protect himself came down as well. The great Vercingetorix had taken down his armor as well.
He was surrendering. Alesia was a victory. The Gallic resistance was defeated for once and for all. Years of grueling campaigns had finally come to an end and the newest captive of Caesar’s camp had made Caesar’s stay in the barbaric region of Gaul a living hell for the better part of the last decade.
A valiant effort, but in the end, it was meaningless. Caesar was unmatched in battle and now the arrogant leader of Gauls had learned that firsthand. Raising one eyebrow, the Roman general didn’t even stand up from his chair as he watched this dramatic surrender. What was the man trying to accomplish here? Taking a stand against Caesar’s supposed cruelty by making a show out of his surrender? Trying to display himself as an equal to Caesar by playing these antics?
He was definitely going to describe Vercingetorix’s surrender a lot modestly in the book he was currently writing about his Gallic campaign. He wanted to deny him the spectacle, the next generations that would be educated by reading his book shouldn’t think of this man as anything special.
“I’ve beaten you, general,” addressed Caesar, the defeated man, for the first time since his yield. “I’ve come to these lands to put a stop to your barbarity and defend my Rome from the harm you could’ve brought to it.”
Now the Gallic man was sitting down at Caesar’s feet. Pathetic.
“I’ve come to your lands and defeated your people time after time. You scorched the earth to deny us supplies, but we sacked Avaricum instead. You decided to crush me with your cavalry after Gergovia, but mine proved superior. Here, in Alesia, you had numbers with your main army and the relief armies. But I built a wall to keep your main army in and another to keep the reliefs out. Whatever game you tried to play with me, you’ve lost at each of them.”
Caesar finally stopped looking at his defeated figure and turned his gaze to the Gallic sky that now belonged to him.“I’ve defeated you in your own game, general. You will remember that for the rest of your life.”. . . III.As I continue to write these passages, I realize that I still haven’t given you, my precious readers, a legitimate reason for participating in something like that. You would think I would have enough wars to last me for a lifetime. You would think that I had all the reasons to sit this one out. In addition to all of those, the readers of my last book will know that I had taken a leave of absence from the company during F1 to monitor my dear friend Stu’s situation more closely.
So, why did Cornelius Aurelius Caesar participate in King of the Deathmatch?
Glory. Glory is one of the most common reasons behind wars. And it was no different with me when I decided to contact FWA and make sure I was in the tournament as well. But what was the nature of this glory I was seeking? Did I want the Crown of Thorns?
If you know your history or at least read Shakespeare, then you will know my distaste of crowns.
Did I want the X Championship? Belts are always a goal when you’re a professional wrestler and X Championship has an illustrious history. Tempting, but it wasn’t my main priority.
After everything was said and done, I didn’t want to be the man who was known as the new X Champion after King of the Deathmatch. I wanted to be known as the man who ended Alyster Black’s historic title reign.
For over five hundred days, Alyster Black maintained possession of that title. He’s been through hell and beyond to keep that title, racking defense after defense as he became the longest reigning X Champion ever. Many claim his title reign to be one of the best championship reigns in wrestling history and if you want my honest opinion, I find it very hard to disagree with those people. What Alyster has accomplished is nothing short of incredible. I wanted to dethrone him enough to do a deathmatch tournament but that does not mean I will not give him the flowers he’d deserved. Christians have a saying about situations like this, which will be quite ironic of me to quote here: Render unto Caesar.
I wanted all the glory that would come with ending such a monumental title run. I wanted to cement my legacy in wrestling further. I wanted Cornelius Aurelius Caesar to take one step further away from the shadow of Gaius Julius Caesar. The deserts of America were going to be my new Gaul and Alyster was going to be my new Vercingetorix.
At that point in time, comparing me to Alyster seemed like such a wild comparison. A former world champion, the greatest X champion in history, a legend of CWA … against a bloke who thinks he’s Julius Caesar. I suppose that was fair. My wrestling accomplishments simply faded in comparison to Alyster’s. But what many people had forgotten was the fact that I’d been a thorn in Alyster’s side before when I eliminated him from the Tag Team Battle Royale the same night me and Stu put the final nail in Golden Rock’s coffin.
Now, my dear readers, I do know that what I’ve done doesn’t sound impressive. And in a vacuum, yes, it is not very impressive. All I did was to shove a man who had his back turned on me in a battle royal match. But if you’re going to hold that as a detriment against me then you have to realize that winning a battle royal has been how Alyster became a world champion in FWA in the first place.
What I’m trying to say is simply this, I had no reason to fear Alyster Black. We didn’t look like equals but I would never step up to him if I didn’t see myself as his equal. That’s the mindset all wrestlers should have. Your mind makes up half the battle. If your resolve is strong then you will happily walk into remote deserts to get sliced by cheese graters just a shot at immortality. But if you’re weak then losing will be all you know and you will end up signing all your rights to a shady lawyer who treats you as a third-class citizen.
Kayden, I know that you won’t be reading this, mostly because of the fact that you’re probably illiterate, but I want you to know that I haven’t forgotten what you did. I haven’t forgiven you either. No matter how much you cry, no matter how many times you try to atone, I will never sympathize or empathize with you.
But with Alyster, I did just that. We had both lost our best friends to the cruel tides of the sea. Him in Rio and me in the North Sea. Alyster Black is a man I deeply respect, I wouldn’t have wanted to put an end to his title reign if I hadn’t respected him. But also, I knew that on the right day, I could be better than he ever was. In the mat, in the middle of the desert, with or without weapons.
When I was younger, I was content with the fact that I was going to spend my life as Flamen Dialis, the high priest of Jupiter. But after some civil warring and some political unrest, my priesthood was taken away from me, allowing me to pursue a military career instead. If I stayed as Jupiter’s high priest, my life would never reach such heights as it did as a commander of the Roman army. I found who I was while I was out there, clenching epic victories from the jaws of defeat in the scorching fields of war. And I’m not the only one who held his breath, closed his eyes and just put up the fight of his life once my back against the wall.
Because under special conditions, impossible becomes possible. Intense and stressful positions like this will reveal your character. When facing total defeat or even death, one will put everything they have inside of them out on display. It doesn’t matter if they know that they have it in themselves or not. If they have it, it will come out. Unexpected strength, unexpected resilience, it doesn’t matter if it’s war or deathmatch, even the most unexpected characters might make legends out of themselves.. . . Julius Caesar had never been a heavy drinker. He’d seen the utter fools the alcohol had turned good men into. You could call the man a thousand names like a liar, a power-hungry tyrant but an alcoholic would not be one of them.
Yet, it felt like wine was compulsory during this prolonged stay in Alexandria. Prolonged and entirely unwilling. A step outside meant facing the rioters backed by the boy king Ptolemy and his advisors and Caesar’s arrogance sometimes had a nasty habit of biting him back in the ass. Romans weren’t a fan favourite in the Egyptian streets at the moment.
The feeling was quite mutual if you asked him. The whole Ptolemy dynasty owed huge debts to Rome, for one. Yet, that was not the reason for his presence in Egypt. Pompey had fled after Caesar defeated him decisively the last time. He needed to chase after the fat bastard, either try to convert him to his cause to get all his supporters on his side … or just kill him and be done with it if he was not to be reasoned with.
But the decision was taken out of his hands at the hands of the Egyptians, who decided to kill him themselves and serve his head to Caesar like they were doing him a favour. Such insolence almost made Caesar throw up. So, yes, this trip down to the land of pharaohs was less than pleasant for the triumphant Roman general and obviously, there was this whole riot thing going on. Basically, he was trapped in the Egyptian royal palace with only a few thousand men he brought to capture Pompey as soon as possible.
The wine had helped. Only a bit. The rest of his sanity was held together by another thing. An unlikely companion.
“You really tend to repeat some of these words to the point of nausea, my love.”
Caesar turned his head back to the king-sized bed he shared with the woman who was currently laying on it with a roughly held together pack of sheets in her hands. It wasn’t quite a book yet, but a simple first draft.
“I think the quality of content you express there is just exquisite, Caesar, but can do with a better presentation, perhaps? Latin’s not even my first language but some of those grammar issues really stick out to me. Come to bed, my love, we can go over every single one of them.”
Caesar found his hand shaking for a bit as it left the goblet full of wine.
“Cleo, we’ve been trapped here for 2 months now. Do forgive me if the grammar of my next book about the civil war is not the best. I enjoy your company but I’m afraid I won’t be able to publish it if we perish here.”
Cleopatra gave her lover a coy smile after that. If that smirk was the only thing you’d seen from her, then it would be very easy to flanderize her in history as this hot and seductive Egyptian woman who only relied on her good looks to get his way but for Caesar, it was far from the truth. Cleopatra was like an equal to him, a smart and cultured woman. Like a proper Roman who just happened to be born to an Egyptian dynasty.
Then again, her father was smart enough to ally himself to the Romans. The gold and the protection of Rome allowed Cleopatra to grow up as a princess. She knew where the true power laid so she sought him out even in these desperate times.
“We will prevail, my Caesar,” she proclaimed. “My little brother is a fool. His advisors are only a tad smarter than him, but even then, they have no royal blood inside them.”
“Woman, you are far too smart to not know how dreadful the circumstances are for us. Yet, you came to my chambers smuggling yourself during this siege.”
Her smile turned into a giggle.
“Well, yes. I came here knowing the situation and now I remain here willingly. By your side.”
“Because I am your only bet at the crown. Nobody outside of me will support you against your brother and your sister.”
“You get it, my Caesar.” she laughed, once again petting the bed and inviting the Roman to join her.
“But there’s so much more than that. I came to you during your darkest hour, my love. I came here when you needed me as much as I needed you. You needed a legitimate reason to be in this needless conflict. Backing me is your way into holding a stake in my empire. Backing you is my way to secure a crown.”
Caesar got up from the seat, but he hadn't settled on the bed yet. His forehead and his forearms were pressing against the wall.
“It’s all worthless as long as we remain trapped here. I want to get out, I want to cut through every single person in my path and I want to enjoy the river Nile with you, Cleo.”
“What you’re yet to understand is that … we don’t have any other choice than winning.”
“Yet, knowing this, you still came to me.”
“Because you know that your only option is winning as well. You can’t squander a glorious civil war victory in some palace chambers in Alexandria. You have to get away. From the tales of your life that you’d told me for the last 2 months, then my Caesar is someone who finds a way no matter what. He’s someone who fights back when he’s faced with adversity. I wanted the stakes to be as high as possible for us, my love. I wanted our odds to be low. Because that’s when people like you and me shine.”
As for Caesar, he found himself speechless. It wasn’t for long before he threw himself at the bed. Soon, his head was laying on Cleopatra’s lap.
“I’ll start planning a naval invasion for Pharos Island tomorrow. We have to be pro-active and get out of this lockdown.”
His resolve earned him a kiss on the cheek.
“Now, that’s the Caesar I know.”
“I’ll tell Antony to be prepared for the worst just in case.”
“So, Antony is the man who would replace you if you were to die right now, right?”
“Well, I suppose you can say that. Why do you ask, though?”
Another coy smile formed upon her lips. A smile Caesar did not like in the slightest.“Nothing.”. . . VI.Even if you go as far to isolate my military accomplishments from this whole deathmatch ordeal, experience still remained my trump card. It was true that Reagan Cole, one of my opponents in the tournament, was being mentored by that Jeffry Mason character, who had not only seen his fair share of deathmatches, but was so warped by them to even advocate for such barbarity. It was true that the tournament included some repeat competitors from the last year like XYZ or even the finalist Kleio Dos Santos. I have made all my points about Alyster Black’s prowess through this entire book. The competition also included other mystery entrants whose levels of experience in deathmatches I did not know.
None of that mattered. I was still the most experienced going into King of the Deathmatch.
To make it clear, I wasn’t the most experienced in deathmatches. I wasn’t even the most experienced in matches either, most of my opponents had longer wrestling careers in general.
However, I was and still am very experienced in one thing that none of my opponents could claim they’ve even experienced once before, even to this day.
I’d died before.
I’ve faced it. I know what it means to die. I know how you can’t do anything but gasp after you get stabbed as your breath leaves your body, for the first knife has taken it away from you. I know if the legend of your life flashing before your very eyes is true or not. I had a long life, I will never tell. I know how it feels to meet your end as different blades held by different traitors enter your dying body. I know how it feels to be killed at the hands of the person you would least expect it.
No amount of light tubes, barbed wire, sticks or blood may faze me ever again, for I have already met the end of that particular pipeline before. No other person who would face me in the tournament would claim that.
That’s why I knew I had the biggest advantage of them all.
In the play he wrote about me, Shakespeare attributes me with a line that I hadn’t said historically. The final words of his Caesar as he falls to the ground dying. As for me, before I went into that desert, I modified it a bit and repeated it to myself.
Then rise, Caesar.. . . Stu was about to start the seventh chapter, of which the first sentences suggested that Caesar had finally started writing about the actual tournament itself but before the big man could get to the lines that revealed the Roman’s first round opponent, a voice interrupted his immersive reading session. “You’re enjoying the read, big guy?”The calm but still proud voice of the Roman had brought a smile upon the giant’s face. He put the book down on the table before his big body slowly shifted towards his friend who had just came home. “How did the meeting go with Luke's teacher?” asked Stu. The very small figure of Lucius Mehmed Caesar went behind his dad, running towards some other part of the house. “They didn’t have the resources for a full triumph so they decided to schedule a pizza party for the whole class instead. Which makes sense, I guess, a kindergarten can’t afford parading war elephants or paintings that depict Lucius’ gold star-winning deeds by the greatest painters of the time. ”
“Sounds good. Pizza should fit well with your Roman heritage, I think,” said Stu, though he definitely did not expect Caesar to frown at this suggestion. “I feel like I have to tell you this on a regular basis, Stu, but pizza wasn’t a thing in Rome. We didn’t even have tomatoes!”
“That sounds like a shame.”Caesar didn’t say anything to that for a moment as he looked around for a bit to locate his son. More footsteps were in the house now. “Anyway, did you watch the finals, Stu?” asked Caesar. “Who won? Please don’t tell me it was Freaky Feline’s Eyes, I hate those bastards”Stu only shook his head to that. “Oh, alright. I figured something like this would happen so I told the television to record it beforehand.”
“These things can record while off now?” exclaimed Stu. It just felt like yesterday when Betamax was supposed to be the state of the art in technology. “It’s the year of our Lord Jupiter, 2033, Stu. I’d be more surprised if they didn’t.”Caesar came down the short stairs as he prepared to open the television and start watching the recording. It got interrupted when Stu asked him another question. “Uhm … Caesar … can I ask you this one thing?”
“Yeah, Stu, anything.”
“Was Cleopatra’s throat game as good as you wrote in the book?”It looked like al lcolour had left Caesar’s face upon that question. Stu raised an eyebrow just before a feminine voice boomed from upstairs. “HE WROTE WHAT?”
“Zehra, I can explain! Please don't go all Hecate on m-” |
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Post by supinesnake on May 28, 2024 21:05:23 GMT
Originally posted by SJW. It’s a bitter night at the tail end of February. It didn’t start bitter, of course. Few things ever do. Outside of certain natural chemicals or ingredients, bitterness is an affliction gained over time. It often starts off sweet, or at the very least, benign. Then over time, the acidic taste sets in. The resentment sinks down to the bone. The antipathy becomes one with the canvas, and soon the colors of the painting become sullen. It’s a process, one that is rarely instantaneous, but once it starts to spread, it’s difficult to remove before it becomes the key component of a meal. The driving factor of a night. Or, perhaps, the defining trait of a human being. In the evening of this night, the door to a restaurant is kicked open, the wooden frame very nearly denting from its hinges. From within, storming like the ground had taken a particular offense against her, was a woman - Pale, slim, with the kind of expression that would cause exit wounds. Her vibrant, bright green mohawk quickly vanished as she tugged on a black beanie, pushing through a small crowd on the sidewalk with a snarl. A black jacket that seemed a size too big for her hung off her shoulders, one she didn’t even realize she was still wearing as she shoved aside a particular surprised man. “Hey, watch wh-” The man began, the kind of man who would stick his hand into a tiger’s enclosure to get a better photo of the wild carnivore without any consideration for how many fingers he might lose. The description was apt, as he only got two and a half words from his indignant remark before the woman swiveled on a heel and barked, her teeth dangerously close to the aforementioned fingers. “Fuck off!” She snapped, with a tone so caustic the man felt himself turn sterile. “Piece of shit, telling me to watch where I’m going, fuck right off! How about you watch your back, never know who you’ll piss off next because fuck knows you’ve got a talent for it, you fucking… Fucking…”The woman’s irate response tapering off was not for a loss of words, surely so. Anyone who has even shared an elevator with this vulgar lout can attest that her tirades, colorful as they are, could literally last for days. And yet, she felt herself lose track, as the door to the restaurant was pushed open. She fell silent, in hopes, in expectation, that a certain someone would step out, would follow, would chase after her and offer an explanation, a clarification, a reasoning for the lack of communication. Anything. In her tense state, she would doubtlessly dismiss it, turn on him and unload another profanity-laden earful. But the gesture, the attempt to ease the open wounds before bitterness sunk in, that would’ve meant something. Regret. Guilt. Acknowledgement that his own fuckup had driven her away. It would’ve meant that, beyond saving his own ass, saving this friendship meant something to him. Maybe, just maybe, even after unloading the mother of all rants against him, she might’ve heard him out. Because maybe this relationship meant something to her, too. Otherwise, why would she hesitate, why would she wait at the possible implication that he was chasing after her, ready to shame-facedly admit that he didn’t have the fucking balls to keep her up to speed? Why else would she have felt her heart sink as someone else stepped through the door, swaying, before vomiting in the bushes? The door swung shut, and with it, came the realization. Alyster Black wasn’t coming after her. “You fucking FUCKER.”With a growl, Violet Dreyer whirled, this time taking care to stomp on the foot of the man who had spoken up previously. She marched down the sidewalk, hands clenched, as she wiped away a tear she would deny ever existed. Underneath a sea of gray clouds, the evening grew dark and bitter. In a way, maybe it was never going to be anything else. -=-=-=- When Krash had vanished, Violet felt herself begin to withdraw from FWA. Krash was her advocate. Her advisor. As much as she often ignored or did the opposite of his advice out of sheer spite, the fact is that Krash was her best chance of getting her foot into the door in FWA. Without him, it was a pipe dream, once again. Sure, Alyster could vouch for her. Give her clearance to go backstage, mingle with the crew (including a particularly annoying Jackson Fenix) and, if there was space on the card, appear as an impromptu guest wrestler. Her appearance in a recent Battle Royal was pure happenstance, something she managed to participate in simply because anyone in the back was liable to. Despite a stronger-than-expected showing, despite her assumption that she performed well enough that FWA Officials would slide a contract over or at the very least give her a phone call, she was shown the door just like any other night. Alyster couldn’t open the same doors Krash did. Alyster couldn’t ensure she’d get something of a spotlight the same way Krash did. What Alyster could do, is drag her into his spat with Danny Toner and have her concussed to shit by a spiteful gutterfuck with barely a thank you. On one hand, she expected as much - Alyster was never the kind of person to put on a professional smile, sit down with a suit, and do business. No. He was brash, he was vulgar, he didn’t play nice and he certainly didn’t wear a suit. He was too much like her, and she was too much like him. Maybe that was the worst part of the entire situation. So, after seeing the writing on the wall, she quietly began rejecting Alyster’s offers of a backstage pass. It was never going to lead to an offer for a contract, so what was the point? Best to leave before it gets pathetic and find another way to fame and fortune. Build her name on the - hurk - indies so FWA eventually has to take notice, or sign with a company that would actually appreciate her god-gifted talents. CDW might’ve been a good start, or LCW, even. Hell, Ground Zero is a direct pipeline to FWA. But those all carried the same baggage, in that they were tangibly related to FWA, and if FWA hadn’t called her by now they certainly weren’t going to just because she appeared in a sister promotion. No. It still would’ve been her, begging for scraps of attention, while FWA rolled their eyes and pretended to read the news. It still would’ve been pitiful. No, she needed a clean break. Therefore, she stopped accepting the backstage passes, and stopped watching FWA altogether. A part of her felt she should’ve, if only to keep supporting Alyster during his world title run, but he didn’t need her. He didn’t need her support, he was like a runaway train - he was going to speed up and derail regardless of whether she was cheerleading him on or not. So she didn’t. Right up until that fateful night inside Dazzling Dave’s restaurant, Violet Dreyer had been blissfully ignorant to everything that had happened in FWA over the past few months. She didn’t know that Alyster had lost the world title to midlife crisis Devin Golden. She didn’t know that Devin Golden had, in turn, lost the world title to Chris Thimblecock or whatever his name was. And she certainly didn’t know that that Krash had: A) Returned in a kinda-alive capacity, and B) Been immediately attacked and taken captive by Jeremy Best & Bryan Baxter, more on one than the other, but regardless. She didn’t know, but Alyster did. He knew. Motherfucker, he knew. He knew all along and never said a word. That fucker. The second she got back to her shitty hotel room, she booted up her equally shitty laptop, paid the subscription fee for access to the FWA Network, and set to familiarizing herself with everything that had happened within FWA over the past few months. Not just the Krash, Jeremy, or Alyster segments, but everything. From the TV title being bounced back and forth between a Fox News patsy who looked like they just got a neck tattoo removed to a masked nimrod with more self-esteem issues than a clown at an adults party, to the arrival of perhaps the only woman more of a malformed childish airhead than Lizzie Rose herself. To the debuts of a new wave of fresh talent, all of whom she didn’t bother to remember their names - except for Weaselperson, because holy shit, she wouldn’t be able to forget Weaselperson if she had six more concussions. Even the entire Ratin Mikichin vs Steve the Techno Vampire series didn’t escape her viewing - though she oddly found it compelling in a way that she couldn’t quite explain. It took pretty much an entire night of watching to catch up on things, and when she finally got to the big reveal at Back In Town, she felt her veins burn. The initial sight of her long-lost mentor, even if mentor probably wasn’t the best word for it, caused her lungs to stop working for a brief moment. He looked so pale, so thin, so ragged. He looked less like a man and more like a carcass that had been left out on the road for vultures to peck at. What the fuck happened to him? Her first feeling was a sense of guilt, or something akin to it. Sure, she didn’t blame herself for the whole spat Krash found himself in with Randy Ramon - them duking it out was going to happen regardless of whether she took $20 bucks to preface it or not. But maybe she could’ve prevented things from going too far, stopped them from sinking into the lake, never to resurface. That brief feeling was quickly dismissed. She knew damn well she would not have stopped anything. If nothing else, she would’ve egged them on through the entire brawl, even as they sunk into the dark waters. The next feeling she felt was a deep, burning anger. It didn’t take a doctor, or a medical professional, or even a vet to see that the Krash Bryan Baxter had dragged to the ring was pretty much a canary in a coal mine. The lights were on but who the fuck was home? Physically, mentally, and psychologically, the Krash before them was a husk. A shell. A wreck of a man who only by the slimmest of margins could be described as the man she once knew. So, why the hell did no-one step in to stop this? Why the fuck did the entire locker room sit backstage and do absolutely nothing, as Bryan Baxter beat the shit out of a borderline comatose Krash? As Jeremy Best cooed and crowed and kidnapped the guy, and only looked upset about it because it wasn’t the same guy he was expecting? Where was anyone?!? She slammed the laptop shut with a huff. Sure, she knew that the list of enemies and rivals Krash had made through his career was a long, endless one, despite his insistence on otherwise. She had a front row seat to witness Krash’s very first enemy and what he did to ensure they never crossed paths with him again, long before he popped up in FWA, CWA, APW, or even OWW, and she was pretty sure only a handful of people alive even knew about it. But still, she expected at least a token effort by someone, at the very least the usual crowd of pointless suits and officials when brawl breaks out to break it up. The fact that he didn’t even get that as the bare minimum turned her knuckles white in anger. Violet pushed the laptop back open, a rushed plan forming in her mind as she scanned for the next FWA event. Steel City, in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, in a few weeks’ time. Jeremy Best was advertised for the event, which meant he’d be in the arena. Which meant she could strangle the two-faced fuck until he spilled the beans on where Krash was now, or until her hands grew numb, whichever happened first. And if she ran into Alyster while there, then fuck it, she’s got two hands. She can multitask. -=-=-=- It’s the midpoint of March. The weather in Pittsburgh sucked just as much as it did in New York. She wrapped the black jacket around herself tighter as she stepped out of her shitty rental, in the parking lot of the PPG Paints Arena. Oh, the jacket? If Violet had any idea about the significance of the jacket, how much it meant to someone, or how much it didn’t mean to another someone, she likely would’ve burned it and thrown the scraps into the dumpster out of spite. Instead, to her, it was just a jacket. A jacket that was a touch too big, but it had some sizable pockets, so it’d do for now. It had no real meaning, no significance to her. Just another article of clothing. In a way, that might be more of an insult - to burn or desecrate it would be acknowledging that it held some kind of meaning to someone. It meant that the jacket meant something, enough to make a show out of destroying it. As it stood now, treating it with the same kind of affinity one would for any other article of clothing probably hurt its former recipient more than pissing on it would. Of course, that was assuming Violet was being obtuse on purpose, for a point, and not that she was being obtuse because that’s who she naturally was. Regardless. Violet stepped up to the performer’s entry point of the arena, a hand in her jacket, idly thumbing a pair of brass knuckles. All she really needed was a few minutes with Jeremy, and she’d be on her way without watching the show. She had experience with enough bloody brawls to make a bitch cry, after all. Suddenly, a hand appeared in front of her, halting her progress before the entry gate. Attached to the beefy hand was an equally beefy security guard, a thick musclehead who looked like the kind of person who had steroids every day for breakfast, then wondered why their balls were so tiny. “Authorized personnel only.” Beefy McMancake grunted, crossing his arms. That probably wasn’t his name but it’s the one we’re sticking with. Violet huffed. “Step aside, shitbrick, I’m authorized as fuck.” She boasted, puffing her chest out. “Check your list for Violet Dreyer, I probably have a backstage pass waitin’ for me.”Beefy McMancake stared at her, squinting behind a pair of cheap sunglasses. “You’re not on the list. Beat it.”
“Motherfucker, check the list, I’m there.”Beefy let out a grumble, before making a show out of glancing at his clipboard. He slowly ticked his way through it, occasionally pausing to glance at an increasingly irate Violet. He licked a finger, and flipped the clipboard over to the next page. “What are you, illiterate?” Violet barked, tapping a toe impatiently. “Would you be quicker if you had a Dr. Suess book instead of a list? If we were on a boat I’d be on this list, if we were on a moat I’d be on this list, if we were on a goat, do you catch my drift? Hurry the fuck up, I have shit to do.”
“Name please.” Beefy grunted. “For fuck’s sake. Violet Fucking Dreyer. I’m a godamned icon, do you have any idea who the fuck you’re holding up? I know people, I’ll ruin you, you hear me? I’ll make it so you’ll be spending the rest of your days picking up trash on the side of the road. Step the fuck aside and let me in!”Beefy mumbled something incoherent. “Mmmhm. Violet… Dreyer, did you say?”
“Yes! Finally, about fucking time, now if you’ll excuse me, I-”
“You’re not on the list.”Violet’s left eye twitched in anger. “What?!?”
“You’re not on the list. You’re not getting in.” Beefy rumbled, in his toneless voice. “Come the fuck on! There has to be some kind of mistake, Alyster always leaves passes for…” She trailed off, coming to the realization that she had stopped taking those passes long ago. It only made sense that Alyster would eventually stop granting them, even moreso after their recent spat, the self-pitying shitbag. “Oh, fuck me!” She spat, kicking a rock. The entire basis of her plan hinged on getting inside the arena, so she could corner Jeremy Best and show him how far someone can jab a toothpick under his fingernails. She really should’ve had a plan B to get inside. Beefy McMancake coughed. “I’m going to have to ask you to please leave the arena.”
“No, look, I’m supposed to be here, I swear! I need to-”
“Ma’am,” Beefy continued. “Please leave the arena or we will be forced to use physicality.”
“Ha! You and what army?!?”Beefy snapped his fingers. Almost instantaneously, two equally beefy security guards sauntered up next to him. One of them appeared to be chewing on a hunk of concrete. “Oh fuck that’s an army.” Violet faltered. “Look, I just-”She cut herself off, as just over the shoulder of one of the beefy security guards, she spied a figure walking past the hallway. A figure dressed entirely in black, save for a few green accents. “Alyster.” She whispered, daring to feel hopeful. She jabbed a finger in his general direction, rising on her toes. “That’s the guy, that’s my hookup! Ask him! He’ll vouch for me! He always fucking does, just- JUST ASK HIM GODAMIT!”The trio of beef, as one, shook their heads. The middle one, Beefy, might’ve said something, but Violet didn’t hear it. She was too focused on Alyster, turning his head at the sound of her voice. Not enough to face her, but enough to show that he heard her. “Alyster, tell these fucking goombas! Tell them I’m supposed to be here!” She shouted. More heads turned, yet Alyster himself refrained from turning the full view to face her. “Come on, fuckwit! Say something, do something!”Alyster didn’t move, seemingly battling with himself… … before turning in the opposite direction and walking away. Violet felt her blood burn. “You piece of- You fucking coward!” She spat, storming forward. “Can’t face your fuckups, huh?!? Yeah, go on, you run away, just like you always d- HEY!”Her trade was interrupted as middle beef caught her attempting to step inside, and slung her over his shoulder. “That’s enough of that. Out you go.”
“Oi! Put me down!” Violet shrieked, ineffectively beating her fists on the back of Beefy as she was carried away from the arena. “Godamnit! Let me go! Alyster!”Her cries fell on unhearing ears, as Alyster vanished around a corner. She didn’t know why she was surprised. If he wasn’t going to help before, he wasn’t going to now. But still, that cemented the fact - it was up to her, to make that bitch Jeremy eat his hair. “Fine, you do your thing, selfish prick!” She cried out, shaking a fist in the direction Alyster vanished. “Don’t let the lives of your fucking friends inconvenience you! You don’t want to help save the guy who would kill for you, then fine, be my guest! But if you get in my way when I’m fucking up Jeremy, I’ll fuck you up so badly you’ll need a new mask to put over your old mask! Do you hear me? DO YOU HEAR ME, ALYSTER?!? Fucking asshole.” She hissed, kicking impotently. “Put me down, I got some kidneys to stab! Syringehead, drop me or I’ll fuckin’ drop you!”
“Unlikely.” Beefy McMancake grunted. It’s unlikely that Alyster heard the full tirade. However, as she was being carried away, one person did, infact, hear the full tirade. They heard the tirade, and chuckled to themselves. And suddenly Beefy McMancake stopped, pressing a finger against his earpiece. “Come again?” He said, a shadow of confusion on his features. “Yeah, she’s here.”Violet temporarily halted her ineffective flailing. “What? Is that about me? Yeah, you’re letting me in, I fuckin’ knew it, put me down and I’ll-”
“Uh-huh, ugly green mohawk, that’s her. Said her name was…” Beefy squinted at Violet, trying and failing to recall the name of this unimportant person he had only just met. “... Lavender?”
“Violet, you fucking cret-”
“Violet, yeah, that.” Beefy paused. Beside him, the other two beefcakes exchanged glances, and shrugged. “You sure about that? She’s not on the list.”There was another long pause, before Beefy placed Violet back on the ground like a sack of potatoes. “Alright. I’ll bring her in.”Violet climbed to her feet, wiping her legs. “About fuckin’ time! Point me towards Jeremy Best’s locker room and I’ll make it quick and bloodless-”
“Not quite.” Beefy shook his head, and held a hand out. “Someone wants to see you. Would you like to follow me for a minute?”
“Fuck no, I’d rather drink bleach.”
“Would you rather me carry you?”
“I’d still rather drink bleach.”
“Let’s compromise.” Beefy said, before grabbing her by the wrist and dragging her into the arena, down the hall. Despite digging in her heels, Violet rapidly gave up, unable to break Beefy’s grip, and instead went limp, staring at the ceiling instead. “Who’re you taking me to?” She listlessly demanded. Beefy paused before a firm, wooden door. “Who do you think?” He asked, before pushing it open and shoving her inside. “Got her here, boss.” The door closed behind him. Violet massaged her wrist, scowling, before turning to face whoever had asked that she be brought in. A short, bald man wearing the ugliest suit imaginable sat beaming at her, hands splayed across a rich, mahogany desk. A portrait of himself in a slightly less uglier suit took up the entirety of the wall behind him. He motioned to an empty chair in front of his desk, before bending to pick up something out of his drawer, setting a nameplate on his desk. - JON RUSSNOW -
FANTASY WRESTLING ALLIANCE AUTHORITY FIGURE
- KNOWS BETTER THAN YOU DO -
“Ah, piss.”
“Hello, Violet.” Jon Russnow greeted, with his predatory grin. “Been a while, hasn’t it?”Violet shrugged uneasily. “I guess?”
“Of course you guess. Take a seat.” He gestured again to the chair in front of him, with a touch more insistence than before. “The fuck is this about, Russnow?”Rather than answer, Jon Russnow instead smiled placidly, reaching into his drawer and pulling out a pen and some paper. “Take a seat and I’ll be right with you.” And he began reading through the paper, making some corrections with his pen, while he waited for Violet to sit down. Hesitant, Violet glanced at the door. She could probably sprint to Jeremy’s locker room and stab him three times, maybe four if she didn’t bother aiming for non-vital areas, before Beefy and his cronies could grab her. But that would require knowing exactly where Jeremy’s locker room was, and assuming that Jeremy was in there right now. She couldn’t count on either of those things. So instead, she sat herself down on the chair, a chair so uncomfortable she felt her morale take a hit. Russnow glanced at her, before adjusting his office chair so that he was taller. “Heard about your little tirade, Violet.”
“Yeah?”
“Mmm. Might have a… Proposition for you.” Russnow turned the paper around, and slid it over to Violet. “You’re a sketchy guy and you creep me out.” Violet said, before glancing at the paper. “I don’t know what the fuck your deal is, but I don’t want any…”Her words died in her throat as her eyes widened, scanning the header text on the document before her. She gaped, words failing her as she picked up the paper. “I… Is this-”
“A FWA Contract, Violet.” Russnow confirmed, twirling his pen between his fingers. “Only for the upcoming King of the Deathmatch event.”Violet’s eyes went from the contract, to Russnow, then back to the contract. “Are you fucking with me?”Russnow shook his head, and merely handed the pen over. Violet snatched it from his grasp, hovering it over the signature area. This was it. This was what she had always wanted. Right? A FWA contract. The chance to make it big, earn the big money, and ensure the family name finally had something of value. Sure, it was a temporary contract, but if she managed to win the entire King of the Deathmatch tournament, then they’ve HAVE to sign her on to a lengthier, long-term contract, right? It’s not just the Crown of Thorns on the line, but the X Championship, too. One was a status symbol, the other an accolade, together they were money. It would be a repeat of Thomas West’s ascension last year - unsigned talent wins the big one and gets their name plastered all throughout the show. If Thomas West can do it then surely Violet Fucking Dreyer can do it too. She knew she could do it. Never short on confidence, she knew that whoever else was in the field, she could fuck them up. Who else had as much to gain as her? As far as she could tell, anyone else who blew this shot would be able to arrive on Fallout or Meltdown next week and move on with whatever feud was waiting for them. The only thing waiting for Violet if she blew this shot was an empty hotel room. The pen quivered in her grasp. It’s what she’s always wanted. So why was she so hesitant to sign? Violet raised her head, and stared at Russnow. If something was too good to be true, it probably was, after all. Not to be blinded by the glitz, she focused on the glamor, and gently set the paper back down on the desk, unsigned. “What’s the catch, cueball?”Jon Russnow seemed mildly offended, which was exactly what she was hoping for. He breathed a sigh, rolling his eyes, before leaning forward. “I like to think of myself as a… Visionary, when it comes to ideas, Violet. King of the Deathmatch, Tag Warz, the Bounty-”
“You came up with the Bounty? Dude, that was a fucking terrible idea. I wouldn’t even put that on my worst enemies resume.”Russnow fixed her with a glare. The impotent kind that didn’t really do much. “Be that as it may, Violet, I am constantly looking for ways to… One-up myself, as it were. King of the Deathmatch last year was good, great even. But how can I make it better? Sure, I can guarantee more of the violence from the previous edition, but ultimately it’s up to the combatants to provide such violence. What I can provide, however… Is drama.”Violet frowned. “Drama?” She repeated. There was a sour taste in the back of her throat, one that she attempted to ignore for the time being. Russnow nodded. “Nothing milks money quite like drama, Violet. This year’s King of the Deathmatch has your… Friend… Alyster Black, as a central figure, and whoever wins the tournament, wins his treasured X Championship. Therefore, logically, it’s likely that whoever wins the tournament will clash with the guy at some point, and I feel… Well… Given your and Alyster’s… History…”
“Ah.” Violet grimaced. “I think I can see where this is going.”Russnow shrugged. “I’m sure if you’re not interested, we can find someone else to fill the spot. No shortage of people waiting to break out and all.” He reached over the desk, a finger brushing the contract--before Violet pulled it back. “Hold on! Hold the fuck on, I didn’t say no!”
“You also haven't said yes.” Russnow echoed. “I’m giving you a lifeline of an opportunity here, Violet. The exact thing you've been begging for for years, more or less. And all I ask is that if you just so happen to run into Alyster Black during the event, well… Don’t make your tirade from earlier out to be nothing.”Violet bit her lip, glancing back at the contract. She knew when she was being used, to add petty drama to the event, and normally she would be all for petty drama. The fact that said drama was against Alyster didn’t mean much to her… Right? Right. Of course. Alyster didn’t give two shits about her, so she didn’t give two shits in return. He would absolutely make her taste metal, no doubt. Only fair to return the favor. That sour taste in her throat intensified, before she forced it back. “What about Jeremy Best? Is that chucklefuck in the tourney too?” She instead asked, trying to get back on why she was here in the first place. “I’m not here for Alyster, I’m here for that slimy parasitic fuck.”
“I can’t confirm or deny that, Violet. I mean, with eight mystery entrants, chances are he might be included… Or he might not. My hands are tied.” He raised his hands, demonstrating that they clearly were not tied. Violet squeezed the pen in her grasp, staring back at the contract. “And if I win, this’ll… This’ll be extended, right?”
“Can’t have an X Champion not under contract, that’s just shoddy business.” Russnow agreed. “You’ll be FWA Superstar, Violet Dreyer. Your name can be on the marquee, your image can be plastered across the arenas. You can be that famous, successful wrestler you’ve always wanted to be, but was never able to become.”Violet breathed, a bead of sweat dripping down the back of her neck, before fixing Russnow with a steely gaze. “I have one demand.”Russnow quirked an eyebrow. “You are far from any position to make demands… But I’ll hear you out.”
“I want Jeremy Best.” Violet demanded, punctuating with a jabbed pen on the paper. “Doesn’t have to be in this tournament, doesn’t have to be in a match. I want him delivered to me on a cold fucking platter, so I can beat that piglet until he squeals. If you, if Alyster, if no-one else in this shithole is going to, then I’ll rip his fingernails off and shove them in that saccharine fuck’s eyes until he tells me what he’s done to Krash.”Russnow frowned at the mental image, tapping a finger against the desk. “So, so far from any position, to make demands.” He quietly repeated. “Are you really willing to possibly throw this shot I'm giving you away, shove your entire dream in the trash, if you don't get your hands on Jeremy Best? Just to possible help out this... Mentor of yours, who as far as I can tell got exactly what he deserved, more or less? And here I thought I had you figured out. I'm having second thoughts - maybe you’re not worth the trouble.”Violet remained still, forcing her stare to remain even, despite a chill going across the back of her spine. Russnow returned the stare, a cold stalemate between them, as the clock ticked over. After what felt like an eternity, Russnow cracked a smirk. “But I’ll make you a deal. Whatever you do to Alyster Black during this event… I’ll let you do to Jeremy Best at a later date. No handcuffs. No restrictions. Do to Alyster what you’ll want done to Jeremy, deliver the drama I desire, and I’ll see that you have an opportunity to deliver. How does that sound?”Violet fell silent, contemplating. Even as she tried to do the right thing, for one point in her life, fate always seemed to conspire to have her take the dirtiest route possible to get there. Her career and Krash’s health, vs Alyster’s reign. Was it really that tough of a call? Alyster would bounce back, surely. He had Chris to fall back on, and doubtlessly he’d be lined up for more chances down the line to do whatever. Can’t say the same for her, and can’t say anything at all for Krash, considering. And yet, she couldn’t deny that there was a part of her that reveled in fucking Alyster’s world up. Call it an even deal for his antics landing her in the hospital. Call it fair coming for him doing absolutely nothing to help Krash. Call it well-deserved for being such a piece of shit that he wouldn’t even tell her that Krash was alive. So what if she was possibly burning a friendship by agreeing to this contract on behalf of a petty blowhard who was drama fishing. It’s not like there was any friendship here left to burn, anyway. With an exhale, she put the pen to the contract, and signed. People aren’t born bitter. They're made bitter, through the course of events in their life not going according to plan. A bitter person is a person who has had their hopes, dreams, and trust shattered, time and time again, until only bitterness remains. And when bitterness is all a person has left, when the poison inside of them matches the poison outside of them, then one day they'll look at themselves in a mirror, and wonder if it could've ever been anything else. |
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Post by supinesnake on May 28, 2024 21:05:54 GMT
Originally posted by AON. A Stormy night.
An unkempt graveyard.
A headstone that illustrates the name on it
Yuna. Saya. Funanori.
1994-2022.
Death is but the next great adventure.
---------------
Prologue
This world is a divided place, and our differences are only getting bigger often; times, social media is a breeding ground to foster those differences and cause more and more violent reactions by evil forces that wish to see this world become a worldwide war zone, despite all that there are still some sacred grounds. Some things in this life are untouching. No matter who you are and where you come from, some things are undisputed.
Zoos.
Zoos are freaking awesome.
At least that's what everyone in San Diego Zoo believed as they strolled around happy as can be, saying hello to various animals with big ol' friendly smiles on their faces because it is physically impossible to be in a bad mood while at a zoo. Seriously, try it. Try and be sad at a zoo; you can't do it. Especially today, you know why? It's Birds greeting day! A bunch of people are in the parrot pen, happily feeding and petting various pigeons, swallows and..even parrots. Just a typical day at the zoo, observed by two Zoo keepers to the side of the enclosure
"-And then the sea captain said, "I would eat the bacon, but my underpants are on my head!"
Zookeeper number one tosses back his head and laughs uproariously while his zoo companion looks on, bemused.
"Don't you get it, man?"
"Not really, no..."
"What are you talking about?! That's like the funniest joke I've ever heard."
"What I'm I talking about?! What are YOU talking about?!" You literally just walked up beside me and, with no prompt whatsoever, said; "...and then the sea captain said, "I would eat the bacon, but the underpants are on my head and just started laughing."
"Oh, did I do that thing where I skip the set-up to the joke and go right to the punchline?"
"I'm pretty sure, yeah."
"Damn, I'm sorry, it's just I find jokes so exciting I can't wait to get to the best part; it's the same reason why I can't read a book, I always have to skip to the end, and THEN I read the rest of the book so the entire time I'm like "Oh, don't trust him, he's clearly a mur-diddlyerde-rer!"
"You're a weird guy, Larry."
"My mom likes to call me quirky."
An awkward silence ensues.
"Man, the people really love those birds, huh."
"Yep, and the birds love them."
"Well, not that one in the corner..."
"What one?"
"The big red and white one just kind of hunched over and staring at the ground."
"Ohhhhhh, that one. Yeah, he's kind of a tricky one..."
"What do you mean?"
"Animal services caught him about a year ago, and I do mean CAUGHT him; it seems like it was more of a battle than anything else; the story goes it took about nine of the animal service's finest to bring him down, not before he sent some to the hospital with a shit ton of scratches and peck scars."
"Wow, are you sure? he should be around the general public?"
"What? Him? Sure, he was a little bit of a terror at first, but he slowly just kind of got quiet...haven't heard a peep from him all year; he just stands there on his peach, just...staring into space...looking at nothing, like the lights are on, but no one is home.
"Wow, that's really sad."
"I think it has something to do with his previous owner."
"Why, what happened to his owner?"
"Oh, she died."
"Well, that sucks."
"Yeah, she was blown up with dynamite on a pirate ship during a wrestling match."
"Oh..."
"Yeah...."
"....."
"I have several questions about every part of that statement."
"It's probably best not to think about it..."
"Solid advice"
"I guess that parrot just has to realize what dead is dead and where his owner is right now; let's just hope she's at peace."
----------------- I-Denial This is a story about a girl named Yuna. Yuna worked for a big company in a big building where she was employee number 428. Employee number 428's job was simple; She sat at her desk in cubicle 428 and typed out paperwork. Day after day. Month after month. Year after year. This was the only life Yuna had ever known. Office life is a contradiction in terms; life happens everywhere but there. There was something so important to Yuna that she had the most serious-looking briefcase in the office, even if she's had it for years. It was an old and battered briefcase with protruding tongues of leather; its hide had known all weathers and rough treatment enough to scar and mottle it. But Yuna hoped her boss wouldn't notice as she adjusted her tie and her office blazer, making sure she looked somewhat presentable as the man sitting behind the desk looked over various forms that seemed important to someone, somewhere presumingly. "So, Yuna, I see you're applying for that assistant manager position.""Yes, That is correct.""That's wonderful. Please take a seat."Yuna looked around from her standing position in the bare room. "Um, there's no cha-""So tell me, Yuna, what are your qualifications?"
"Well, I have six years of experience in this company and recently completed my master's in business management."
"Have you ever been in a leadership position?"
"Yes, I would often assume managerial positions when the branch manager was out of town."
"That's great, Yuna; now tell me, have you ever stolen company property?"
"Ah...No. Of course not."
"Have you ever poisoned a fellow employee?"
"I-Um...Are you serious?"
"Yes, I'm completely serious; these are questions I have to ask; just answer them honestly."
"No, I have never poisoned a fellow employee."
"Ok, just gotta make a note of that, "No Poison". Wonderful. Okay, let's see here...How are you with customers?"
"I do very well with customers in fac-"
"Have you ever followed one home?
"Um-What?"
"....And waited in their closet until they fell asleep...."
"Um...."
"Yuna, have you ever performed a sacrificial murder on one of our customers?"
"No!"
"Yuno. Uno. Can I call you, Yo-Yo?""I don't-""Have you ever taken a hollowed-out skull and sipped blood from it in the glorious name of Satan?"
"This is-"
"SATANNNNNN!"
"It's-"
"SATAN-!"
"This is kind of ridiculous..."
"You're right; we're getting off track a little here...Where would you like to see yourself in five years?"" ....Are we done with the murder questions?""Yuna, if you don't think you can handle the job, Hey, that's-"
"No, No, No. In five years, I hope to take on more corporate responsibilities, and as the company grows, I will grow personally."
"Have you ever played an organ constructed out of human meat?"
"...What?!"
"A meat organ, Yuna!"
"I don't think that's even possible."
"Yes, it is; I've played one. It sounds terrible."
"This interview isn't going how I imagined it would..."
"If you think that's bad, wait till you wrap your mind around this; I have no butt."
"Excuse me?"
"Yeah, that's right, I have no lower body of any kind; some people may call me a merman."Why are you telling me this?! Is this why you have no chairs in your office?!""Do you believe in ghosts, Yuna?!"
"Umm-"
"Angels?! Vampires?! Tell me, please, are my eyes bleeding? I think blood is dripping from my eyes; please tell me.""I think this interview is spiralling out of control.""Yuna, I need a mermaid for my Merman."
"Ehh-"
"Why did God take my butt? It wasn't a gradual thing, Yuna. My butt just walked off and left.""That's very sad.""Yuna, what would you do in this situation; You poop yourself. Do you go home sick?"
"Ok, you know what, I don't want the job anymore. I'm out of here."Yuna spun on her sensitive yet formal flat top shoes, went for the door, and walked through it...." ....And into the office she just walked out of- "Wha-"
"Escape is quite impossible, Miss Funanori."Ok, this was starting to freak her out, her eyes wide in sudden fear, as the manager just sat there with an amused grin on his face. "What the hell is going on?!"
"Don't be so glib, Yuna; it's not good for company morale. You know exactly where you are and what you're doing here."
"I really don't."
"We started this interview 11 months ago, and I'm just going to keep asking you questions, over and over again and again. And when you're not in this room, you're working yourself to the bone doing inane white-collar work just to get back in here. Because deep, deep down, you want that to be the case. You know you deserve to be under contract for all time!"Yuna had no idea what her work manager was talking about; this insane gibberish clearly meant that he had gone insane; not willing to entertain any more weirdness, she instinctively kicked down the office door and raced off onto the office floor frantically looking for an exit... ...only to stop suddenly, the tension in her body dying to be replaced with a look of slight confusion on her face as another worker walked towards her "Hey, Yuna, you seem like you're in a hurry. Where you're running to?"
"I-I don't remember."She took a moment to collect herself, trying to figure out where she was going, when she absent-mindedly looked at her wristwatch. "Oh my God, is that the time? I have so much paperwork to go through.--------------------------- II-DepressionClack, clack clack went Yuna's fingers, danced around the keypad of her little grey computer as she sat in her little grey cubicle, surrounded by people in their little grey ties, having little grey conversations about their bank loans, eating whine and cheese and how their local sports team is doing while her eyes glazed over staring through the wall barely paying attention to what she was typing- "-You deserve this hell, forever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever-"Her eyes twitched towards the PC clock 9.15?! How was that even possible?! She felt like she had been at her desk for days on end; how had it been just 15 minutes?! She had to agree with that weird orange cat that decorated all the office wall space here; She, too, disliked Mondays. She leaned back slightly, taking a deep breath; she needed a pick me up; that much was obvious; maybe some coffee would help him. Her sweet, bitter, warm brown water... She kicked off out of her chair, forced her weary bones to march forward away from her desk and walked passed the various co-workers talking about their cats, their insurance...the upcoming King of death... Wait, what?! Yuna paused, looking over her shoulder, trying to pinpoint where she heard such an odd phrase. ...But there was no one there. Blinking and rubbing her hair ruefully, she made her way towards the kitchen, picked a mug out of the cupboard, placed it under the coffee maker, and watched it drip. Drip. Drip. Pathetically but after a few seconds, she picked up her now half-full plastic cup... Wait...That wasn't right. She used a coffee mug. She was sure of it, but she was now staring at a plastic cup full of coffee. Confused, she blinked several times at the plastic cup as if trying to will her vision into seeing the mug she actually wanted to use...and yet there it was, solid. Real... "Weird..."Shrugging it off, she walked back down the hallway with a cup in hand as she nearly bumped into fellow workin' stiff Olivier Corsair, "You ready for this meeting?"
"Oh yeah, I just wanted a cup of coffee-"
"...You're holding water."Frowning a little, Yuna looked in her cup. "So I am."----------- III-AngerThe numbers and figures that her friends Oliver and Espinoza flew around Yuna's head, which sounded very complicated and important, but all of that just flew over her head as she stared blankly at her cup (?) of water (?) her entire world was consumed with staring blankly at how the various sound vibrations in the air affected the surface of the water. "Come back Yuna. You need to come back."
"What?"
"Yuna, you're miles away; you need to come back."
"Right yeah...of course, just thinking...""We were talking about the issues we're having.""Yeah, you need to be a pirate again and come back to wrestle."
"....What did you say?"
"I said; the rat issue is getting to be a problem again. You need to 'rastle the situation."
"Oh, right...."
"Are you ok, Yuna? You're kind of away with the fairies these days."
"Sorry Espino ..for the last few days, I kind of been in a bad head space...Have you heard of this thing, The King of The Death Match?"Both Consair and Espinoza share a look with each other, eyebrows raised "A....death...match?"
"That sounds violent."
""It does, yeah, I heard someone say it, and it sounds....important somehow."
"Yuna, I think we have to report you to HR."
"Yeah, you're making us very uncomfortable; this doesn't sound like a conversation suited for the workplace."Yuna looked up in slight alarm and dismay as she looked at the stern faces of the only two people that she considered friends. "But you guys-"
"In fact, this probably is a long overdue conversation."
"You make a lot of people uncomfortable, Yuna...."
"...And quite frankly, your work has been sloppy at best."
"You need to focus more on your productivity and less on daydreams about any death matches or what came before."
"...What you might regret, or might want to come back to do..."
"That part of your life is over. You're here now. You're under contract, and you need to sit at your desk and work and work and work.""You're an adult, and this is what adults do, sit at a desk for eight hours a day for sixty years, making sure someone else gets rich...and when you die, you just get replaced.""That's your life, Yuna. You need to accept it.
"Now that we've established all that...Have you done those TPS Reports?-------- IV-RelapseEveryone knows what you did; they're just holding back to let you torture yourself.
Have a nice day  That legend looms over Yuna's desk in the form of a massive motivational poster superimposed with a massive smiley face that practically screams at her with all manner of overly positive vibes. She had no idea why motivational posters around here got so ominous. Yuna should have been working, most days, she would be without any complaint, but today, she couldn't help but focus on the phrase "King of the death match" where had she heard that phrase before? It was on the tip of her tongue, it was just out of reach and if she could jus- "Got any garbage?""Huh?"Yuna looked up from her daydreaming to see a woman in a custodial jumpsuit, tall and lean with black hair and her posture stuff and frozen, staring dead at Yuna, waiting patiently for the answer. "Oh yeah, sure. Go for it."Barely paying attention to the janitor, Yuna resumed doing what she's done all day... week? Month? Year? She lost all sense of time long ago, staring blankly at the word document in front of her, hoping against hope. Time would somehow pass faster. "You know, I can't help but to gain a certain amount of satisfaction emptying a full garbage can", The janitor mused almost to herself, her voice cutting in effortlessly into Yuna's thoughts as the janitor went about her business. "I would assume most people do, that's why you tend to fill it up to the brim....so you can dump it all out and start filling it up again...but something tells me your bin is bigger than most, isn't it Yuna Funanori?"A slight chill went up and down Yuna's spine as she frowned at the janitor. "...How did you know-"
"Your name? Your hopes and dreams? The darkest nightmares that you spend your life fleeing from in a vain attempt to escape your destiny? Would you believe a lucky guess?"
"....What the hell are you talking about?"Almost despite herself, the janitor couldn't help but let out a slight smile at Yuna's choice of words, but there seemed to be little amusement in the gesture but like a lioness bearing her teeth. "Heh. Hell. Indeed."The janitor leaned up to her full height as she stared down at an increasingly uncomfortable Yuna; the janitor's tone was casual, but there was an otherworldliness to it like every word had a slightly sinister echo to it. "Someone once theorized that hell was other people, but that's a rather stupidly optimistic vision of what's to come. Hell, isn't other people. Hell is yourself. Hell is something you carry around with you. Not somewhere you go. You believe you're in hell; therefore, you are. Hell is oneself. Hell is alone; the other figures in it are merely projections. There is nothing to escape from and nothing to escape to. One is always alone....forever."The janitor wiped a speck of dirt from her uniform as she spoke while Yuna watched on, increasingly uncomfortable and bemused. "Who are you....?"
"I have countless different names in numerous different tongues, some that may drive you insane if you were to hear them, so I shall spare you any of them because this works better if you're lucid. But right now, I'm just a janitor, going about my business, walking my routes, cleaning cells""Cells?""Your soul is forfeit to the darkness and thus is mine to do with as I wish, to cause you to suffer as you truly wish to."
"Ok, you know what? I'm going to report you to human resources. You're making me uncomfortable."Yuna turned around to get back to her computer, most likely to shoot off an e-mail to the hr department about the creepy janitor, only to find there was no computer. No desk. Not even the motivational poster; instead, she came face to face with prison bars and a medieval dungeon's dark, dingy interior. A torture chamber where you could feel the screams of the damned linger in the air. Freaked out, Yuna tried to move once more, only to trip and stumble. She looked down to see manacles tied to her feet and attached to the wall. "Why? I'm merely giving you what you wanted, Yuna. Deep. Deep. Down. I am only a mere servant to the damned, and no one has damned themselves more than you, Yuna Funanori."
"I-I-I don't understand""The life you're currently experiencing is the direct consequence of a choice. A choice you made in your obsession to bring "Fun" to professional wrestling.""Pro-This has something to do with pro wrestling?!"
"....You blew yourself up during a wrestling match with Danny Toner not because you wished to die, but because that was the fate you felt would be the most "FUN" This was the path you walked. Your life's work; To bring Chaos to order. Insanity to logic. To burn down structures and to destroy the power that be....but something went wrong...."
"What?"
"They forgot about you, Yuna. When you were gone, the land was just as it was before you arrived; greed still ruled. The people were still shackled to their own ambition. Fun was still secondary. Your soul couldn't take it, and so here you find yourself in a purgatory created from your worst fears of boring office life and made flesh by me. Now, at last, you will see through the eyes of those you hate the most, no longer looking at those who live a life of compliance from your ivory tower and experience all your hopes and dreams fade and die like the stars in the sky. That is your punishment. That is what you've become. Everything you hate. For all time.
"....Why are you telling me this?"
"Because it's true, and while I normally enjoy watching you go about your day in blissful ignorance. I do enjoy waking you up from time to time and watching you realize who you are and what you've become, to whisper sweet nothings into your ear and dangle the key to salvation in front of you.""King Of The Death Match"There it was again. Those words she had heard before were seemingly from everywhere and nowhere, all at the same time. "Just to remind you, You can never go back."
"...Come back?! To what?! I sound like a psychopath!"
"To some...Maybe...But to others...""She didn't finish the sentence; she didn't feel like there was a need to do so, the janitor simply waited there, hands clasped in front of her, waiting expectedly; the obvious question hung in the air; all that remained was for Yuna to ask it. "....Who was I?"As quick as a flash, The Janitor leaned forward; faster than Yuna could respond, the janitor pressed her finger against the brow of Yuna's forehead; that slight motion might as well have been a bolt of lightning that struck Yuna where she stood. Her entire body pulsed with some kind of strange energy as her mind was overcome with billions of mental images and repressed memories. "THERE BE NO TURNING BACK NOW"
"IT'S A PIRATES LIFE FOR YOU"
"SQUAWK! PATCHES DON'T WANT CRACKERS. PATCHES WANTS THE BLOOD OF THE INNOCENT. SQUAWK!"
"THIS CHICK IS INSANE!"
"IT'S ME, VERY AMERICAN CHERYL!"
"Former Olympian Yuna Funanori!"
"YUNA FUNANORI JUST JUMPED OFF A BALCONY"
"THE PIRATE QUEEN OF WRESTLING..."Yuna's eyes flashed open, and for the first time in a year, she could finally see. She found herself sitting in a hunched-over position in the corner of the room, covered in a cold sweat, eyes frantically checking that, yes, she was back in the room. Not a cell, the office, her eyes wandered to the dress shirt and tie she wore, an expression of numb horror clad on her face. She barely noticed the janitor causally packing away her cart. "Well, I should probably go, so many lost souls...so little time. Don't worry about this; you'll forget everything we've talked about after a while."And with that, the janitor packed away her belongings and walked away without a second look, safe in the knowledge she has broken Yuna for good...which is a shame, really, because if she cared enough to look back over her shoulder, she wouldn't see a broken woman. She'd see Yuna smiling. ------ V-Bargaining Who knew all it took to motivate someone was to reveal their entire working career was a lie? All through that day, Yuna was the perfect little worker bee. She hustled back and forth, carrying papers to and fro, being the model of the phrase "Effectively productive" while humming a merry sea shanty under her breath. "Man, Yuna, you're on fire today!""Arigato Consair!"See, this is what I mean, Yuna; you stopped daydreaming, focusing on what might have been and embraced where you are and where you're going to stay."
"You're absolutely right", Yuna agreed with a smile as she took the tie from around her neck and threw it in a local garbage can. "See, all those still dreams and ambitions were just holding you back an-"
"Do you know where the lighter fluid is?"
"Oh yeah, sure, it's in the cupboard to the left."
"Thanks"Still humming, she got the lighter fluid out of the cupboard and happily started spraying it everywhere around her, the counters, the floor, spinning and skipping almost in place as she did so. "Umm...Yuna?""Yeppers?!""...What are you doing?"
"I'm pouring lighter fluid all over the office."
".....Why?"
"For the fire."And giggling to herself, she struck a match and held it up." "WOAH, WOAH, WOAH, ARE YOU INSANE?!"
"YUNA NOT INSANE. YUNA IS PIRATE!"The big man made a move forward to stop her, but- "DON'T YOU MOVE! TAKE ONE MORE STEP, AND I DROP THE MATCH. I WANT TO TALK TO YOUR BOSS""You know he's a merman and can't move behind his desk."
"Not him. HER."Yuna stopped talking to the big office worker and instead raised her free hand and looked up to the heavens. "C'mon! I know you can hear me! Get out here!".... "Ok, fine; guess you don't mind me blowing up your little playground!".... "You think I'm bluffing? How do you think I got here?! You think I won't do it again?!".... "...What do you think this will accomplish?"As if she was there the entire time, The Janitor stood in front of Yuna, mop in hand, and everything around her just seemed to pause; Consair was frozen in place, and all-time around them seemed to be suspended in this one moment. "I am genuinely curious. As amusing as your vapid act of rebellion is, dropping that flame would do nothing. You think you can smoke your way out of a hellbound cell?"
"Not really, no; I just wanted to talk to you again.""Well, here I am.""Here you are...Lilith"The janitor snorted almost in amusement. "You know me."
"I know you; it's hard not to figure out who the spooky demon lady torturing wrestlers is."
"...and yet you're not afraid. Interesting."
"Yuna doesn't fear anything. Not death. Not darkness. Nothing. You thrive on fear, but you fear the fearless.""
"The lack of fear is not bravery. Fear is the beginning of knowledge. The man who willingly swims with sharks is not brave; he is ignorant.""Yet it got you here right where I want you."The janitor couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. "You believe yourself to be in control?"
"I do. Because you're going to let me go, You're going to bring me back to life, and you're going to let me compete in the King of Death Match Tournament."The janitor couldn't help but tilt her head back and laugh, an unearthly unnatural sound that would probably give any normal person nightmares for years on end. "Why praytell would I do that?"
"Because you don't want what I know to get out."
"What you know or do not know has no bearing on me, foolish child."Yuna steeled herself squaring her shoulders before making her big move; she moved over to a nearby piece of paper and wrote a name down before passing it over to the janitor; almost amused, the janitor took it in hand and read the name... ...and her expression dropped. All humour and cheer seemed to die out of her in one fell swoop, replaced with a cold hard look of supernatural rage. Before Yuna knew it, an iron-like grip came to her throat and lifted her off the ground. "YOU. DARE?! YOU DARE?!"Until this point, The janitor seemed to relish playing her role and wore her human suit impressively. Still, that masquerade slipped away within a mere second as Yuna found herself staring into the eyes of the mother of darkness, her eyes flashing dangerously. Her jaws seemingly twisted into something beyond human, like she was about to eat Yuna whole. "Where did you learn this name?! WHERE?!""Not...Telling.""I will cast you down into an abyss! I will rip what's left of your sanity in two! I will make you watch as everything you love burns around you, I will torment you till the stars die out of the sky, and you only know pain that would make GODS weep."
"...and when you do, I will scream that name for everyone to hear."
"You forget your place Yuna Funanori.""Do we have a deal?""...." "Do. We. Have. A. Deal.""......" "....Well played."With a grunt, the grip was released, and Yuna was left in a heap on the ground gasping for air. "If anyone else were to make such an insane gamble, they would have lost, yet your willingness to destroy everything in your existence for the chance of taking up your sword once more is unusual."
"....So you'll let me go?"
" I'll...allow it, but I'd advise we'd never cross paths again, Yuna Funanori; before you go, I have one favour to ask."
"Yes?"
"Tell the white wolf I said Hello."------------ VI-RelapseYuna's eyes opened. She jolted awake, and at first, she wondered if it all had been some weird dream. It is not a dream Yuna decided as her head made contact with the lid of her casket. Three things surprised her at that moment. One, she was alive. Two, She understood and knew everything about The King of The Deathmatch. Alyster Black. Trixie Bordeaux. Reagan Cole. Kleio De Santos. Logan Darwin. Madison Gray. Anzu Kurosawa. Jason Randall. Death Walker. weaselperson. Sawyer Xavier. XYZ. The Crown of Thorns. FUN. The wood began to creak. Dirt seeped in through the tiny crevices, and Yunma immediately threw a fist at the roof of her prison. There was no time for thoughts as the moonlight tantalized her with a glimpse of its cold-loving light. Yuna began to swim upstream against the sudden sea of dirt pushing down on her. She clawed upwards, frantic and urgent, reaching for the moon as if she could grasp it in the palm of her hands. Her hand pierced the surface. The Autumn air is cool, but the aftershocks of the evening rain are somewhat evident in the slight humidity. The cemetery is silent, as dead as its tenants and cold as the faces of the statues which stand guard over the graves. Yuna Funanori hoisted herself out of her tomb. She crawled out of the earth, reborn, and she fails to her knees with formaldehyde and embalming fluid, forcing their way out of her system as she vomited on someone else's grave.
"Sorry" The owner didn't answer; she guessed he didn't mind. Yuna stood alone in the cemetery. So what now? She thinks to herself, wiping some dribble off her chin. It was then Yuna noticed what leaned against her grave. A sword. Her sword. When you make a deal with the devil, you get what you pay for. As if she knew she was going to do it the entire time, Yuna pushed forward, and in one fluid and practised motion, she flicked the sword up and into her hand; she let it just lay there in her grip, enjoying the familiar weight the perfect balance of it. Her reflection gleamed in the shine of the metal... Her arm was complete again. A satisfied smile on her face, her head tilted towards her tombstone. "Death is but the next great adventure." Yuna disagreed. King of the death match. That was the next great adventure. ---------------- -EpilogueAt that exact same time, thousands of miles away, the most docile and calm parrot in the bird sanctuary started screeching and flapping his wings. "SQUUUUUUACK, WHAT IS DEAD MAY NEVER DIE! SQQQUUUUACK! PATCHES SEES A NEW HORIZON!!! SQUUUUUACKK! QUEEN OF THE DEATH MATCH. QUEEN OF THE DEATH MATCH. MAN, THE SAILS, CAPTAIN BACK ON DECK! CAPTAIN IS BACK ON DECK. FIRST MATE PATCHES READY TO MAKE SAIL SQUUUUACK"What followed was a bloody and brutal brawl as many zoo keepers were left blinded and cut thanks to the parrot talons, ignoring the screams of the zoo keepers. Patches The Parrot flapped his wings towards freedom. His destination? The Grand March |
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Post by supinesnake on May 28, 2024 21:06:24 GMT
Originally posted by Dubb. “It’s going to be okay, dear.”
Phillip reached over from the passenger seat of their parked silver 1991 Chevrolet Cavalier, taking his wife by the hand. Janet looked over at her husband, her eyes swollen and red from the crying. She reached to her face and wiped away the tear residue off her face while also flipping back the curly brunette locks of hair away from her face. She forced a smile looking into the friendly, caring, and loving eyes of her husband. How could he be so calm at a time like this?
The news had certainly hit both of them hard. But somehow, Phillip had kept his poise. He was able to hold his head up with a smile.
Janet wished she could say she was as unnerved as her husband. As soon as the words escaped the doctor’s mouth, she was hysterical. Bent over in the exam room, holding her knees as she let out a cry of despair.
It had been their worst fear. A word neither of them thought they’d hear that day.
Cancer.
How was this even possible? He was so young. He had big plans. Big dreams. They had just recently started their family. Phillip was just given a raise at work. They had a bright future together. No one should be given a death sentence at the age of thirty-three.
“How…” Janet struggled with her words. “How can you… be so sure… what about…” she couldn’t even finish her sentence without breaking down more. Lowering her head to the steering wheel and letting out another wail. Her husband placed his comforting hand on the top of her back, rubbing back and forth.
“Because,” he replied calmly, “I know how strong you are. I know you can handle this. And guess what, I’m not going down without a fight. You know how much I love you. You know how much I love him. I am not ready to leave either one of you. Whatever happens… it’s going to be okay. I just know it.”
Janet looked back at her husband once again and seeing his smile was enough to, if only briefly, dry her tears. She leaned over, embracing him with a hug across the middle console of the car before pulling back and kissing him on the lips. After allowing the moment to linger, Janet pulled back. “How do we tell him?”
Phillip’s smile briefly faded as he paused in thought. “I’m not sure we do,” he responded solemnly, “at least not yet. He’s only five. I’m not sure he’d even understand. I want to enjoy whatever time I can with him… while I can.”
Another tear began to swell up in Janet’s eyes, but she breathed in deeply and wiped it away before it could escape the confines of her eyes. She nodded in agreement with her husband. Their son was a sensitive soul who she wanted to protect at all costs. Especially from something so devastating as knowing that his time with his father could be limited.
Phillip exited the car, stepping out into the gravel of their unpaved driveway outside their humble two-bedroom Ranch style house in the outskirts of rural North Carolina. He walked around the front of the car to open up the driver’s door to let Janet out. He took her by the hand, helping her up and together they walked up the path to their front door, climbing the steps and crossing the threshold. At that moment, Janet put on her brave face. She buried down any sense of sadness or fear for what the future held. She had to. It was for him.
Their teenage babysitter greeted them both with a hug with full awareness of the situation. She especially shared a long hug with Janet.
“DADDY!”
Their five-year-old little blonde boy in glasses rushed down the hallway toward the front door, nearly tackling his father as he grabbed ahold of his right leg. Phillip brought his head down lovingly onto his son’s head and ruffled his hair. “Hey bud, miss me?”
“You know I did!”
“How was he?” Janet inquired of the babysitter, though she already knew the answer. Their son was not a troublemaker. He didn’t give anyone a hard time. When they weren’t around, he mostly kept to himself. Especially when Phillip wasn’t around…
“Oh, he was as good as always,” the young girl replied as she turned to Phillip, “I tried to get him to play hide and seek like you suggest… but no dice. He insisted on waiting for you.”
“Can we play now, Daddy?” the young boy looked up with pleading puppy dog eyes to his father.
Phillip chuckled, “how can I say no to that face?”
“You’re it!” the boy said playfully as he ran off down the hall.
Phillip watched as his son darted away. He was the light of his life. At just five years old he was his best friend.
The reason he wanted to continue to live.
“Guess I’m counting then. Alright, here we go!”
"One…"
"Two…"
He wanted so badly to fight his disease. He wanted to grow old and watch his son grow up. Make friends. Graduate school. Find success. Find love. Start his own family. Those are the things all parents want for their children. Phillip had the desire to fight. He had the desire to live.
"Three…"
"Four…"
For the longest time, he felt something was wrong. But like most men, he didn’t think much of it. He hated going to the doctor. Whatever it was would surely pass. But the signs of old blood, the constant exhaustion, and the unexplained weight loss took their toll. It was Janet who had finally forced him to go to the doctor to begin with.
"Five…"
"Six…"
For the next few months, Phillip played with his son as much as he could. But the games of hide and seek began to grow fewer and far between as the exhaustion came on faster and faster each time they tried. He needed more time to rest.
"Seven…"
"Eight…"
And then came the chemotherapy. The overnight hospital stays. The extended hospital stays. Unfortunately, hide and seek just wasn’t in the cards anymore for Phillip. The only times he got to see his son in those last days was by his hospital bed. How do you explain to your six… no wait, he had just turned seven. How do you explain to your seven-year-old that Daddy is too sick to play with him anymore?
“Nine…”
“TEN!”
He wished he could hide.
“Ready or not, Jeremy! Here I come!”
No one can hide from death.
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JEREMY BEST
Has
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“Dude, I think you’ve really lost your mind now.”
Bryan Baxter pulled his silver Toyota Tacoma into the parking lot outside of the Food & Stuff store, shifting it into park as he looked over Jeremy in the passenger seat. The usually clean-shaven Jeremy has added more fuzz across his entire face as he stares out the windshield. His normal friendly smile was now just an emotionless void. “Jeremy? You there?”
Jeremy snapped out of the trance-like stare, shaking his head and turning to face his friend and partner. “What’s that? Oh, sorry, what were you saying?”
Bryan raised his eyebrows. He had learned a lot more about Jeremy in the past couple of months than he had certainly ever known in the many years they have known one another. While many haven’t liked what they had found out about Jeremy, Bryan felt as though it answered a lot of questions he had always wondered about him. How is it that anyone could be that nice? Well… maybe they can’t be.
“I said you’ve lost your mind.”
Jeremy felt a sense of paranoia crossing him. He’d been called crazy before in his life. More than once. He didn’t like it. He’s not crazy. He’s not. He IS nice. He IS a good friend. What was Bryan questioning him for so suddenly and out of the blue? “Pardon me?”
“Entering the King of the Death Match? What were you thinking?”
Jeremy breathed a sigh of relief. THAT’S all he was talking about. Whew. Jeremy smiled, “I dunno Bryan, I’m actually not sure what’s come over me…”
“Dude, Bill specifically warned you about this…”
“Yeah, well… this was a decision I had to make myself. And besides, Mr. Scorpane isn’t here, is he?”
Jeremy was referring to the fact that on Meltdown, Mr. Scorpane had seemingly been abducted by the Nephews though on Fallout, their own agent was hanging out with the Nephews on a beach somewhere and seemingly being recruited to become a Nephew.
“Okay, sure, yeah - I’ve been telling you for a long time that we didn’t need Bill, so maybe that was a bad example. I dunno what he’s doin’ either, and it’s pretty fuckin’ unsettling to see him cozying up with the folks associated with our opponents at Carnal Contendership… but we got other fish to fry before that. And I gotta worry about not knowing who the fuck my opponent is at Grand March… but even more, I’m really fuckin’ worried about YOU, Jeremy.”
“I assure you, Bryan,” Jeremy said calmly as he looked to reassure his friend, “you have nothing to be worried about. What’s the worst that could happen?”
“Uhhh, well for one… Alyster Black is in the tournament and you could end up in the ring with him and there’s a reasonable chance he might ACTUALLY KILL YOU.”
Jeremy chuckled, “don’t be so dramatic, Bryan. It’s not a literal death match.”
“I dunno man, I know how bad he wants to hurt you… with all this Krash stuff…”
“Don’t be silly! Alyster Black kindly invited me into this tournament due to our mutual friendship with Krash…”
“Jeremy…” Bryan tried to interrupt, but Jeremy continued, undaunted.
“And besides, I’ve already beaten him once.”
“Sure you did. You definitely did and deserve all the credit in the world for the win. In a low-stakes match with nothing on the line. Not only does he want to physically HURT you, but he also loves that damn X Title more than anything. He’ll do anything to keep it.”
That’s right, Jeremy thought. He certainly does love that X Title more than anything. It was certainly much more important to him than anything in the world.
Including Krash.
Alyster would choose to save that darn title before ever trying to help Krash. It was certainly obvious from the fact that it was Jeremy who came to Krash’s aid, not him. And it was Jeremy currently rehabilitating Krash and soon… very soon… Jeremy would usher Krash back into FWA. And when he did… he would be at Jeremy’s side. Not Alyster’s.
“And Hell, Jeremy, there’s 18 other guys in this tournament besides you and Alyster. A mixture of freaks and people who get off on these types of matches.”
Jeremy shrugged his shoulders, “I’ve done extreme matches before, you know. I was in Mile High Massacre, Steel Roulette, Jailhouse Blues…”
“Okay, sure, but none of those compare to what they dream up for this tournament. I watched last year’s tournament… and I consider myself to have a pretty strong stomach and at points, I felt my stomach churning…”
“Haven’t I seen you dry heaving at pimple popping videos?”
“Hey! Those are fucking disgusting! I’d rather be in a death match…”
Jeremy laughed, “So what's the plan then? Should I just run and hide?”
Bryan pulled the keys out of the ignition as he opened up the door. “Nah, unfortunately, I think it’s a little late for runnin’ and there’s not really gonna be anywhere to hide.”
“So what then?”
Bryan motioned towards the store as he got out of the truck. “We’re goin’ shoppin’”
While Jeremy wasn’t sure why Bryan needed to shopping at a time like this, he was along for the ride. He didn’t let his friend know of his trepidation for the tournament… how hesitant he had been to sign up in the first place. Nor did he let Bryan know about his real thoughts about Alyster Black. The real reason why he would defy all sensible logic and partake in something so barbaric as the King of the Deathmatch.
After all, Bryan was right, he was certainly a stranger to a deathmatch.
But he was no stranger to death. Unfortunately, Jeremy got introduced to death quite early in life.
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Jeremy loved playing hide and seek.
No, Jeremy loved playing hide and seek with his father.
For Jeremy, his father was both his best and only friend.
“So Jeremy,” Daddy would ask, “what are we gonna play today?” The young Jeremy would look up, his eyes gleaming through his glasses, and before he could even answer, his dad responded for him, “hide and seek?”
The look on Jeremy’s face was priceless. Every single time.
“You count. I’ll hide!” the young boy said with excitement before he would rush away to his hiding spot. His father would laugh to himself because he knew exactly where Jeremy was going. That’s because Jeremy always went to the same spot. He went into his parent’s bedroom and climbed into their wardrobe to hide.
And so his father would go through the motions. He counted out loud to ten. He announced with conviction, “ready or not, Jeremy! Here I come!” But he couldn’t just go straight to the wardrobe. There was no fun in that. This was a game. He would pretend to be confused about where in the world Jeremy could possibly be.
Was he in the pantry? No.
Was he behind the couch? Nope.
Was he under the bed? Most certainly not.
“Gosh Jeremy,” he would say with faux exasperation, “where are you, buddy? Wait…” he would pause, almost as if being hit by an epiphany. “To be sure… no, no, no, he wouldn’t possibly… would he? No, he certainly wouldn’t be hiding in the wardrobe again.”
Phillip would pause because it was always at that moment he could hear the light giggling coming from the wardrobe. He slowly would tiptoe over to the wardrobe before swinging it open, “AH HA! I found you!” He would reach in and embrace his son, pulling him in for a big hug as they both laughed.
“You know, buddy,” Phillip said as he held Jeremy in his arms, “you should really think about changing up where you hide every once in a while.”
“NEVER!” Jeremy shouted with a big smile.
“Why not,” his father questioned, “if you always go to the wardrobe, I’m always gonna find you, you know.”
“But Daddy,” Jeremy answered with the wisdom only a five-year-old could have, “I don’t want you to ever not find me.”
Phillip was speechless at the response from his son. Instead of saying anything, he just pulled him in for another hug before he finally was able to respond, “I always will.”
“I love you, Daddy”
“I love you too, buddy. How about another round?”
Jeremy never had to be convinced to play another game of hide and seek with his father. But over time, he found himself having to do the convincing instead. Jeremy didn’t understand why Daddy wanted to sleep so much.
And he certainly didn’t understand why he stopped being at home.
Why was the babysitter here so much now instead of Mommy and Daddy?
At seven years old, Jeremy’s father would pass away in a losing battle with colon cancer.
Jeremy was distraught. He barely knew anything about life, much less death. All he knew was that his best friend had been taken from him.
“Jeremy, Jeremy, where are you?” his mother frantically paced through the house wearing a black dress while trying to fasten her necklace around her neck. “Come on, Jeremy. We don’t have time for this.”
Where was Jeremy? The answer was quite simple. His father certainly would’ve known where to look.
Jeremy was hiding.
He refused to believe that his father was gone. That was not possible. He had told Jeremy that he would always find him. And so, Jeremy curled up inside the one place he knew his father would find him.
And it was inside the wardrobe that he wept silently. Alone.
“I found you!”
Jeremy smiled.
Not because it was the excited words of his father as he swung open the wardrobe doors and brought him into his warm embrace. No, it was not his father. It was the voice of his new friend.
Jeremy didn’t make many friends. No, Jeremy didn’t really make any friends. He kept to himself at school. He had his father and that was all he needed. But he was gone now. And with no friends at home and no friends at school, Jeremy had no one to play with anymore.
And so Momo was born.
Jeremy’s need for a friend during the time that his father had gotten sick led him to create a new friend to fill the void. Momo had come to comfort him. “Hiya, Momo,” Jeremy said through his sobs, looking over at his animated purple friend.
Momo shifted his large frame around inside the wardrobe, “say, Jeremy, maybe you could find a hiding spot that’s a little more spacious?” Momo chuckled as he rubbed Jeremy’s hair.
Jeremy wiped away his tears and actually smiled slightly, “you know I can’t do that, Momo. This is where he’s gonna find me.” Momo squished himself up against Jeremy, bringing his stubby arm around his friend and pulling him in for a hug. “Thank you,” Jeremy said as he looked up at his purple buddy.
“For what?”
“For being here.”
“Of course, Jeremy. What are friends for?”
“Come on Jeremy,” his mother called out once again, “where are you? We have to go?”
“You should probably let her know where you are.”
“She should already know,” Jeremy said with some resentment. He would know.
“C’mon Jeremy,” Momo said firmly, ”your mother loves you very much.”
“She never plays with me. Not like he did.”
“That doesn’t mean she doesn’t love you. She works hard for you, Jeremy. Your father was a great man. I heard what many of those people had to say about him… they all said he was one of the friendliest people they’d ever met! They kept saying things like… he never met a stranger… he’d do anything for his friends… but for all those friends he had, you were number one for him. But trust me, you're number one for her too. Just give her a chance.”
Jeremy sniffled and nodded his head as the doors to the wardrobe swung open, his mother standing there. “Oh thank God, there you are. You almost gave me a heart attack! What are you doing here?”
“Playing hide and seek,” Jeremy responded with another sniffle.
“Oh Jeremy,” Janet sighed, knowing how much her husband and son loved that game. She took Jeremy and lifted him into her arms, much like Phillip would do after finding him. Jeremy wrapped his arms around his mother’s neck. “I promise… we’ll play later okay? But I’m afraid… that right now… there’s no time for hiding. It’s time to go say one last goodbye…”
Jeremy could feel the tears starting to roll down his face once again. Janet carried Jeremy out of the room, as he looked back at the wardrobe. Momo looked back at Jeremy with a friendly smile, waving to his friend as he started to disappear. Jeremy waved back to his friend and tried to smile back as well, but if there was ever time he wished he could hide, it was that moment.
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“What is this place?” Jeremy questioned as he and Bryan walked through the doors of the large warehouse-like store. One side of the store seemed to have your standard groceries while the other half of the store had a hodgepodge of literally almost everything else.
“How have you not heard of Food & Stuff?” Bryan replied as he grabbed a shopping cart. “It’s where I buy all of my food. And most of my stuff.”
Jeremy shrugged his shoulders and walked alongside Bryan. “Is this really the best time for a grocery run?”
“Haha,” Bryan laughed, “but we’re not here for me! We’re here for you!”
Jeremy cocked his head as he looked at Bryan with some confusion. “But I don’t need any groceries.”
“That’s fine. Because we’re here for STUFF!”
“What kinda stuff.”
“All kinda stuff, really. Anything I think you could use during the tournament. I got ya back, my man.”
“Exactly what am I going to need?”
“Well,” Bryan turned down an aisle filled with a variety of different sporting equipment. “For one, some protection wouldn’t hurt.” Bryan headed down the aisle and began riffling through a rack of football gear. “This looks like it’s your size,” Bryan said as he tossed some football shoulder pads into the cart. “And oh yes, definitely going to want one of these,” Bryan found a bin of different types of helmets. He picked up a baseball helmet and a football helmet, glancing at both of them. “Hmm… good but… I think we can do better… ah ha!” Bryan tossed both of those helmets aside as he went back into the bin and pulled out a hockey goalie mask. “Perfect!”
“This seems like a bit much, don’t you think?”
“Nah, this baby will give you full face protection. Let’s see Alyster Black get a light tube through this sucker.”
“A light tube…?” Jeremy’s voice trailed off, displaying some growing anxiety.
“Oh yeah, there’s definitely going to be light tubes in a death match. For sure. Oh, that reminds me… we need to hit up the hardware section.”
The more Bryan kept filling up the cart, Jeremy felt more and more trepidation about his decision. He looked down at the contents of the cart, picking up the hockey mask and placing it over his head. Meanwhile, Bryan browsed through baseball bats, picking up a wooden one, “we could grab some nails from hardware and stick them right through…” Bryan stopped as he turned to Jeremy and noticed him trying on the helmet. “Hey, looks like a perfect fit. It looks good on ya. What do you think?”
Shifting the helmet around on his head, Jeremy couldn’t deny it certainly made him feel very protected if not slightly obstructing part of his vision but he was beginning to think he may need to be on the defensive in this tournament more than he thought. “I think… I coulda used this kinda protection in school.”
Bryan laughed as he tossed the wooden baseball bat into the cart. “Haha, really? I thought you were Mr. Popular in school, friends with everyone, right?”
Jeremy pulled the helmet back off, holding it to his side. He chuckled nervously, “I mean, yeah, for the most part. But you know how bullies can be…”
Bryan also nervously laughed a bit himself, because yes… of course he of all people knows all about what bullies can be like. All he had to do was look in a mirror. But this wasn’t about him. Shaking it off, Baxter went back to shopping for Jeremy.
But the truth was, Jeremy wasn’t always everyone’s friend.
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Life after his dad passed away was not easy for Jeremy. Which is to be expected for any young child who loses a parent. But for Jeremy, he became even more withdrawn from his classmates and felt even more of a larger divide between himself and his mother.
Because unfortunately, Janet Best now had to pull the weight of two parents. She had to pay the bills and the mortgage that two people were paying. She took on a second job waiting tables at night and unfortunately had to leave Jeremy by himself on most evenings.
Jeremy got used to being alone. At some point, he didn’t even mind it.
He at least had the television to keep him company. But he also had Momo. Together they’d sit on the couch each night, watching shows like Boy Meets World, Full House, Step by Step, and Family Matters. His family became those characters on the television screen.
But at school, he kept to himself. While many kids left him alone to himself, many thought it was odd that Jeremy would prefer to sit by himself to eat his lunch. But one kid took it upon himself to make Jeremy’s life a living Hell.
Frank was a much larger kid than Jeremy. While he was only three grades higher than Jeremy, in fifth grade, he looked more like a high school freshman. Most assumed he had been held back at least once, probably twice. And Frank loved tormenting Jeremy whenever he got a chance.
“Hey, Poindexter!”
A chill went down Jeremy’s spine as he dropped his school pizza back onto his tray. Frank’s voice immediately struck fear within Jeremy as he looked around for a place to hide. But when you’re sitting alone at a table in a crowded lunchroom, there are not many places to hide.
“Four eyes, I’m talkin’ to you!” Frank called out as he approached Jeremy. Grabbing Jeremy and pulling him out of his plastic chair. Jeremy adjusted his glasses as Frank took ahold of his neatly pressed shirt collar. “I told you not to come back to my lunchroom until you’re gonna pay me my lunch fee.”
“S-s-s-sorry, Frank,“ Jeremy stuttered, “but like I said… I don’t… have any money for you…”
“No money?” Frank said as he looked down at Jeremy’s food tray. “You sure got some food there!”
While Frank may have been too dim to understand the logistics of how school lunch works, Jeremy was telling the truth. Due to his mother’s current financial situation, Jeremy qualified for free lunch within the school system. But, of course, Frank wasn’t interested in any type of reasonable explanation.
“No money? NO LUNCH!” Frank shouts as he shoves Jeremy’s tray off the table, sending the pizza and peach slices scattering across the floor. Frank then grabbed Jeremy’s carton of chocolate milk and proceeded to drink it right in front of him before crumpling it up in his hand.
“MISTER PERKINS!”
The voice of one of the teachers quickly changed Frank’s tune as he placed the milk carton back down and wrapped his arm around Jeremy. “Yes, ma’am?”
“What’s going on over here?”
“Oh, nothing! My pal Jeremy here just was a little clumsy and dropped his food. I was trying to help him clean it up. Ain’t that right, Jeremy?” Frank tightened the grip of his arm around Jeremy’s neck.
“Y….yes, sorry,” Jeremy quietly and reluctantly responded.
“Well, clean this mess up you two. And keep it down.”
With the teacher turning her back to the pair, Frank shoved Jeremy away from him. “Listen, Poindexter, you couldn’t pay my fee so now you’re gonna pay for real. I’ll see you after school.”
Frank would leave Jeremy shaking in terror knowing what was waiting for him at the end of the day. He would spend the rest of the school day in anguish, watching the clock and wishing it the hands would move even slower than they normally do.
But eventually, the end of the day would come. The bell would ring, much to the delight of most of the students in the school. But for Jeremy, it meant the time had come. Jeremy knew that his mother wouldn’t be there to pick him up until the very end of carpool due to the timing of when she got off from her first job. So what was he to do until then?
Jeremy knew what he could do.
The thing he was best at.
Hiding.
Jeremy scurried to the bathroom after the bell rang, locking himself in the bathroom stall, setting his backpack down on top of the tank of the toilet, and then climbing onto the closed toilet seat. He crouched down and he waited.
And he waited.
The school slowly emptied. Jeremy checked his watch. It was 3:15 PM. He knew his mom was almost always there right at 3:20. To be sure enough time had passed. Frank had forgotten or moved on.
Slowly, Jeremy brought his feet down off the toilet to the ground. He grabbed the straps of his backpack and threw them on his shoulder. He cautiously unlocked the stall door and peeked out to make sure he was alone. He tiptoed to the door of the bathroom and once again carefully peered out. The halls were mostly empty but most importantly… there was no Frank in sight.
Feeling a sense of relief, Jeremy made his way down the hall, making his way to the front of the school to the exit to the carpool line…
“Not so fast, FOUR EYES!”
Jeremy froze in his tracks. Frank had spotted him as he exited the gym at the far end of the hallway. “Don’t you move!”
Jeremy decided not to listen and decided to run. Jeremy ran for the doors, bumping into another student along the way, knocking them both to the ground and giving Frank time to catch up. Jeremy scrambled to his feet and darted for the doors with Frank hot on his trail. Into the daylight, Jeremy stumbled to the ground as Frank grabbed his shirt from behind just as a ‘91 Chevy Cavalier came to a stop. The window rolled down.
“Jeremy,” he heard his mother's voice say through the window. Jeremy had never been so relieved to hear his mother’s voice. “Is everything okay?”
Frank let go of Jeremy’s shirt and once again wrapped his arm around Jeremy’s neck. "Well hello there, Mrs. Best! We’re just clowning around!”
Janet smiled as she gave a wave to Frank. “Come on, Jeremy. I can't be late again.”
“Coming!” Jeremy said as he pulled away from Frank.
Before Jeremy could get away, Frank pulled him back in and whispered to him, “this ain’t over.” Frank then let Jeremy go, allowing him to walk over to the car. Jeremy looked back at his bully as he opened the door of the car. “See you tomorrow, Jeremy!” Frank said with an insincere wave, his eyes glaring at Jeremy.
Jeremy shut the door and buckled as Janet pulled away from the school. “So glad to see you are making some friends,” she said with a smile.
“Yeah…” Jeremy said quietly, “something like that.”
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Jeremy walked behind Bryan and the shopping cart which was now filled to the brim with light tubes, a roll of barbed wire, a nail gun, several packs of nails, a roll of bubble wrap, the wooden baseball, and then the multitude of safety gear from earlier including some new stuff like a construction hard hat and safety goggles.
Bryan pushed the shopping cart into the clothing section of Food & Stuff as he began to look through a rack of heavy jackets.
“Do you think I will need a coat?” Jeremy questioned as Bryan pulled one coat off the rack.
“What, no,” Bryan responded as he slid the jacket across his arms, “this is for me. It’s going to be cold in Chicago. It is the windy city, you know.”
“Right,” Jeremy nodded, his head still struggling to wrap itself around what he’s gotten himself into. Jeremy walked away from Bryan, starting to look around at the rest of the clothing section of the store. He made his way further into the section where there was winter gear, finding himself stopping and staring at a display of ski masks. He picked up a black ski mask off the display.
Jeremy stared at the mask intensely. It reminded him of Alyster Black.
He always wondered why the mask. What was Alyster trying to hide?
Jeremy took the mask and slid it over the top of his head, positioning it securely across his head. He adjusted it so he could see clearly through the eye holes before he turned and looked into the full-length mirror nearby.
Perhaps Alyster wasn’t proud of this violent, barbaric nature. He’s certainly done things in his career that he shouldn’t be proud of. And Jeremy wasn’t just thinking about how he shouldn’t be proud of how he made no attempt to save Krash. Instead, he thinks about Alyster’s brutal matches with the likes of Devin Golden and Danny Toner. Perhaps wearing the mask makes him feel better about himself. Like there are two different personas. The man in the mask and the man under the mask.
He looked at himself in the mask.
Could Jeremy ever do that?
Could that be the secret to this tournament?
Could this be the way he could hide?
Jeremy wouldn’t admit it to Bryan but part of him has gone to a dark place. Part of him thinks about Alyster trying to take Krash away from him… or even worse, hurt him. And when he thinks about that, he feels a darkness inside him that does want to do whatever it takes to protect Krash. Could the mask be the key? Can he use the mask to separate what he might do to Alyster Black in the tournament… or anyone else along the way?
He pulled the mask off his face and then looked at it. No, he couldn’t. He’s seen what allowing himself to go to a dark place can do before. He hasn’t gone there in a long time. He didn’t like the way it felt. He’s not violent. He’s nice. He’s friendly. That’s Jeremy Best. He’s not some bloodthirsty lunatic.
But still, Jeremy stared at the mask.
This wasn’t an ordinary situation.
And to keep Krash protected… Jeremy would do anything.
And that might involve going to a dark place that he hasn’t visited in a long time.
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Janet Best pulled the Chevy Cavalier back into the school parking lot loop, just as she does every morning before she heads to her first shift. Jeremy Best sat quietly in the passenger seat, waiting for his turn to get out of the car. He had tried to fake being sick to avoid another interaction with Frank, but his mother had seen right through it.
“Hey,” she said, getting Jeremy’s attention, “I know it’s still hard. It’s hard for me too. But it’s gonna get better, okay?”
Jeremy remained quiet and just nodded.
“I know,” she said cheerfully, trying to get Jeremy excited, “how about you invite your friend over for a sleepover.”
The young seven-year-old Jeremy turned to his mother, looking at her inquisitively. “What friend?”
“The one from yesterday at pick up. He seemed nice.”
Jeremy shook his head, “he’s not my friend.”
“Oh,” she said with disappointment. She worried about her son and wanted him to start making some friends. Some real friends. “Well, maybe he could be? Maybe you should invite him.”
“NO!” Jeremy shouted, much to the dismay of Janet. Jeremy wasn’t one to normally raise his voice. “I DON’T WANT TO INVITE ANYONE, OKAY?”
Janet nodded, immediately reverting to trying to calm her son down, “Okay, okay, that’s fine. I just worry about you, you know. It wouldn’t hurt for you to try and make a friend or two.”
“I don’t need a friend. I have Momo.”
Janet rolled her eyes. She was well aware that Jeremy had made up an imaginary friend in the wake of Phillip’s passing. At first, she thought it was cute, but now she found it a bit unhealthy that Jeremy was so obsessed with it. She wanted a more normal life for her son. She wanted him to have real friends. But she bit her tongue. As she always did.
They worked their way through the carpool line in uncomfortable silence before finally the door opened and Jeremy got out, his mother wished him a loving goodbye while Jeremy waved to her before walking with dread into school. He went directly to his class and made sure to stick close to his teacher all day. Including volunteering to stay in the classroom during lunch to help her organize the class library.
He was doing everything he could to avoid Frank.
By the time the end of the day came, Jeremy was feeling more confident in his ability to avoid him. Especially since he knew he could hide out in the bathroom once again until 3:15 PM.
And hide Jeremy did.
He watched his watch closely and right at 3:15 PM he rushed from the bathroom and into the hallway. He looked to the gym… no sign of Frank. Jeremy sighed as he walked out to the front of the school and looked to the carpool line for his mother’s car.
3:20 PM came and there was no sign of a silver Cavalier.
But Jeremy waited.
And waited.
3:30 PM came and went, the official end of carpool. But his mother hadn’t shown up.
Luckily, neither had Frank.
Jeremy sat on the brick ledge at the front of the school, continuing to wait but 4:00 PM rolled around and there was still no sign of his mother.
Realizing she wasn’t coming, Jeremy grabbed his backpack and decided he would just walk home. It was only four blocks away and wouldn’t be the first time he had made the journey.
Jeremy made the trek down the sidewalk, thinking to himself about what he was going to watch on television when he got home. Today was Momo’s day to choose. Jeremy secretly hoped he would choose Mighty Morphin’ Power Rangers.
“Well, well, well, what do we have here?”
No, it couldn’t be. Jeremy was crossing a side road where Frank and a few of his friends were throwing rocks at some birds in a playground. “Poindexter!”
Jeremy wasn’t waiting around to see what Frank wanted to say. He knew what he wanted, after all. Jeremy began to run as fast as he could as Frank darted away from his friends, giving chase. “Get back here, ya jerk! You can run but you can’t hide.”
The young Jeremy took a sudden right turn onto a side road, off his path home, taking another quick turn through a couple of driveways, cutting through several backyards, and trying to zigzag his way through different homes to evade Frank. Jeremy looked back as he ran, thinking he had gotten away as Frank was nowhere to be seen.
But he turned around…
SMACK!
Jeremy had run right into Frank!
“I told you, you can’t hide!” Frank laughed as Jeremy fell to the ground in front of the bully. Jeremy began trying to scurry backward on the ground as Frank stalked over him, starting to pound his fist into his palm as a form of intimidation. Jeremy was trapped.
He had nowhere to hide.
“I told you, I was gonna pound you into the ground. But that was before. Now I’m gonna smash your head in!”
“Please,” Jeremy pleaded, “don’t…”
“What’s the matter, Poindexter? Don’t got your Mommy to save you this time?”
“Please…”
“Yeah, maybe you should call your Daddy to come help you instead.”
Tears began to roll down the young Jeremy’s face as he inched his way back out of a yard and into the sidewalk. “I can’t… he’s… dead…”
While Jeremy was in tears, Frank just laughed. “Oooohhh, you poooooor baby! Daddy go bye-bye? Poor Jeremy and his dead DADDY! Hahahahahaha!”
Jeremy sniffled as his breathing began to intensify. The young boy felt something inside him… a feeling he had never felt before. It was like anger… but he had felt anger before. This was something much more intense. He looked up from the ground as Frank continued to just laugh away.
“Hahahaha, I guess your dead Daddy can’t help you then, huh? Too bad, so sad!”
Jeremy looked to his side, noticing a larger rock amongst a multitude of other rocks along the side of the road. He wasn’t sure why and it was almost out of impulse… Jeremy reached over and grabbed that large rock. He tightened his grip…
And that was the last thing Jeremy remembered.
Everything just went black.
The seven-year-old woke back up and found himself sitting next to Frank. Frank was on the ground. He was unconscious. There was blood on the side of his head. Jeremy looked down at his hand and saw that same rock he remembered grabbing. The rock was now also splattered with blood.
In horror, Jeremy dropped the rock to the ground.
Had he done this?
No, he couldn’t have.
Jeremy was a nice boy.
He couldn’t have done this.
Jeremy dropped to the ground next to Frank, curling up into a ball as he began to weep next to his bully’s unconscious body.
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Jeremy Best walked back over to Bryan Baxter and the shopping cart, holding the ski mask in his hand still. Jeremy slipped the ski mask into the cart. Just in case. “About ready?” Jeremy questioned his partner.
Bryan finally settled on a denim jacket that he placed in the cart. “Yeah, I think we should be good to go now. How you feeling?”
Jeremy hesitated before finally bringing his trademark smile back, “I’m super, Bryan. Thanks for asking! I really appreciate all this. I’m feeling a lot better about this now!”
“Awesome.”
“How about you? You don’t even know who your opponent is and they don’t seem too happy with you.”
“Eh,” Bryan shrugged it off, “I’m used to it. When is anyone ever happy with me.”
Jeremy laughed as Bryan pushed the shopping cart back to the front of Food & Stuff, heading for the checkout lines. “I feel like this is gonna cost a lot of money,” he said with some concern.
“No worries,” Bryan said as he pulled out his wallet, retrieving a credit card. “Bill may have left us for some Nephew adventures, but he also left me his business credit card. All this is on Bill!”
“Oh? Well alrighty then! Thanks Mr. Scorpane!”
Just as Bryan was about to choose a check lane to get in, his stomach audibly rumbles. “All this shopping for stuff has made me hungry. Maybe we should check out the food after all.”
Jeremy shrugged, “sure, I could go for some food. What kinda stuff do they have?”
“Oooooh boy, just you wait,” Bryan said with a surprising amount of glee as he instructed Jeremy to follow him to the other side of the store.
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Jeremy was hiding.
Once again in his favorite place to hide. The wardrobe was in a new location but it was still the place he went. He still held out hope that maybe he’d go there and it would’ve all been a bad dream. His dad would open up the wardrobe and scoop him up into his arms like before. And everything would be okay.
Frank ended up in the hospital, but he would be okay. He named Jeremy as his attacker, though Jeremy disputed it vehemently. He certainly had no recollection of it anyway. Luckily for Jeremy, Frank had quite the track record of violence and it was written off as Jeremy acting in self-defense.
His mother had been mortified by the entire situation. She first had been remorseful that she had forgotten to pick up her son from school that day. Her first shift ran long and immediately had to get to her second job if she didn’t want to be fired. She blamed herself for the situation but also didn’t believe her little boy was capable of what had happened to that bully.
Being from a small town, it’s hard to escape a situation like that. People talk and given what their family had been through in the last year, she felt like this was a sign. They needed a fresh start.
And so, they moved. Fittingly to a town her husband had always joked about. Phillip was known around town as “Everyone’s Best Friend.” On trips to Charlotte, they’d always see signs for a town called Friendship. “Maybe that’s where we should live,” he would joke every time.
So now Jeremy sat hiding in his mother’s wardrobe. Still in her bedroom but now inside a small apartment in Friendship.
“Jeremy!” Janet called out, once again looking for her son. “You don’t want to be late for your first day.”
Jeremy shook his head inside the wardrobe. He was dressed for his first day at his new school, but he certainly wasn’t ready. He’d rather just hide. He already knew what school was like. He was sure this one would be just like the other one. There would probably be another Frank there. Or maybe even multiple Franks.
“Hiya Jeremy,” the friendly, soothing voice of Momo said as he once again appeared inside the wardrobe with him. “What’s the matter?”
“I don’t wanna go to school.”
“Oh, Jeremy. You have to go to school! Learning is fun and you can make some new friends.”
“I don’t want any new friends. I just want to wait here until he comes and gets me.”
“Oh dear,” Momo said as he put his hand on Jeremy’s shoulder. “Lil buddy, you know he wouldn’t want you to spend your life hiding all the time. He would want you to be more like him. Wouldn’t you love to be more like him?”
A tear rolled down the young boy’s cheek, which was wiped away by Momo. “Yeah… I would like that.” Jeremy looked up at his purple friend with a hopeful expression. “But how?”
Momo chuckled, “now that’s a good question. Well, what is it that people always said about him? He was friends with everyone, right?”
Jeremy nodded his head. He remembered those words from the funeral. He never met a stranger. Always there for people when they needed him. Did anything he could for his friends.
“Maybe that’s it! You’re going to a new school today, right? Well, you go there today and you make it your mission to make as many friends as possible. You become everyone’s new best friend!”
The young boy started to smile but also doubted himself. “I dunno, Momo. I’ve never had any friends… what if no one likes me. What if no one wants to be my friend?”
“Don’t be silly. You’re an awesome kid! Everyone will want to be your friend. All you gotta do is try. Your dad is part of you… you have it in you. I know you can do it!”
“Jeremy! We’re going to be late!” His mother grew more and more impatient.
“What do you say?”
Jeremy reached over and hugged Momo. “You’re the best, Momo! I’m gonna do it. I’m gonna make some friends!”
“Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!!!” Momo said joyfully as he returned the hug to Jeremy. “Now go on! Get out there. No more hiding!”
Jeremy pulled away from the embrace and nodded to Momo as the purple being faded away. He flung open the doors of the wardrobe and jumped out with a spring in his step. “Coming, Mommy!”
Janet was surprised to find a smile on her boy’s face on the car ride to the new school. She had dreaded this morning and just knew she might have to take him kicking and screaming into school again after his last experience. But somehow, Jeremy seemed suddenly both at peace and even, dare she say it, excited to go to his new school.
Whatever it was, she was glad to see him smiling again.
She gave him a hug and a kiss before sending him on his way to school. Tugging on his backpack, Jeremy walked through the doors of the school, being greeted and ushered to his room by the principal. The teacher introduced herself and showed Jeremy to his desk cluster.
Jeremy took his seat next to a young, freckled redhead girl. He looked over at her with a smile. “Hiya, my name is Jeremy! Want to be friends?” Jeremy extended his hand out to the girl for a friendly handshake.
The girl glanced down at Jeremy’s hand before looking back up at his cordial expression. Inside, his stomach was in knots of anxiety as her pause felt like forever. But much to his delight, she returned the smile and took Jeremy by the hand, happily shaking it. “Sure! My name is Rebecca but you can call me Becky! Nice to meet you, Jeremy!”
Inside, a sense of relief washed over Jeremy. He had done it. He had made a friend. The anxiety he had was replaced by a sense of accomplishment and excitement. He had unfamiliar feelings, a pleasure he wasn’t used to. But he wanted to feel it more.
He could get used to this.
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Bryan and Jeremy left Food & Stuff with a slam-packed shopping cart. Together they worked to load up their loot into the back of Bryan’s truck. Best eyed the light tubes, the barbed wire, the nails…
But more importantly, there was the safety gear. The hockey helmet. The football pads.
He was ready.
Ready as he’ll ever be.
Because the time for hiding is over.
But really, at King of the Death Match, there was going to be nowhere to hide. |
|
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Post by supinesnake on May 28, 2024 21:08:46 GMT
Promo reviews. Originally posted by Man. Aka Manto - I really enjoyed this promo, Grim. It’s one thing to just say that Aka and Keiko have chemistry and expect us to just accept it, but your writing of their interaction proved it, which was really good. Aka being the main focus of the promo makes sense, given she is the one with the history with the FWA. Had there not been mentions of Cole and Mason in here I’d have been disappointed, but you’ve laid some good groundwork here with Aka initially giving Reagan the benefit of the doubt. I’m interested to see how her viewpoint shifts (if at all) and getting to know Keiko some more. This was a very clean promo and it served as a good introduction for Keiko and re-introduction for Aka. I really liked the mirror metaphor and Aka being sucked back into it to represent her coming back into what she knows can be a very horrible environment that keeps pulling her back. What could have set it apart a bit more would have been to talk about the match or the opponents a bit more, but given the circumstances and this being a debut promo, I think that can be overlooked. I’m very glad to have you back and with such an early promo drop, very glad to see that you’re up for it. Nice work, Grim. --- Originally posted by Rosie. Since @welshyboi wanted me to give feedback, I'll do some, at least brief. First, the grand idea of the Hunger Games. A concept which probably has been done before, but in the world of e-feds, almost nothing is original and it is about execution. Something small which I noticed that can make your presentation a bit extra is just choice of image. I think it was a good choice to have pictures of your opponents as a way for a visual pop. Something to make it have extra weight. The pictures for the canons, for Weasleperson appearing, Black, good choice. But the first picture does have that extra bit on it which takes me out of it a tiny bit and the Campfire does have a watermark on it. These are legit nitpicks, but sometimes having an image without those things makes your promo a bit extra nice looking. For the actual content itself, I really like the idea of a running narrative throughout. Rather than you hitting hitting a quota of "I need to see each person," you decided to focus down on highlighting a couple key characters with Trixie. Her main (unwilling) rival, someone she teamed with (potential future storyline?) as the main antagonist for Trixie and her main ally. You show her as this person who is overly trusting, but show a hint of her starting to get a bit more of a clue of "Okay, in wrestling people stab each other in the back," questioning KDS. Then of course, Alyster Black just shows up and kills her because "Yeah, he's the favourite to win." and etc. I think that is the thing which I like the most of the promo, just having that connecting story throughout. But, the real question I ask, and this isn't me telling you that you should have gone one direction or another, is that the only way it could have gone? What if Trixie grew a spine more and fought back against someone like Black, going down with a fight? Could you have had KDS try to betray her? I think something like that, a twist or a big emotional moment could have been something small just to take the promo itself to a different level. Maybe it could be something to show Trixie's personality more as a hard-headed girl who doesn't go down? Is she maturing? Just spit-balling. But I think this might be overall, one of your better promos. Just theming things together, trying something out of the box and I think no matter what happens, you can hang your hat on this knowing you've taken steps forward. --- Originally posted by Sully. grimAka and Keiko - I think this was a great promo that really set up the dynamic between Aka and Keiko well. You mentioned that you were worried it'd push too far but I don't think it does. Somewhat prejudicely, if Keiko was a man I might've been more grossed out. But I think it's going to be a good dynamic to explore how manipulating and abusive a woman can be in this type of dynamic as well. I think one thing about this promo is it pretty much is a static setting where not too much happens beyond the dialog between Aka and Keiko. It's got a soap opera feel to it. Which, for the purpose of fleshing out these characters works really well especially in a first time match. But I think for a PPV or once you get going with them, I'd like to see some more fleshed out story pieces that go beyond that dialog. But still for a first time promo I think this works well and it gives us a really good introduction to Keiko. I enjoy tag team duos that have tension and complications between them, but do beware they're difficult to traverse as the story can eventually sort of flow towards them breaking apart for good...if you let it. Joe Burr and Sully sort of worked out that way. The tension was a good part of their characters, but somewhat unplanned it sort of rolled into something too big to bring back. That's a dynamic part of FWA that I love though. The way we plan for storylines and yet the promos we write show to show sort of take the story on a totally different path than we've intended. Overall you've got a good base here and a lot of good stuff to build off of, good work! supinesnakeMvH - Let it be known that from a fan standpoint, I am rooting against MvH in this one the most. I think I want Cyrus Truth to win, but I'd be okay if Chris Peacock retains. MvH getting her third world title reign though? I'd be repulsed. With that said, this promo puts you in a good position to do just that. The opening introduction was great. From the fourth wall breaking where the reader (and graders) are recognized, to Uncle and him setting up this story. It almost felt like a Tales from the Crept or some other anthology sort of vibe, and if this promo was an anthology in itself I think I'd have really enjoyed it. The walk through the halls at the beginning of the story did a good job of quickly introducing a bunch of characters of the FWA universe without diving too deep. I think the little lines with each character sort of capture well how these characters (and almost handlers) are like out of character. My biggest gripe about this promo I think is more so from a personal standpoint, and it's a controversial one at that because it locks in a view point of how the kayfabe of the FWA operates. We've had debates before on this exactly and I think it sort of ended with, we can all view it our own way. I for one think FWA is sort of a hybrid of kayfabe and not. It's not totally scripted like WWE, but it's not real either. I like to see it as closer to UFC. The fights are real and the outcomes are real, but the storylines and drama are usually fake. I like to view it this way because when it comes down to it, the fights are real in the FWA as promos are graded. But, I know people disagree with that opinion. The fact that this promo has the premise of an alternative universe makes that gripe pretty moot regardless, but it's still one I wanted to share. I think addressing Cyrus as the favorite from Russnow is a good approach though, especially as I started this review by saying that Cyrus was my favorite to win. I wrote that line before reading a single word of your promo, so that fact that your promo essentially responded to that is cool. I think one of the best parts of this promo though is that it captures the nuances of backstage WWE/AEW, something we don't really see much from promos. It's a unique take/perspective that I don't know if it's been done much at all, and definitely not from a long while. And again, the premise of this being an alternative reality helps quell any controversies that people may see with this backside view of the fed. I think the Cyrus Truth monologue about Stalin's son was the peak of the promo from me, and I actually almost questioned whether or not Cyrus actually wrote this part because you captured him so well. Did you get the idea of doing a wrestler's court with Cyurs as the judge after I asked that question in the discord a few weeks ago? The ending was in a perfect place, right before the gorilla positions. The final lines amplify the theme of the promo being that this is an alternate universe, although I do sort of wish it ended up Michelle contemplating a Montreal screw job sort of deal instead of just accepting her position. Haven't read Cyrus or Peacock yet but this is going to be hard to beat I think as it's a perspective that stands out. I think promos with different perspectives are always going to be winners, especially ones that are unique and offer a different point of view we've rarely seen. tommy Bedlam Tommy Bedlam - I might be biased because I am rooting for Tommy hard in this one, but I think you absolutely nailed this. There's no doubt I think Tommy might be one of my Top 3 favorite wrestlers right now on the roster. I was worried for a moment with the intro as I thought the Tommy/Randi back and forth was going to be the whole promo, but once you had Tommy transition to Lucien's it all started clicking. This honestly felt like a promo out of my playbook, as it had just the right mix of fantasy and reality. You really set up the whole office and character of Lucien well, as he's exactly how I pictured down to the Glen McKenna 35 and everything. The subtle way that Lucien talked felt natural "Years ago I did some of my work in a garden, but that's not really where my interests lie today". He sort of reminds me of The Strange Man from the Red Dead Series. One small gripe is I think Lucien's explanation to Tommy of who he was went on just a paragraph or so too long, it felt too forced at that point, but it was easy to move past once we get into Lucien's deal. The premise of Tommy selling his soul to the devil is a good one, and it's one you can build off if in one way or another, even if you twist it back into a more grounded reality. It also really fits for a match against Summers. I think many would consider that character in his own right to be the devil, and that's what makes him a powerful character. But this promo you wrote takes the premise that Summers is this big bad evil, and basically babifies it. Because as Lucien said, Summers isn't above him. Lucien is smarter, stronger, and eviler than Summers in every way. And so for Tommy to align himself with this true all-powerful evil? It feels like it gives Tommy the ultimate advantage over an opponent, who in the grand scheme of things, is nothing compared to this new ally of Tommy's. I was thinking if I'd do anything different with this I'd think I'd have kept whether or not Tommy signed the contract a mystery until the end. Have him contemplating, and then cut to the Randi text like you did. Then finally showing Tommy signing the contract at the very close. But I really liked the mysterious Glen McKenna gift appearing on his seat instead. This was really well done. I'm probably not going to read the Summers one so I won't know if yours has it beat or not, but I think win or lose you wrote a really good piece here and have a lot of directions to take Summers when it's all said and done. @dubble J Bryan Baxter - Not going to lie, this is actually the first time I'm reading a Dubb promo. And I have to say, the hype was met! The intro with "Jeremy" talking with Bryan, and Bryan supposedly being dead was fun. It felt like a fun sketch, although it was a tease as I thought the arc was going to be more than just the bookends. With that said the premise works, because you're facing a mystery opponent. I think facing someone who you don't know who it is...that's tough. Especially in a one on one situation too. Hard enough in like CC or KotDM, but at least you can focus on other opponents. In a one on one match though? You have to really approach it delicately. The meat and potatoes of this promo actually felt like it paired up right in line with the MvH promo with the FWA backstage. It's an alternate universe with all these parodies of the wrestlers. Now you did exactly what I'd have done in this situation, and I think it's what seperates good RPers from the rest...even when you have an opponent you know. You focused on everyone in Baxter's world right now. You've got Jackson who's knocking on the door for an NA title shot, you've got the world champion Chris Peacock, and even former NA champ Lizzie Rose. I think people often gloss over talking about their predecessors a bit when champion. You beat them and move on. But I think it's takes a level of boldness to keep building off the past, but still finessing the present and future too. I think the Elizabeth character also captured Lizzie well, and your narrative did a great job of retelling the story but in a new way. The fact that Baxter sabotages Lizzie in this story is a good reminder of who really was the good guy and who was the bad guy in that arc, which goes back to the foreshadowing in the prologue nicely. Makes Elizabeth a potential suspect for the murder huh? From here this promo sort of turned into a low key American Psycho sort of vibe with Baxter slowly sabotaging his coworkers to get ahead. Definitely anti-social vibes. In the end Bryan gets the job, but also a long list of enemies. The twist with it being the homeless man at the end is a good one, especially as that sets up whoever your mystery opponent is to pretty much be linked right onto that metaphor. Overall this is a 35+ promo for me. It had a very similar premise to the MvH promo, but think the metaphors were a bit more fantasy. The title being a job title was a good perspective, and the backstory of the murder/after life discussion really tied it all together (as you could've just done the office fantasy promo, but with no cherry on top). It's a bummer that your mystery opponent is gonna blow their surprise load on a loss because you brought it. @jimmy King Jackson Fenix - This promo was light and the back and forth dialog between Nate and Jackson was fun. I was glad that you addressed Parr's history with the title, but I think you should've dug a bit deeper than just a few lines. He's the greatest North American Champion of all time after all. But Jackson's overall bravado and cockiness fit his character well. I read Parr's promo first, and low key I thought you had the upset right away. I think this promo as a scene outdid Parr's. I think it's presented better too. But what's lacking is the same depth and heaviness that Parr's touched on. As a result I didn't get the same sort of feel in the character development category that I did for Parr. I think there were opportunties to call out Parr's character on a lot of different things. Parr sort of did that to himself, but as an opponent you could've pointed out the same. About how Parr has never won the world title, and all he'll ever have is the NA title. Jackson could've bragged about how he'll be embarassed after losing to him, and won't even have the NA title anymore. I feel like there was a missed shot at some of those. But I know you also were doing the Jason Randall promo for KotDM too. Still I'm rooting for Jackson Fenix from a kayfabe standpoint either way because I think character wise it'd be better for both Fenix and Parr for Fenix to win this match. Parr will get to move on to grander pastures hopefully, and Fenix can dabble with a shot at the NA title. It's been cool seeing Fenix and Savage break out away from tag team competition a little bit and get some shots at some singles titles too. @cyrus Truth Cyrus Truth - I think you really nailed it overall when it came to character development for this one. Similar to Parr's promo, you really looked at your character's inner insecurities and put them all into words. This is one of your classic monologue promos, and you really use that monologue to let Cyrus spill his heart out. I didn't even notice the parallels for this triple threat match to the one where Cyrus lost to Saint Sully way back at Desert Storm 2019, but I definitely see the connection. In a way Peacock is Sully, and MvH is Gabrielle. Although, one of my biggest points when I wrote the winning promo for that match was that you had been champion for so long and it was time to move aside. I think you had the chance to take that similar idea, but from a reverse standpoint. Since Sully and Cyrus, all these new champions hold onto the world title like butter. Cyrus is one that can win and hang onto it for months and months unlike any other, a reign I think we're long due for. One of the reasons why I am rooting for Cyrus, because I think if anyone can do it he can. It's interesting to hear Cyrus say quite honestly how much he needs to win the title. He's right, if Peacock or MvH lose this match I don't think they lose much footing. But this sort of feels like it's Cyrus' last chance to prove he's still the same World Champion caliber threat that he was 4-6 years ago. Like I said, it's the inverse of the triple threat match at Desert Storm 2019...where you had the newly formed main eventer in Sully against Cyrus and Gabby who had been there for years. Now it's the old veteran Cyrus trying to take the title back from the new era of main eventers. I do feel like some of those connections were missed, but maybe that's because they're connections I would've made, and you're your own writer who knows more of what fits Cyrus. I started to suspect that the host was actually Cyrus the entire time, but seeing the twist play out was nice. I think this really encapsulated a classic old school promo. There's no big alternative universe and you didn't need to bring in a bunch of parodies of your opponents. No, just Cyrus writing some deep dialog and a simple but creative enough backdrop with the host/mirror and a twist at the end. So far I've read your promo and MvH's and it feels like your classic case of Old School vs New School, which in a sense is the premise of the match in and of itself. I don't know yet what Peacock's is going to give me or where he'll fall into that. I also don't quite know yet which one I'd pick to win between the ones I've read so far, and I'm glad I don't have to. @princess Rosé @nostradamus Princess Nova and Keres - Presentation wise I love the inclusion of the Cello video. It allows me to get immersed into the promo itself as the music plays in the background. I've used a similar approach before and I think it always sets up the promo to really feel more thematic. It sets the tone for dark promo well. The only con to this approach is unlike a movie, readers aren't forced to listen to the music while they read, and even if they do they need to pace it right to get the best experience. As long as your promo is accommodating to the idea that someone may read the promo without the video, then it works well. By that I mean that it's important to also set the scene with descriptive words, which I think you do well with the details you use to describe how it looked and what they were wearing/doing. I think overall the intro really set up this whole cult thing well. and the way that Keres addresses the crowd is so cold yet thrilling. Princess Nova and Keres are such an ODD pairing and I think that's what makes the two of them so special. The way Keres and Nova present Lizzie and Burr to the crowd is a unique way to present your opponents and tear apart their flaws. Overall I think this was a fun read and it was presented well. The dynamic between Keres and Nova is good, but I think there's room to build. At the moment Nova seems to go right along with Keres, but Keres is such a contrast of herself that I expect a bit of second-guessing from time to time. I also think being newer was a disadvantage to you both here, as you could've totally attacked Joe Burr for his failed tag team with Saint Sully last year. How can he be a trustful partner to Lizzie when he turned on his own partner? Maybe a little something to sprinkle in if your story with Lizzie and Burr continues on. mandalorianChris Peacock - So after reading the MvH and Cyrus promos first, I had the assessment that the two of them had two very different styles of promos. Cyrus came at it with a very old school approach. A deep character development monologue approach, with a simple backdrop that still felt special and unique. SS went at it with a New School approach, embracing the way of the Nephews with a fourth wall breaking envelop pusher that makes us question the very fabric of the FWA universe. It begged the question of what style Man was going to bring into the fold, and personally I think your style is one of my favorites...as it feels very close to my own style. A huge world building fantasy promo that incorporates both a healthy balance of new school and old school. A tactful approach from the World Champion himself. With my un/self-diagnosed Attention Hyperactivity Deficit Disorder, it can be hard to hook me into a promo from the getgo. I tend to want to skip paragraphs with details that don't feel important, or jump around from the top to the end back to the top or the middle. It's an unhealthy way of reading, and a reason why I never was very good at grading (Thank god y'all are smart enough to know not to ask!). But this promo right out of the gate had me hooked. Mostly because, despite a theme that didn't feel special in our real world, felt right away special in this way. I couldn't tell if it was a Mandalorian promo itself, or just inspired from it/Star Wars. Its fitting from the Mandalorian himself, but after the intro I soon realized it was a bit different. Instead I got like more of a 12 Monkeys Vibe, or maybe like The Adam Project? A particular gripe I do have is that some of the letter names were hard to understand, but I think that's another facet of the world building that helps give it that sort of retro sci-fi vibe. I can't for the life of me figure out who P4JCK0N is though. The concept of the Old Guard being, well originally the heroes, is a great narrative based on my review for Cyrus. I know you didn't read his promo ahead of time, but I think anyone could anticipate going in that Cyrus himself would write something with the idea that he needs to bring the old guard back. (Honestly I don't like Sully being linked in with that old guard from a personal standpoint, as I don't think he ever was. I think he was one of the first to break through and take them down). One thing I feel like I need to point out about this old guard vs new guard angle is that the premise of the promo itself fits so well into that. It's a sci-fi time travel promo, where someone from the new is visiting someone from the old. Chris Peacock being put on this pedestal as like the official conquerer of the old guard is a bold claim, and while it's not one many may give him, they don't have to because you're the one writing the narrative here. There was a nice dose of comedy here as the Sci-Fi-Cyrus infiltrated Chris' brain, but it didn't throw off the tone of the promo either which is what makes it a well done scene. If we're to make this promo canon, the idea of a bunch of clones of Chris Peacock running around really sheds a new light on the whole Greg situation. The back and forth between the SciFi guy and with Chris during the journey provided some comic relief while still keeping me invested in the story. “You have no idea about right and wrong, Chris Peacock. Your concern is whether others perceive you to be on the side of righteousness and morality. You convince yourself that you have done some sort of grand deed for this ‘Cyrus Truth’, yet in actuality you have brought him into the equation as a buffer. Someone to distract yourself from the true threat to what you hold dear… this ‘Michelle’.” This part here is where the promo turned from a competing promo with Cyrus and MvH, to a winning one. As until then my biggest gripe with this entire promo was the fact that it seemed like Michelle was being overlooked. It was a dangerously bold approach that I wasn't confident would play in your favor. MvH made a similar approach with Cyrus being the declared winner in her alternate reality, which sort of by default made Cyrus the main focus/threat. I was worried you were making a very similar mistake, and one that would've potentially dampered a really well done piece. Chris' monologue that comes after is the peak of the RP that incorporates both MvH and Cyrus both, and puts Chris above both of them. The next part after in France seemed to drag on a bit for me as the ADHD kicked in, but it was a necessary transition in order to get to the climax. The climax started off strong as the C11 started to feel uncomfortable in Peacock's head, maybe a truly realistic encapsulation of who Chris is and what does go in there. It wouldn't have been a Chris Peacock promo without a musical number. I do think the hyperlink for the video though was a bit easy to miss or gloss over, although I caught it, I'm not sure if every reader did or would if they weren't ready as closely. I think a better approach for this is the spoiler embed that Princess Nova/Keres used, but different strokes for different folks. Something I mentioned in their review is when you do include a video, I think it's important to provide an adaption or even an assumption that the video won't be clicked on, and you do that by including the lyrics here which boded well I think for your presentation score. The twist at the end that Michelle was the big villain all along ties back to what I was saying/praising in regards to the both of them being fully balanced in focus. I think one thing that separates you from your opponents is the fact that you, better than the both of them in my opinion, balanced out the focus (and in a way that really flowed narratively). Whether that's enough for you to win I don't know, nor is it even for me to decide. The final monologue from Chris is the cherry on top. It had Chris Kennedy/Saint Sully vibes to it, and each line was cold and cut deep into both Michelle and Cyrus. "You’re too busy trying to prove yourself to everyone, like no one takes you seriously. You don’t know what it is like to not be understood or not taken seriously. Not really… because you choose to make yourself the outcast and the outsider. Just like Cyrus. I’ve tried to fit in my entire life and I’ve been cast aside, no matter how hard I have tried to do the right thing. Even though I’m supposed to be at the top of the world right now, I’m still being told that I don’t belong and I haven’t earned it. How fucking dare you, Michelle." - I don't know if I've ever seen two different characters dissected and torn apart in one paragraph in any other promo I've reviewed for this show, all the while propping yourself up at being better than the both of them. And continuing the perfect flow of balance, Peacock finishes off MvH, and then takes out C11 to pretty much cap off the metaphor that the old guard is extinct, and for a reason, and the new guard has arrived...with Peacock at the head. If I had any gripes I'd say just a tad that the presentation could've went above and beyond. Not that it was bad, and I didn't notice any grammer or typo issues, but the SS style of using different premade graphics, and even dividers, really does polish a promo out for the world tittle level. I think you might've even been able to find some Sci-Fi asethic sort of things to bring it together, but it doesn't take away, and if anything itf done wrong could be distracting. Overall an absolutely beautifully balanced story, and potentially one of your bests. @theprodigy Mike Parr - I think if I was going to write a Mike Parr promo for this match, the premise I would focus on is exactly the one that you did. For a brief moment, I was worried in fact that you wouldn't address it at all, but the prologue's ending eased me of that. There is absolutely no question that when it comes to the North American Championship, Mike Parr is the face of it. But what makes Mike Parr different is he's not okay with this. Up until a few weeks ago, my character Saint Sully had every record for the X Title, similar to Mike Parr with the NA title. But for Sully he eats that up, having an entire title attached to his legacy. For Mike Parr though? He's conflicted. He's not okay with that legacy, because he wants so much more. Because unlike Sully, he still hasn't won a world title. I've been saying in the discord a few times how we've had a run of guys who have been long overdue finally breaking through the glass ceiling and winning the world title (Danny Toner, Randy Ramon, etc). But there's one name that remains who's been with the FWA for I think a decade now. I think it'd be hard for a wrestler to compete in a number one contender match...for a title that very much is cemented in their legacy, when there's other things they need to accomplish. And I think you nailed those thoughts on the head. And it's for that reason why, I think I'm rooting against Mike Parr in this match for that reason, and I sort of get the feeling you are too. I get that feeling because this promo doesn't feel like an I want to win promo. It's a long internal monologue that perfectly captures the conflict, but there's no story around it, which for a PPV promo I think is lacking. It felt short, and although Parr mentions how he doesn't take Jackson Fenix seriously, I think Jackson is definitely set up for an upset. But the message I got from this promo is that Parr is trying to cement his legacy...to me? The connect between Mike Parr and the North American Championship is solidified. Sure, some people could make an argument for The Wolf who still has the most combined days with the title (a record Parr will surely beat if he does claim the belt for a 5th time). But I don't know, to me Parr is already the face. This promo screams of Parr internally longing for more. He questions whether he's pretty much resigned to the NA title scene, and somewhat accepts defeat on the fact that he never will win the world title. But I don't believe that...I think Parr can do it. But if he wins this match, he's going to get thrusted into the NA title scene for the next half a year if not longer. Sure he can easily win the world title as the NA champion with today's booking, but I want different. I hope this promo is the beginning of the final chapter for Mike Parr. And I'm sorry but I hope it beings with a loss. A loss that Parr can use to his advantage when he goes 100% heels in to winning the FWA World Title, with the same promo quality and energy that Mike Parr 3-5 years ago had. Not like my opinion matters, but here's who I think had the best in some of the different categories this week. Also keep in mind I didn't read any King of the Deathmatch promos and didn't include them in my assessment. Best Overall Promo of the Week Chris Peacock Most Creative Promo of the Week Bryan Baxter Best Character Development of the Week Cyrus Truth Best Presentation of the Week Michelle von Horrowitz Best Breakout of the Week Tommy Bedlam The World Title promos absolutely brought it this week. I'm glad I don't have to grade them. I think all three competitors came at it with a different approach. Cyrus with an Old School style approach, SS with a New School approach, and Man with a great balance of both (and metaphors that low key emulate the very concept of the old vs new to begin with). I had Chris Peacock as the best overall promo this week because I think I enjoyed his promo the most from just a reader's perspective, not a grading one. It had everything I expect from a World Champion promo. Cyrus and MvH weren't that far behind, and I think Cyrus excelled better than anyone at character development with a really raw inner reflection of the Cyrus Truth character's strugles. While MvH likely scores high in all categories, I think presentation has been a staple for SS as of late and he probably stands alone with Dubb right behind him when it comes to quality presentation of a promo. Baxter's promo was actually the winner for best overall promo until I read the Peacock RP. I thoroughly enjoyed it, especially considering he was RPing against a mystery opponent which is hard to do at any point. But he wins best creative for me because I think the metaphor for the job title being the North American Championship (North American Sales Director or whatever it was) was a great approach to keep the FWA world in tact but in an entirely fictional universe. MvH wasn't far behind with her alternative reality promo. And perhaps calling it a breakout promo is a bit ignorant considering it's been awhile since I've read a Tommy Bedlam promo, but I felt like this was above and beyond a new level for Tommy. It felt like he's taking a step up, and definitely was on parr with the level of competition he's been assigned as of late. I can see him only getting better and it won't be long until he's in the other categories as well. His promo where Tommy signs his soul to the devil will also be "breaking out" a lot of potential new arcs for Tommy to take the Bedlam character in the coming weeks. Big hype to come. --- Originally posted by dijo. KDS: Starting promo off with a typo is a choice! Idk if I'd take any presentation point away from it but Im not a big fan of different image sizes in promos and a lack of consistency in the sort of images presented. Felt like any random image off google was grabbed, which isn't necessarily bad but resizing it or trying to find something that works consistently would be better imo and would help add to presentation. I think KDS's mission statement being to erase Sully from X record would actually be a fun angle. Although I do believe the amount of reigns feels kinda like a weird goal for a wrestler to pursue versus combined days + length of reign. The reign counts are mentioned a few times throughout the promo, and obviously depends on perspective. You think decent about reigns counts but from my end reign counts just are a big "this is the amount of times Ive lost the belt" and isnt something to be praised or to try and achieve. Thinking in particular also about the shots at Randall not having won a lot of X title reigns. I do think the X obsession would be a strong goal to anchor KDS around long term and would be a cool aspect of the X title going forward depending on how long it lasts with whichever champion always have to be concerned about KDS as a factor. Feel bad for the massage therapist whose got Celestia simultaneously pooping & orgasming but then again I guess some people might be into that. Feeling light headed at the kidnapping truck stop good idea. Kleio shouldve had a fingerprint or face scan lock. Silly. The font change for the trip scene is a good idea. Seen a lot of tripping scenes in my efedding days, but dont think many people have gone that route. Never seen a frog run before, funny imagery. I'll chalk it up to the peyote. "I am not Saint Sully. I don't give a damn about records." That kills my KDS X title pursuit hype. Was a bit disappointed to see KDS quickly get over her ambitions for records. I think the ending monologue & the abrupt closure probably could've used a bit more work. A lot of the shots taken at the villagers felt too straightforward or overdone (as someone who faced Logan Darwin recently, even I felt that the shots I was taking was probably too worn out and most of them come up here). I think the Witch Trial idea and the rant itself were good conceptually, I'm just iffy on feeling like the delivery itself should've tried to find a way to say something new or a bit more differently perhaps? Ultimately, this was meant to be the highlight of the promo and I didnt feel like the zingers lived up to it. Certainly it would do decent from a QoC standpoint in terms of addressing tournament/match-ups, but I also think it might have somewhat of a ceiling in the quality of that addressing. And as usual, in these sort of big multiman matches, you're dealing with 10-20 other people who may also be ranting/monologue about other characters flaws, so saying things other people are probably also saying could hurt you. If you're gonna go that direction, you need to come up with more interesting commentary that feels different from the rest of the pack. Another thought, not necessarily a criticism but more an observation. Found it a bit interesting that while the throwback setting did touch on gender dynamics, there was no touching of racial dynamics (although Kleio is somewhat white passing, in that time I think it'd stand out as much as her gender?) Solid promo, I think the Witch Trial was a good creative idea, and theres some cool presentation elements here, especially with the peyote font change. I think if there was some proofreading & more consistency/thoughts put into the images, this couldve been a 5 in that aspect. ----------------- Shawn Summers: Starting a promo with an AEW arena is certainly a choice. -5 QOC for real world wrestling reference tbh. Interesting start the promo off with a discussion on Summers feelings regarding the world sort of hating him and how he genuinely feels about it. Even in this sort of internal description, it's hard to buy into his woe is me act in terms of having no one but I do think you set this up well for it being expanded upon in the rest of the promo and having an impact in how he behaves. Although he makes it a point to hide his identity in town, it's also clear that he's self-sabotaging these efforts in his fear of being alone and thats what gets him into his tough spot in the station later on. I did buy into his genuine appreciation for the TV title and his reluctance to admit it in a public format. And if I were an opponent, it's certainly something I'd try to exploit for story purposes and overall is something I'd like to see fleshed out in whatever feud Summers is involved in re:titles. In fact, his pursuit of X and a theoretical belt collector gimmick would work great with Summers using these as pseudo-friends since he keeps pushing everyone else away. This is only something I looked up because it was brought up in the promo but Sweetwater Texas actually has a 50% hispanic population. Just as much hispanics as whites. Irrelevant in the grand scheme of things, I guess. But I was curious. Think there was a lot of interesting introspection throughout this promo. Was a real good balance between focusing on Tommy Bedlam in terms of having Shawn Summers visit his hometown to see what he could dig up, something he probably does often with his opponents, while also drawing out a lot of development for Shawn Summers. Would do great in QoC straight up just in terms of having the focus on Bedlam, but you also have a lot of solid character work to add to it. Summers keeping himself busy, going so far as to tail a guy, all felt more like he was trying to avoid overthinking his own circumstances as much as it was trying to find dirt on Tommy. The situation blowing out of proportion for Summers and Summers panicking by the time he got into the police station were good in terms of making Summers feel vulnerable & continuing that trend of delving into his insecurities. You make a point of mentioning that this particular situation of vulnerability (the police station bit) is not one Summers has found himself often in. I'll take your word for it as I havent read a ton of Summers promos in the past year, I think the impact of that bit from a grading perspective would depend on how legitimate the uniqueness of this vulnerability is in the grand scheme of the other promos you've done. As in, if similar circumstances came up again, it'd have a bit less impact. I also liked that Summers being a very aware/observational guy was something that was set up from the very start of the promo and carried out throughout. He's great at seeing social cues, for the most part, great at navigating conversations. Lots of good subtle character work. The sherriff was a super cool character and a great shadow to Shawn Summers. The two seemed very alike in terms of being very pragmatic, their moral views on crime & vigilantism (FTR, I am on the side of Tommy Bedlam having done nothing wrong and the sherriff can eat shit). Would easily say the sherriff stole the show for this one and was the most gripping part of the promo though a bit sad he's probably a one off (not sure if he pops up in recent Bedlam promos or not). I think as usual you kinda let yourself down in the presentation department in terms of proofreading, but also not a fan of the image use. I think if images are used there's gotta be more intentionality to it, needs to feel like it enhances the presentation. The random sizes and styles don't work too well for me. I'd also have probably not bothered putting the bulk of the promo in a spoiler tag (though I wouldn't take any presentation points away for that). Given how close the match ultimately was, it would've been a shame if what had cost you the match was presentation. Good character focused promo overall and I think clear enough evidence that there's more to Summers than the usual controversy that swirls around him. Which one could either use to point out that Summers can work without the more controversial elements, as much as one can use as proof that people are overstating those controversial elements and underappreciating the character work happening. Presentation aside, the straightforward narrative does put a ceiling on creativity. I know you're big on wanting to figure out what you specifically need to improve so I do feel this review will probably feel a bit disssatisfying in that regard. It's tough to say really because your promos tend to be at the level where they're perfectly solid (circling low 30-32 grades) and in that grade range you either need to come up with a significant character progression moment or a particularly creative idea, and to iron out presentation. It's essentially at that area where you need to think of a way to make a promo stand out. And I know people hate that statement because there's a feeling like you need to go over the top creatively or whatever, but I do think that what separates a good promo from a great one is that a great one will find a way to be memorable and personally that's sort of the perspective I go into when I write promos against bigger opponents. What makes this promo different than the other promos I've/other people have done? Am I doing/saying something different? |
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Post by supinesnake on May 28, 2024 21:09:30 GMT
We open on a sunrise above the desolate desert. The baron landscape is only broken up by a tall mountain in the east, above which the sun appears. As it climbs, a dozen large trucks and as many buses branded with FWA insignia arrive at the scene. We watch the footage speeded up a thousand times as a small army appears and - within the space of the day, the sun reaching its apex and then retreating again on the opposite side of the picture - erects the necessary apparatus for a wrestling show. A small stage comprising of steel mesh and barbed wire backs onto a large, temporary warehouse. A ramp runs from the stage to the ringside area, where an array of hardware has been left for the use of the men and women who will arrive tomorrow. A steel barricade separates a large area around the ring from nothing but desert. There are no seats or benches. One by one, the trucks and buses fill up with excess materials and workers and disappear.
The sun sets and darkness reigns. We cut to a close-up of the ring. There is no music over the scene. We can hear only the whistling of the wind. Across the FWA logo in the centre of the squared circle, a scorpion slowly scuttles under the pale moonlight. We cut away from it to spools of barbed wire stacked by the steel ring steps. Then to bundles of lighttubes that are propped up against the opposite barricade. Tables are stacked against one another next to the ring ramp. A podium stands on the stage, but at the moment it is empty.
Back in wide shot, the sun rises again. All is quiet.
A series of vehicles drive into the scene, each parking near the temporary warehousing unit erected by the stage. A 2023 Buick rental… a silver Toyota Corolla… a yellow ‘magic’ school bus… a black Ford Ranger…. Another montage shows a sequence of doors opening and boots being planted in the sand. We see none of their faces by design, but see the full profile of the last of them. He is wearing a mask and has his FWA X Championship on his shoulder. He looks around at the empty ring and the general desolate landscape that surrounds him. He sighs deeply and enters the warehousing unit to prepare.
The last to arrive are the roughly three hundred fans that are bused in from eighteen different locations spanning North America. Those that have been keeping up with the dirtsheets will know that none of them really knew where they were going when they boarded the transportation, as was the case last year. They are a combination of friends of the FWA and competition winners, the journey to the desert undertaken in the middle of the night, blindfolded, and with all GPS-enabled devices strictly prohibited. The fans file out of their buses, synchronised to arrive at the same time, just shortly before opening bell, and fan out to surround the ring and the ramp. Most are carrying cool-boxes and open containers. The silence of the desert is punctured by the general din and occasional chanting of the fans, as well as a small pop when Anzu Kurosawa walks out onto the stage and takes up position at the announcer’s booth.
Finally, the small screen above the entrance on the stage stirs into life. It displays four letters.
And then…
{WHATTA MAN (GOOD MAN) || I.O.I}[MEDIA=youtube]1eq9F-t02GY[/MEDIA]
There’s a pop of excitement at first as the speaker system around the stage breaks out into song, but this descends into a decidedly mixed reaction as Thomas West, last year’s tournament winner, walks out onto the stage. He has the Crown of Thorns positioned delicately upon his head.
Anzu Kurosawa: "Welcome, friends, to the 2023 edition of the King of the Deathmatch, from an undisclosed location here in the United States of America… and we’re kicking things off with the introduction of last year’s winner…"
Natalie Rosenberg: "Please welcome at this time… the 2022 King of the Deathmatch… Thomas West!!"
Thomas has something of a wistful look on his face as he walks towards the ramp, pausing as he reaches the currently empty podium at the top of it. He looks at the ring, tapping the top of the podium hesitantly, and then after a resolute shake of the head he takes the crown off his head. He rests it carefully on the podium, checking that it is positioned perfectly on the centre before turning away from the ramp.
Anzu Kurosawa: "Thomas West is of course here to join me at the announcer’s booth for what I’m sure will be an incredible Stage One of action… Thomas, it’s great that you could be here in some capacity, even if you’re not going to compete in the ring."
Thomas West: "Don’t put any ideas into my head, Anzu! I’m already on the fence. I just might jump you yet and take your place in this tournament!"
Anzu Kurosawa: "No need. At the rate people have been added to and removed from KODM2, I’m sure all you need to do is ask. Speaking of which: an expanded field of eighteen competitors are entering the fray here beneath this oppressive midday sun. As someone who has gone all the way in this tournament before, who do you fancy?"
Thomas West: "That’s something of a difficult question to answer, Anzu, when just under half of the field is currently unknown to us going into the competition. With seven mystery competitors it’s difficult to pick a clear forerunner. Who knows, maybe we’ll see a Nephew or two pop up over the course of today, in which case I’ll most likely switch my choice. But I think we’re destined to see Alyster Black and Kleio De Santos go at it during this tournament. Potentially in the final if the allegedly random draw doesn’t serve it up in an earlier round."
Anzu Kurosawa: "Hurtful, Thomas."
Thomas West: "You’re my pick for the CIBERNETICO! of Death."
Anzu Kurosawa: "I don’t think we’re doing that this year."
Thomas West: "So much change…"
We cut away from the commentators and to the stage, just in time for…
{SMELLS LIKE TEEN SPIRIT || NIRVANA}[MEDIA=youtube]zYxkezUr8MQ[/MEDIA]
There’s another mixed reaction around the desert as the music of Sawyer Xavier plays, and this mixture of cheers and boos continues when the young man walks out onto the stage. He makes his way down the ramp, looking anxiously at the various hardware that has been left around it.
Natalie Rosenberg: "Ladies and gentlemen, the following is your King of the Deathmatch 2023 opening contest!!"
A huge cheer, a roar really, momentarily breaks out over the mixed reaction for Xavier.
Natalie Rosenberg: "… and is your first of nine X Rules Deathmatches! Introducing first, from Savannah, Georgia and weighing in at one hundred and seventy six pounds… SAWYER… XAVIER!"
Anzu Kurosawa: "An uneven run towards this tournament in the preview matches for Sawyer Xavier. He triumphed in a trios match back on Fallout 026, but in Detroit on 027 he was defeated by Death Walker in a triple threat match, where it was his shoulders that were pinned to the mat."
Thomas West: "But I’ve always seen something in Sawyer Xavier. We got a taste of it back at the Anniversary Show when he was instrumental in Meltdown’s success, and this weekend could very well be his weekend. Last year it was Kleio De Santos that had the star-making turn… this year, why not Sawyer Xavier?"
Sawyer waits patiently in the ring, at first leaning against the corner and adjusting his pads. As this wait goes on, though, he grows a tad more impatient, beginning to pace a little in the ring whilst loosening up his joints and staring up the ramp at the stage.
Thomas West: "This is the beauty of blind bracketing, Anzu: we’ve no idea who’s going to be coming out of that curtain right now. And with so many mystery participants, it could be literally anyone…"
Anzu Kurosawa: "I just hope they don’t all make us wait this long. Between that and the clean-ups, this could be a long day."
Just like Xavier in the ring, the fans in attendance are also staring at the stage, assuming that the next participant will emerge from the traditional outlet. Their anticipation grows and grows and grows as we wait and wait and wait…
And then, from the distance, we begin to hear a low rumble. So do the fans, and even Sawyer Xavier, and they are bemused that it doesn’t seem to be emanating from the speaker system on the stage, or in fact from the stage altogether. Indeed, from the other side of the ring, and seemingly from over the brow of a hill, the rumbling noise grows and grows and grows… until appearing over the top of the slope are a dozen men, spread out in a wide line and with thick ropes upon their shoulders. They are not alone: from behind them, a second dozen men appear, each clutching the same rope as the one in front of them, still spread out but a little closer together. Their movement is slow, especially as they struggle to reach the brow of the hill, but eventually more and more of these workhorses appear, each pulling the same rope as the man in front of them in seemingly unending toil…
Finally, way behind these forerunners and in the centre of them all, what appears to be a crow’s nest appears, rising above the lip of the landscape. Standing within it is a young woman, holding a telescope. The camera strains to zoom and focus…
Anzu Kurosawa: "… is that …?!"
Suddenly, the speakers on the stage stir into life…
{A NEW ADVENTURE || Thomas Barbrook}[MEDIA=youtube]zWIBd9LEWZI[/MEDIA]
There’s a huge pop for the music, which only sustains as - lugged over the brow of the desert slope by over a hundred burly men tugging on long, thick ropes tied to the ship - a large pirate ship appears on the crest of the hill. Upon the stern are the familiar figures of Salvador Medoza, Oliver Corsair, Peg Leg Ned, Bad Henry, and the rest of the crew, whilst now more clearly upon the crow’s nest we see none other than ‘the Last Great Adventurer’ herself…
Anzu Kurosawa: "IT IS! SHE’S HERE!"
Thomas West: "She sailed a ship through the desert! That’s commitment, Anzu…"
Natalie Rosenberg: "And his opponent, accompanied to the ring by the Crew of Friendship… from Tokyo, Japan by the way of the Isle of Tortuga… weighing in at one hundred and fourteen pounds… ‘the Last Great Adventurer’... YUNA… FUNANORI!!"
The ship reaches the apex of the hill and, as it begins to more easily slide down the other side of it, the men pulling it on ropes drop their burden and disperse either side of the vessel. From the hull, a wide and flat wooden base emerges to give the boat additional stability as it negotiates its way through the sand.
Anzu Kurosawa: "What an entrance for the first ever FWA Gauntlet Champion, who returns here for her second appearance in the King of the Deathmatch tournament. She’ll be hoping to go further than she did in the first instalment when she went out in the first round to Kayden Knox… in a match that also featured, according to my notes, Randy Ramon, although I don’t quite remember that."
Thomas West: "It was him, Anzu! Look it up!"
The fans standing at the base of the hill that the ship is sliding down also get out of the way, and even Sawyer seems momentarily worried that the ship might career right into the ring itself, but a sophisticated system of brakes halt its momentum a few metres from the steel ring steps. The cameras now have a close-up of Yuna, Patches on her shoulder, as she surveys the ring with her hands on her hips. She has a smile on her face as she begins to climb down from the crow’s nest.
Meanwhile, in the ring, Xavier is pacing again, aiming to stay loose during the lengthy entrance. He watches as Yuna climbs down a ladder on the side of the ship, touching down upon the desert sand in the middle of a large group of fans that have garrisoned to welcome her warmly. With the red parrot still on her shoulder, Yuna hops the barricade, climbs up the steel ring steps, and then into the ring through the ropes.
With both competitors finally in the ring, the match official can make his customary checks, and then - the audience suitably pumped for the first battle of the night - is able to call for the bell.
  
MATCH ONE
Sawyer Xavier vs. Yuna Funanori.
X Rules Deathmatch.
Round One.
<< 0.00 >>
With the standing crowd baying for the start of the match, especially hyped after Yuna’s big entrance, Sawyer hopes to channel this adrenaline in his favour. He charges at Yuna… trying to knock her head off with a massive clothesline. It’s ducked by Yuna, though, who hoists him up and over the top with a BIIIIIIG back body drop… and right through a pair of tables that have been thoughtfully set up on the outside!!
Thomas West: "INSTANT CARNAGE!!"
Anzu Kurosawa: "Isn’t it wonderful?!"
Thomas West: "I’m sure Sawyer Xavier would have other opinions, but I think this crowd are firmly in agreement!!"
Indeed, the audience is firmly on Yuna’s side as she looks down at Xavier, rolling amongst the debris, and shrugs her shoulders. She quickly climbs out of the ring and collects a bundle of lighttubes, a half-dozen of them tied up into a tight cylinder, and then begins her ascent towards the top rope.
Thomas West: "In all honesty, Sawyer Xavier may be done already! I don’t think Yuna Funanori needs to do anything more, but I believe she’s going to… and most likely just for the fun of it! She’s always been a little bit unhinged!"
Anzu Kurosawa: "I love it! Yuna steadies herself on the top rope, carrying that bundle of lighttubes under her arm… here she goes… DAVY JONES’ ELBOW DROP!!!"
The bundle of lighttubes explodes upon impact as Yuna crashes down atop Sawyer, amongst the table debris!! She’s cut herself open under her right arm, but it’s quite clear that Xavier has got the worse of the exchange. After clutching her arm in pain, Funanori fights through it to hook the far leg…
ONE… TWO… THREE!!
{RESULT}Winner: Yuna Funanori by pinfall at 00:57.
Anzu Kurosawa: "‘The Last Great Adventurer’ gets us off to a lightning quick pace here at KODM2, with a victory in just under a minute in our opening contest! Unbelievable!!"
Thomas West: "I’m gobsmacked, Anzu! Gobsmacked! I had Sawyer Xavier marked out as a potential dark horse in this tournament, but Yuna Funanori makes light work of him to book her place in Stage Two!"
Funanori has climbed up to her feet and offers her good arm to the referee, which the official lifts high into the air. Swarming around Yuna is her crew: Oliver Corsair, Salvador Mendoza, Bad Henry, Peg Leg Ned, and ‘Jolly’ Roger, all of whom conspire to lift Yuna up onto her shoulders. Patches the Parrot lands on her shoulder.
Thomas West: "I guess Yuna didn’t get the memo that she was meant to come alone today… although, I imagine it would be a lot to expect her to man that ship all by herself..."
Yuna doesn’t head back to her boat, instead allowing her crew to carry her off up the ramp whilst the crowd cheers her name. The ship remains in its position, on the opposite side of the ring to the ramp and stage area, for the rest of the weekend. The Crew of Friendship pauses on the stage, Yuna looking down from her perch at the Crown of Thorns sitting upon the podium. She nods her head as the midday sun beats down upon her and we fade from the scene.
We cut to footage from earlier in the day as a 2023 Buick rental car with some significant damage to the front fender arrives in the desert setting and parks up near the large temporary warehousing unit being used for a backstage area. The door with a cracked window opens and Kleio De Santos steps out of the vehicle, alone and with her kitbag slung over her shoulder. She surveys the area as Todd Salum, a microphone in his hand, approaches her.
Todd Salum: "Kleio, welcome to the King of the Deathmatch… a stage that you, of course, know very well, given that you made it all the way to the finals at last year’s tournament. Any recollections of that barbaric and, for you at least, marathon day at the Granary last year?"
Kleio De Santos: "Recollections? Yeah, my recollection is the same as everyone's. The time Kleio De Santos almost broke out and made it, but fell just short. The last time that Kleio De Santos in fact had a big moment. Can you name a bigger moment for me since I became runner up last year?"
Todd Salum: "…"
Todd’s silence speaks volumes..
Kleio De Santos: "I didn't think so. Because since then I haven't been able to get my footing back. It's been a hard year with a lot of obstacles. "
Kleio seems reflective, and as the awkward silence lingers Todd decides to change tact slightly.
Todd Salum: "You will, of course, be hoping to go one better here this weekend. What have you done differently in the run up to this year’s tournament? Have the Ravenwood sisters, who weren’t on the scene this time twelve months ago, contributed at all to your preparations?"
De Santos seems brighter when talking about a more hopeful topic…
Kleio De Santos: "Let me tell you Todd, I feel better than I did last year going into this tournament. I feel stronger, I feel faster, and I feel more focused and determined. And unless Thomas West is one of the surprise entrants tonight, I can say that I have more experience than anyone in this tournament. And yes, Blair and Celestia have been with me the entire way. I have more support from them than I have ever had from anyone my entire life. They turned down an offer to fight against that new tag team with Aka and what's her face, in order to make sure they can stay with me and help me prepare. That's the kind of sacrifice a good team makes for one another. For all of those reasons alone...they all better watch out, because I am coming."
Todd Salum: "Last week on Fallout, we saw you pick up an old rivalry with XYZ. You were denied the opportunity to get your hands on XYZ in a one-on-one match-up last year. Are you hoping the brackets shape up differently this time out? Who else amongst the field have you got your eye on?"
KDS is almost bored by the repeated question about her old foe.
Kleio De Santos: "I don't have anything more to prove against XYZ, Todd. If you recall, I beat both him and Krash in the first round of last year's tournament. He may have gotten a jump on me at Back in Business thanks to my concussion, but the doctors have cleared me of all symptoms ahead of this one. I am 100% healthy and good to go. I don't see XYZ as any sort of threat…"
There’s an air of confidence about the young woman, even without the Coven at her side.
Todd Salum: "Who do you see as a threat?"
Kleio De Santos: "Of the competitors we know are in this one? To be honest, none of them. Alyster Black is probably the closest thing to it, and that's only because he's coming in as the champion. But there's two things about Alyster that should lower his odds in this one, Todd. The first thing is the fact that, as champion he is going to pretty much have a huge target on his back in every round. The second thing? Alyster Black wanted one thing. To break that record. You could tell that the last stretch of his run here he was out of gas. He barely made it through the Gerald Grayson match, and the jobber they threw him on the last show was nothing more than a PR stunt to shut up all the Saint Sully fans on twitter who were mad about him not having one last reign. The simple fact is? Alyster Black is someone who needs motivation to win a fight. The record was his motivation, and without it? He's gassed, he's done. The hungriest person is going to win this tournament, and I don't think that person is Alyster Black."
Salum cocks an eyebrow, wondering what Alyster Black would have to say about these comments… especially if they happen to be drawn together in the oncoming tournament.
Todd Salum: "Is there anyone you are worried about?"
Kleio De Santos: "I'm worried about the 8 mystery opponents, Todd. Not too much, but more so than anyone else. All the names that were announced on the card...I could prepare for. I've studied who I could, but...the ones I don't know about? They have an advantage over me. Personally, I think they're cowards. All of us that had our names on the card put ourselves out there. We've got nothing to hide. You can study my tape and prepare for me all you want, it's not going to matter. I don't need some sort of element of surprise to win this tournament. Those 8 mystery competitors? They obviously think they need that. So go ahead and keep hiding in the shadows...you won't be able to hide for long."
With that, and a long, hard glare down the camera lens, it appears that KDS is through talking. She leaves the interviewer and heads into the warehousing unit, her bag slung over he shoulder, ready to prepare for the wars to come.
***
Also earlier in the day, XYZ’s magic yellow school bus careers through the sand and eventually comes to a halt a few metres away from the interview team. His driving is erratic, and for a moment genuine concern creeps over Salum as the ship gets closer and closer, finally slowing down abruptly and suddenly. Todd clears his breath and brushes some of the disrupted sand from his suit as XYZ - also alone and without the Menage to back him up - emerges from the bus.
Todd Salum: "XYZ, another person very familiar with the King of the Deathmatch. I was earlier talking to KDS, who said - and I quote - I don't have anything more to prove against XYZ and that she doesn’t see XYZ as any sort of threat…. Any thoughts in response?"
XYZ: "Oh, Kleio… I remember our adventures through last year’s tournament and all the way to Back in Business well! Such a serious girl… such an angry girl… I only wished to help the young lady in not being so darn glum all the time! But you can only lead the horse to water… is that the saying? I think that’s the saying. It appears that young Kleio remains as hard and as closed as she was this time last year… she doesn’t see XYZ as any sort of threat? Rude! Rude and dismissive! But do you know what I have to say to that, Todd? Sticks and stones will break my bones, but words will never hurt me! Is that the saying? I think that’s the saying…"
X is caught in ponderous thought for a moment, with Todd picking up the slack.
Todd Salum: "Your battles with Kleio De Santos straddled the King of the Deathmatch and ran all the way to Back in Business, but this year it’s been Death Walker that’s been a thorn in your side. Death has constantly targeted you in the run up to this tournament, and we - as the viewers - have no real indication as to why. Is that a question that you can answer as the victim of these targeted attacks?"
XYZ: "Ah: DEATH WALKER! What a name! He walks on death! He walks with death! Ominous! Foreboding! Perfect name. Yes, me and Death have had our run-ins over the past few weeks. Why, you ask? Why is never a question that is easy to answer. What? No problem! Who? Sure! Where? Easy! But why...? With Death Walker, it is difficult to know if there even is a why. Some people are just nasty, you know? But it’s easy to choke a man out when his back is turned, his guard is down, and his spirit is low. Easy and deplorable! The Walker Of Death’s schemes speak of a low cunning, perhaps even a lack of confidence. I do not fear the Death Walker, for I am XYZ, THE LIFE RUNNER, the LIGHT to cancel out the DARKNESS! I ask that the hands of fate throw me and my new, random nemesis together this weekend, so that I may for once look him in the eye."
Todd has followed enough of the thread to be impressed by X’s confidence. He nods his head approvingly at his words.
Todd Salum: "How far can you go in this tournament, X? Last year, you fell in the first round, but won the CIBERNETICO! Of Death Match and earned a shot at Alyster Black’s X Championship. Twice you’ve gone up against Alyster Black, and twice you’ve come up just short… what have you learned from that pair of defeats to the now record-breaking X Champion as you hope to go into the trilogy fight this weekend?"
XYZ: "These old wars with Alyster still linger in the mind as well as upon the body. It was he who defeated me in the final of the X4 at Back in Business, after poor Kleio had been dispensed of. What have I learned? One can learn a lot about the depths of man’s depravity from Alyster Black… about man’s inhumanity to man. But this dark and gloomy X Champion will shrink before the glorious light of our new XYZ Champion! I may have fallen down upon this path before, but an old friend…"
A brief pause, almost a hesitation… as if the memory stirs something in him.
XYZ: "… an old friend taught me that strength lies in picking yourself back up again. That way, the dream… never... dies."
XYZ walks out of shot, a look of grim focus on his face.
***
A 2022 black Ford F-150 arrives and Death Walker steps out of it, looking around himself at his bleak and desolate surroundings. It seems to almost please him. He is, just like the others that we’ve already seen arrive, alone, which seems a common trend. Those that have been keeping up with press releases about the tournament will know that all competitors have been asked to come alone, which is why we’ve seen Kleio without the Ravenwoods, XYZ without the Menage, and now Death Walker without the Dark Guardian. As he begins to stride towards the warehousing unit, Todd Salum uneasily approaches and clears his throat. He looks slightly less comfortable with this interview subject, probably due to the proclivity towards violence that we’ve seen from Death Walker already in his brief FWA career.
Todd Salum: "Um, excuse me, Death… eh, Mr. Walker… have you got a minute or two for some thoughts ahead of the tournament?"
Death Walker halts and turns towards Salum. He cuts an intimidating figure as he looms over the interview. He nods his head.
Todd Salum: "When you were first announced for the King of the Deathmatch, many were saying that this tournament seemed tailor made for you… and you’ve certainly done your best to live up to that expectation in the weeks that followed. Many in the FWA audience have been asking why you’ve been targeting XYZ so frequently since you were both announced to be here today?"
Death Walker: "…"
Death Walker begins to breathe deep but slow while staring out over the empty space surrounding them. Then suddenly, he snaps out of it by snatching ahold of Todd's shirt collar and pats down his pants pockets. Upon finding something, he pulls it our of Todd's back pocket and frees the shirt collar from his grasp. The Dark Traveler goes to flip through Todd's notepad to get to a blank page. And now takes a pen from the interviewer's shirt pocket as he gets ready to write some things down. Within a few minutes, he has written how he feels in a very aggressive manner and slaps Todd's chest with the notepad within his palm. Todd nervously takes the time to read out the response...
Todd Salum: "Umm... ok... uh, you put here... ‘I did what was necessary to make a statement to all who thought I was just a fluke as I made my return. My first match in about 6 or 7 years and it just simply ends in a clean victory?! Nope... not on my watch it doesn't. So I waited for the right moment to send my messages and then chose to relay the same for Jason Randall... and next is sweet Trixie Bordeaux.’"
Taking a moment to readjust himself and fix his outfit, Todd Salum thinks about the next question he had in mind to ask The Death Walker as he seems to be calm again. Walker folds his arms and stares down Todd face to face upon the rest of this interview.
Todd Salum: "I had some time to speak with XYZ earlier today about this developing situation, and he said… hmm, let me quote: I do not fear the Death Walker, for I am XYZ, THE LIFE RUNNER, the LIGHT to cancel out the DARKNESS! I ask that the hands of fate throw me and my new, random nemesis together this weekend, so that I may for once look him in the eye. Any thoughts? Are you hoping to settle the score once and for here this weekend, should the brackets throw you together?"
Death Walker takes another breath and snatches the notepad again from Todd so he can write out the response. He writes just as aggressive before but pausing once or twice as if to gather the right words to put down. Then he smacks the interviewer on the chest with his own notepad once more. Again Todd goes into a shaky reaction as he looks down at the big hand pressing a notepad to his chest before taking the notepad slowly to read. And he reads the following...
Todd Salum: "Ok... so you said here, ‘My concerns are not about making XYZ fear me... because that will come in due time. XYZ just happens to be one of my examples as everything that unfolds. Many may have not noticed but encountering me alone has done its work... for I am a plague on humanity. I get under the skin and into the minds of those who oppose me, my acts of terror aren't short term but ones that are long and tedious expeditions. Think about it... why am I called The Dark Traveler? It is because I travel under the veil of darkness but more importantly, it is due to bringing catastrophic misfortune... whether providing some long overdue Dark Clouds or turning worlds inside out, making them... Pitch Black. And now... that I've been to HELL and back, I'm going to crumble everyone who thinks that they can shine at my expense. So XYZ and whomever else can bring their brightest lights to cut through my darkness but first they must ask themselves this. What's to stop me from eventually turning off those lights for good? What happens when there's no light source for them to find their way through the darkness? How much will it take to overcome this darkness... before it closes in and buries them alive?... So yes, I am pleased to encounter XYZ in this dreadfully repulsive and heinous series of battles... because I am determined to blacken the souls that believe they are safe... at night.’"
There's complete silence between the two individuals before Todd Salum goes into one final question to sum things up.
Todd Salum: "The tournament, though, obviously doesn’t begin and end with XYZ. There are eighteen other combatants here today other than yourself and X, some of whom you’re acquainted with through the preview matches we’ve seen on Fallout 026 and 027, whilst others remain a mystery. Who do you think poses the biggest threat to your hopes of taking the Crown of Thorns and the FWA X Championship home with you?"
Walker grabs the notepad nice and easy this time from out of Todd Salum's hand then he quickly writes his answer. He doesn't wait for Todd to read out his last response but rather goes to walk away as he tosses both the ink pen and pad at the face of Todd. The demon in human form turns around and heads off, throwing on the hood to his cloak as he trudges through some sudden gusty winds in this beautiful wasteland. Todd watches Death Walker leave his presence before reading what he wrote last.
Todd Salum: "Uhhh... let's see what he put down...
‘Death... itself.’"
{PAINT IT, BLACK || THE ROLLING STONES}[MEDIA=youtube]O4irXQhgMqg[/MEDIA]
There’s a decidedly mixed reaction for Kleio De Santos as she walks out onto the stage, loosening up and staring at the empty ring in front of her. Those booing have no doubt been keeping up with her exploits with the Coven, where she’s been drawing very much outside the lines. Others remember her exploits at last year’s tournament, and can’t help but cheer.
Natalie Rosenberg: "Introducing your first competitor in this second X Rules Deathmatch of the day… weighing in at one hundred and fifteen pounds… from Rio De Janiero, Brazil… ‘The Boa Constrictor’... KLEIO DE SAAAAANTOOOOOOOS!"
Anzu Kurosawa: "Last year’s defeated finalist is here at KODM2, and is no doubt looking to go one step further than she was able to in the inaugural tournament. Kleio De Santos makes her way to the ring for the opening contest."
Thomas West: "And, as the man who defeated her last year at that ‘inaugural tournament’, I know exactly how tough KDS can be."
Anzu Kurosawa: "She’s shown that she’s focussed on success this year, leaving the Coven to deal with their business and impressing in 027’s preview match, picking up a big tag team win alongside Trixie Bordeaux. Let’s see who Kleio is up against in this first round contest."
KDS is as interested in the answer to this question as anyone, and paces back and forth in the ring whilst staring at the stage…
{CHALK OUTLINE || THREE DAYS GRACE}[MEDIA=youtube]8AKF-wfmNAI[/MEDIA]
The crowd has their curiosity piqued by this semi-familiar music… and then go crazy when none other than ‘the Heretic’ Dan Maskell appears on-stage! The initial reaction is of surprise and excitement, but this quickly descends into boos when Maskell walks out onto the stage with a scowl on his face.
Natalie Rosenberg: "And her opponent… from Essex, England and weighing in at 234 pounds… ‘the Heretic’... DAN… MAAAAASKEEEELL!"
The Heretic surveys the audience and then spits derisively onto the floor. He begins his walk down the ramp, loosening up with his eyes fixed upon the woman in the ring.
Anzu Kurosawa: "Dan Maskell is here at the King of the Deathmatch tournament!! One of only two triple crown winners in CWA history is making his way to the ring! And just listen to this noise - a maelstrom of hate - being conjured up by just a few hundred people!"
Thomas West: "Yuna Funanori in match one, and now Dan Maskell in match two! The surprises keep on coming!"
Maskell wastes no time in sliding beneath the bottom rope, getting in KDS’ face to offer some barbs whilst the official tells him to get back into his corner. After he finally acquiesces, the referee issues some final instructions, and then finally calls for the bell…
 
MATCH TWO
Dan Maskell vs. Kleio De Santos.
X Rules Deathmatch.
Round One.
<< 00:00 >>
The two circle the ring, Maskell laughing and shaking his head to himself at a private joke, and then bring it in for a collar and elbow tie-up…
***
<< 04:10 >>
After an initial feeling out process which KDS got the better of and promptly rolled out of the ring to find some weaponry, we see Dan Maskell follow her out and hit a boot to the midsection as she reaches for a table. Maskell takes her out at the knees with a dropkick, applies a front facelock, and connects with a snap DDT onto the hard desert floor on the outside! He finishes the job for Kleio, collecting the table she was reaching for and throwing it under the bottom rope to be set up later. He goes fishing under the ring, collecting a steel chair wrapped in barbed wire, much to the enjoyment of the watching fans…
Thomas West: "Here comes the hardware! Dan Maskell taking things hardcore in the opening exchanges!"
Anzu Kurosawa: "I was wondering how long it would be until the more creative weaponry made an appearance… a steel chair wrapped in barbed wire! How delightful!!"
Maskell throws the steel chair into the ring after the table, and then refocuses on Kleio. She has been busy recuperating, and has a lighttube in her hands… Maskell reaches for her, and she ducks beneath his grasp, the Heretic backed up against the barricade. She attempts to bring the tube down over his head, but Maskell dives out of the way! The lighttube smashes against the barricade, shards of light flying in every direction! The front row fans shield their eyes as Maskell collects Kleio by the scruff of the neck and throws her into the steel ring steps!! She hits them shoulder-first with a crunch, and Maskell collects an adjacent lighttube… bringing it down over Kleio’s forehead with a crunch and a smash!!
Anzu Kurosawa: "First blood! Kleio is busted open!"
Thomas West: "She’s used to it!"
Not content with this, Maskell throws KDS back into the ring beneath the bottom rope and slides in afterwards. With De Santos licking her wounds on the mat, Maskell first looks at the table, and then at the barbed wire wrapped chair… before slapping on a reverse chin lock!!
***
<< 07:25 >>
Dan Maskell has been driving his advantage, though it's fair to say that he has mostly indulged in restholds since we last saw him, but now he has KDS grounded after a powerslam followed by a rope-hung DDT. He has already set the table up in the corner, and now he gets his hands on the barbed wire chair. He holds it aloft, the fans booing him as he tees KDS up. De Santos, already a bloody mess from her exploits so far, gets to her feet and stumbles round to face the Heretic… who brings the chair crashing down over KDS's head!
Anzu Kurosawa: "A sickening this! Kleio De Santos has taken a lot of punishment over the last five minutes or so, and Dan Maskell isn't done there!"
Indeed, the Heretic holds Kleio's face off the mat by the hair with one hand, and then with the other he begins to grind the barbed wire around the chair across her forehead! This exacerbates the wounds even further, blood now flowing freely from the gash. Maskell drops the chair to the floor and then drags De Santos up to her feet…
Thomas West: "Dan Maskell with a cutter! Right onto the barbed wire chair!!"
Anzu Kurosawa: "That move hurt Maskell too, whose shoulder and back landed on that barbed wire as well… but it's Kleio who gets the worst of it! And now The Heretic goes for the cover…"
ONE… TWO… THR – NO!
Kleio gets a shoulder up, and Maskell - hesitant to let her rest - goes right back to his reverse chin lock…
***
<< 10:52 >>
Dan Maskell has transitioned his rest hold into a sleeper, and for a while it seemed as though KDS might have been fading out. But she gets a second wind with the audience cheering her on and begins to fight up to her feet. She reels off with a series of elbows, looking to gain separation, but Maskell clings on and transitions to a side headlock, and then a rear waistlock. He backs up towards the table set up at an angle in the corner, maybe thinking about hitting a German suplex on Kleio through the roof…
… but De Santos stamps down on his foot!! Maskell is forced to relinquish the hold, and Kleio turns to face him…
Anzu Kurosawa: "She's biting him!! Kleio De Santos is biting Dan Maskell!!"
Maskell wrenches his forehead from between KDS' teeth, almost stumbling backwards through the table in the process, and then turns to face De Santos. She nearly bowls him over with a torrent of strikes: forearms, elbow strikes, a jumping roundhouse kick, and then a Superman punch that backs Maskell up towards the table.
Thomas West: "Kleio De Santos backs away slightly, and - despite the loss of blood - is looking very nimble on her feet… SPEAR!!"
Anzu Kurosawa: "But Kleio isn't going for the cover! She instead drags Maskell out of the debris and applies a front facelock. She's backing up towards that barbed wire chair…"
Thomas West: "Letters to Kleio!! Onto the barbed wire!! But still no cover!"
Anzu Kurosawa: "That's a kimura lock!! Kleio De Santos has a kimura lock on Dan Maskell in the middle of the ring!!"
The crowd are going crazy, KDS a sudden fan favourite as The Heretic squirms and writhes in the submission…
… and then he taps out!!!
{RESULT}Winner: Kleio De Santos by submission at 12:59.
Thomas West: "She got him! Dan Maskell submits!! Kleio De Santos is through to Stage Two!"
As Dan Maskell rolls out of the ring to lick his wounds, Kleio rises to her feet - her face a crimson mask - and allows her hand to be raised in victory by the official.
Natalie Rosenberg: "Here is your winner… Kleio De Santos!!"
KDS snatches her hand back and climbs out of the ring, where she walks - with a little bit of staggering after the blood loss - up the ramp.
Anzu Kurosawa: "KDS is our second combatant through into the latter stages of KODM2, but that was a bloody and brutal way for her to start her campaign."
Thomas West: "I said it before the match and I'll say it again now: she's used to it. Kleio De Santos has been through this before in last year's tournament, and although it didn't quite work out for her in 2022, she's likely not to come up against an utter freak of nature like she did in last year's final. Kleio knows how to deal with pain, and I don't see this pursuit coming to an end any time soon."
De Santos pauses at the top of the ramp, next to the podium, where she observes the Crown of Thorns. We fade away from the scene.
We once again cut to footage from earlier in the day as a black Land Rover Discovery arrives in the desert. The back door opens, and none other than Bellatrix Bordeaux comes rushing out, pulling a black sack off her head, before leaning forward and vomiting her guts up. After a few moments of violent sounding spewing, Trixie seems to have gotten it all out, as she stands with her hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath. Eventually, Trixie stands up straight and wipes her mouth in her sleeve. Looking extremely anxious and on edge as she looks around at her surrounding, seeing the wrestling ring set up nearby. She stares at the ring for a moment with a look of trepidation as her over-imaginative mind mulls over all of the possible, and likely painful outcomes of the coming conflict. She takes another deep breath, before noticing FWA interviewer Katie Baxter standing nearby with a microphone in hand and a pleasant smile on her face as she waves to Trixie, before gesturing for her to come over. With Katie seeming like a nice enough person, Trixie answers her summon..
Katie Baxter: "Hello, Trixie!"
Katie cheerfully greets the young woman as she arrives at the interview area.
Bellatrix Bordeaux: "Uh, h-hello…"
Trixie says nervously.
Bellatrix Bordeaux: "… what’s your name?"
Katie Baxter: "My name’s Katie. I’m an interviewer for FWA. Do you mind if I ask you a couple of questions about the tournament and whatnot?"
Bellatrix Bordeaux: "Um, I-I guess so…"
Trixie responds, her voice a little shaky from the nerves, and the fact that she just spewed her guts up.
Katie Baxter: "Great. So, just stand here, next to me, and we’ll begin, alright?"
Bellatrix Bordeaux: "O-okay…"
Trixie says as Katie grasps her biceps with her hands and gently manoeuvres Trixie into position, before turning to face the camera as it zooms in on Katie’s face.
Katie Baxter: "Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome my guest at this time…Bellatrix Bordeaux."
The camera zooms out, revealing the nervous young woman as she’s trying to figure out if she should look and Katie or the camera.
Katie Baxter: "So, Trixie, first off, welcome to the King of the Deathmatch Tournament! We’ve known that you were due to compete in this tournament ever since Back in Town, and you’ve had a lot of success in the KODM preview matches we’ve seen on Fallout 026 and 027. Your victories in both of those matches, though, were perhaps a little overshadowed by events after the match, with both of those tag team contests seeing XYZ and Death Walker engaged in altercations. You have also been embroiled in these after-the-bell incidents, often standing with X against the advances of Death Walker. Are you worried that these sideshows may have distracted you from your preparations for the tournament?"
As Katie directs the microphone towards Trixie, the young woman flinches slightly, before realising that Katie in fact isn’t trying to hit her in the face with it. Taking a second to compose herself, she begins to answer.
Bellatrix Bordeaux: "Oh, um…I-...uh, I think that…Mr Walker is a big meanie, and…he should stop bullying my friends."
Trixie says, a matter of factly.
Katie Baxter: "Okay, that seems fair, I suppose…"
Katie says, glossing over the fact that Trixie hadn’t really answered her question.
Katie Baxter: "Another man who will be entering the tournament is one you know very well, particularly as you went one-on-one with him at Back in Town. I’m talking about Reagan Cole, who came out on top of that particular encounter. Hoping for any revenge over ‘The British Apprentice’ here in the desert?"
Hearing the name of the man who beat her up a few months ago, and has since taken part in bullying her backstage, Trixie’s eyes widen with anger, overriding her nerves slightly.
Bellatrix Bordeaux: "I’m going to punch him in the pee-pee."
Trixie says bluntly, as Katie chuckles slightly at Trixie’s word choice.
Katie Baxter: "Yup, I suppose that would be a good measure of revenge…okay, I have one more question. As you’ve shown on several occasions during your time in FWA, you seem to value friendship above pretty much everything, and so I ask…what does Bellatrix Bordeaux do if she were put in a situation where she would have to fight someone that she considers a friend, like, say…XYZ, or Kleio De Santos, or Sawyer Xavier?"
Hearing this, Trixie’s nerves and trepidation returns in full force as she imagines the scenario that Katie had just laid out.
Bellatrix Bordeaux: "U-uh, I-..."
Trixie stops, unable to find the words as her heartrate and breathing quickens, looking as though she’s about to go into a panic.
Katie Baxter: "Uh, are you alright, Trixie?"
The interviewer asks, concerned.
Bellatrix Bordeaux: "I-...Uh, I’v-..."
As she attempts to speak, we hear a wretching noise coming from the young lady, before her hand shoots to her mouth and her eyes widen in panic, before…
Bellatrix Bordeaux: "BLARGHHHHH!"
…and Katie Baxter is covered in what used to be the contents of Trixie’s stomach.
Seeing that she’d just spewed all over Katie, who had been perfectly nice to her since the moment they met, all those 2 or 3 minutes ago, Trixie attempts to apologise…
Bellatrix Bordeaux: "I’m Sorr-..."
…
Katie Baxter: "BLARGHHHHHHH"
…and Katie, her face in utter shock, is hit by another batch of puke.
Trixie, not wanting to bury the poor interviewer in Trixie juice, makes a b-line for any area that Katie isn’t, before we hear more ‘BLARGHs’ coming from off camera. Katie, spew covered and looking as though she’s about to throw up herself, raises the mic, which as also felt the wrath of Trixie’s stomach, to her mouth.
Katie Baxter: "I-..."
She says, as the scent wafts up her nose, causing her to heave slightly, but doing a better job that Trixie at holding it back.
Katie Baxter: "B-back to r-r-ringside."
Katie says, professional to the last, as the scene fades…
Katie Baxter: "BLARGHHHH!!!"
***
Once more, we are in the desert and under the late morning sun, this time as a red ‘88 Toyota Tercel rolls into shot. Katie is still here and clutching her microphone (her face re-applied following the incident with Trixie), and watches on as both the front driver and passenger side doors open. Reagan Cole steps out first, and appears to be psyching himself up as he surveys the makeshift arena in the wilderness. Out of the opposite side of the car emerged Jeffry Mason, who appears to be the first to notice the interviewer standing by.
Jeffry Mason: "Have you been here all morning? I hope you're wearing sunscreen."
Katie Baxter: "Reagan Cole… Jeffry Mason… welcome to the King of the Deathmatch tournament. We expected to see 'the British Apprentice' here today, but a company memo dictated that all tournament entrants are to come here alone. Care to explain your presence here at Reagan's side?"
Mason allows himself a smirk at the interviewer's question. He doesn't seem the least bit concerned about company memos.
Jeffry Mason: "Reagan told me. I'd like to know exactly who it is that thinks they're going to stop actual deathmatch royalty from being at the King of the Deathmatch. I intend to witness Reagan's big moment on this grand, bloody stage. We are a team, after all…"
Baxter doesn't seem to be quite convinced by Mason's response but, ever the pro, she goes on with the show.
Katie Baxter: "Reagan, this might be your first appearance at a King of the Deathmatch tournament, but it's certainly not your first deathmatch experience here in the FWA. I intended to ask you about this classic Back in Business encounter and its implications for the KODM, even when I thought you'd be coming here alone. With both of you here, I'm curious to know if that match-up, as well as Jeffery's extensive deathmatch experience on the whole, has helped prepare you for this tournament?"
Reagan looks as though he’s about to respond, but Mason beats him to it.
Jeffry Mason: "Do you actually think I would have pushed for him to be in King of the Deathmatch if I didn’t know he’d be ready for this shit?"
Reagan Cole: "Yeah, you know I’m ready for this because I beat YOU at Back in Business."
Jeffry Mason: "And what a glorious war we had. On that night, you beat THE deathmatch god. How many people in this tournament besides Reagan Cole can say that in their list of accomplishments? No one. Hell, I’ve been doing this shit for longer than most of these competitors have been alive, and you bet your sweet ass the amount of ultraviolent knowledge I’ve passed on to Reagan is more than half these people will learn in their pathetic lives."
Baxter is slightly taken aback by Mason’s vitriol, but - professional as ever - she brushes it off and continues.
Katie Baxter: "One woman who will also be here today for Stage One is Trixie Bordeaux, a woman you know very well, Reagan, both inside and out of the FWA. Most recently, you triumphed over Bordeaux at Back in Town. I had the chance to speak to Trixie earlier today, and asked her about her run-ins with you, Reagan Cole. She said, and I quote… ‘I’m going to punch him in the face’. Any thoughts in response?"
Even Reagan has a sneer for this quote. Mason winces at the perceived idiocy, shaking his head as Reagan responds.
Reagan Cole: "I think I know now to avoid getting punched in the face? I don’t know, what do you want from me? I’ve beaten her before and if it comes down to it tonight, I’ll beat her again, so she better hope that she doesn’t even have the chance to punch me in the face. Simple as that."
Cole folds his arms, content with his response and not willing to offer any more.
Katie Baxter: "Three weeks ago on Fallout 027, Reagan, we saw you compete in a losing effort against Chris Peacock. Many were impressed by your performance, even in defeat. What has eighteen and a bit minutes in the ring with the FWA World Champion taught you, especially going into this tournament for a different prize, one currently held by Peacock's partner in Alyster Black?"
Reagan Cole: "What’s the old saying? You learn more through one loss than from a hundred wins? If I learned anything from facing the World Champ, it’s that it’s where I belong. Reagan Cole is a main event star. Over the past five-hundred or so days, Alyster Black has arguably turned the X Championship into an even greater prize than the World Championship. I won’t kid myself or you Katie, it’s not going to be an easy road. But at the end of Stage 2, not only am I gonna stand tall with that crown and title, but it will be the beginning of an even more prestigious run than the one Alyster has had."
Jeffry Mason: "Damn right. Now enough questions, Katie. Reagan has some preparing to do. And I need to find out what kind of catering they have in this place so I can enjoy this night of bloodshed in style. Maybe some desert desserts, even!"
Cole and Mason walk out of the shot, leaving Katie alone to be disgruntled at the conversation’s trajectory.
The Fantasy Wrestling Alliance proudly presents…
CARNAL CONTENDERSHIP, 2023.
LIVE! … Sunday, April 30th, 2023 …
… from the Bridgestone Arena in Nashville, Tennessee …
- only on the WCNetwork -
featuring…
The Connection [c] vs. The Buddy System. FWA Tag Titles.
The 30-person Carnal Contendership Match. FWA World Title - #1C.
{ONE HEADLIGHT || THE WALLFLOWERS}[MEDIA=youtube]Zzyfcys1aLM[/MEDIA]
There’s a loud cheer around the make-shift arena as the wildly unconventional but wildly popular XYZ appears on the stage. He looks around at his audience appreciatively before beginning his strut down towards the ring.
Natalie Rosenberg: "Introducing your first wrestler in today’s third X Rules Deathmatch… weighing in at one hundred and eighty pounds… from Sitka, Alaska… X… Y… Z!!"
Thomas West: "Another veteran of KODM tournaments, XYZ - like Kleio De Santos - was involved in last year’s bloody extravaganza on the Granary. I wonder what happened to that island?"
Anzu Kurosawa: "I imagine it’s still there. XYZ was in fact eliminated from last year’s tournament by KDS, and - with the Boa Constrictor safely through to Stage Two - will no doubt be hoping to settle that score in 2023’s later stages."
Thomas West: "This year, though, that stolen interview time hasn’t been XYZ’s main priority. Instead, he’s been plagued by Death Walker, who has seemingly taken something of a shine to XYZ. That’s right, Anzu. I did my research."
X stands in the ring, limbering up in the corner with a boot cocked up on the top rope whilst he stretches. His music fades out, and his attention turns to the stage, just in time for…
{THE DEMON’S CAROL || BLAQKOUT}[MEDIA=youtube]kHYdLveMYxc[/MEDIA]
Anzu Kurosawa: "… seemed almost inevitable!!"
Death Walker walks out onto the stage, alone, to a chorus of boos from those present in the desert. He pays them no mind. They are of no consequence to him. He instead marches down the ramp, his focus directed at the man in the ring and him alone.
Natalie Rosenberg: "… weighing in at two hundred and forty three pounds… from the depths of HELL… he is ‘The Dark Traveller’... DEATH WALKER!!"
Anzu Kurosawa: "You mentioned Death Walker’s fixation on XYZ, with the newcomer going so far as to choke X out on Fallout 026 in Washington DC. XYZ attempted to extract a modicum of revenge three weeks ago in Detroit, but tonight he’ll finally get the opportunity to do that in this match… where anything is legal!"
Thomas West: "That works both ways though, Anzu! Death Walker has shown himself to be a dab hand when it comes to violence, and I dread to think what we’ll see from him in this sort of match-up. XYZ has his hands full. Shame. Any space adventurer gets a thumbs up from me."
Death Walker climbs through the ropes and, completely ignoring the referee, charges across it to smash XYZ in the corner with a clothesline! Death lays in with right forearms and then kicks to the midsection, the official forced to call for the opening bell after the impromptu start to the match…
 
MATCH THREE
Death Walker vs. XYZ.
X Rules Deathmatch.
Round One.
<< 03:01. >>
After opening exchanges that seem even, Death Walker utilising his heavy hands and XYZ his unconventional strikes, Death manages to get the upper hand what he knocks the tightrope walking X off his perch as he attempts to traverse the top rope. Death accomplishes this by throwing himself into the ropes, causing X to land split legged over the top one. Death proceeds to roll under the bottom rope and collect a chair. With XYZ still straddling the top rope, Walker throws his chair at him, connecting with X's head with a sickening thud!
Anzu Kurosawa: "Death Walker just hurls that steel chair at XYZ, who falls into a heap at Death Walker's feet!"
Thomas West: "Not where he wants to be…"
Death goes under the ring and collects a pair of lighttubes and proceeds to stalk XYZ around the ring. When X is crawling on his hands and knees, Death brings the first tube down over his back! X writhes in pain but fights up to his feet on adrenaline alone… which allows Death to bring the second tube down over his forehead!! XYZ stumbled and falls down at the foot of the ramp, with Death following up with a backdrop suplex onto the steel structure!
Not content there, Death Walker searches under the ring, producing a black canvas bag. The audience cheers as he places it into the ring.
Anzu Kurosawa: "I think the audience knows exactly what is in that bag! Things aren't boding well for XYZ!"
Thomas West: "This Death Walker really holds a grudge, huh?"
***
<< 06:15. >>
Death Walker has followed XYZ up the ramp with steps, and then hoists him up on the stage before rocking him with a pair of headbutts. Death hoists X up to his feet before throwing him across the stage with a capture suplex!
Anzu Kurosawa: "I get the impression that Death Walker could probably go for the pin right now and get pretty close… but he has more in store for XYZ."
Thomas West: "Well, he did bring out a bag of thumb tacks. Would be odd for him to pin X before he uses them."
Death seems to agree, and he proceeds to drag XYZ up to his feet in a front face lock, perhaps looking to hit a spike DDT on the stage… but X drops to knee to block it, and then hoists Death up and over with a Northern Lights suplex! XYZ bridges for the cover!
ONE… TWO… NO!
Death Walker gets the shoulder up, but X tries to seize the shift in momentum. He hoists Death up by the scruff of the neck and hurls him down the ramp, Death stumbling and falling as XYZ collects a large ladder from nearby. He puts it up on his shoulder as Walker fights back to his feet… and X runs through him with the ladder!! The end of it clatters with Walker's head and he's sent sprawling to the bottom of the ramp!
Thomas West: "A bludgeoning impact for Death Walker! But XYZ isn't pressing home his advantage, instead deciding to set that ladder up on the ramp."
Anzu Kurosawa: "Perhaps that's precisely how XYZ intends to press home his advantage!"
Once he's got the ladder, which appears to be a fifteen footer, set up on the ramp, he proceeds to climb up one side of it, sitting on the top of it with his feet a few rungs down. Death Walker has staggered up to his feet, far down below, as XYZ stands up straight… and then decides to climb up one more ring... before leaping off the top with a flying cross-body!! He crashed into XYZ as the ladder teeters and falls, the fans beneath it by the ramp scattering out of its path. The rest of them are losing their mind as XYZ drapes an arm over Death in a cover…
ONE… TWO… THR – NO!!
Anzu Kurosawa: "Unbelievable aerial attack from XYZ… but Death Walker is still in it!"
XYZ rolls away from Death Walker, clutching his ribs, sucking in oxygen as he prepares to continue…
***
<< 10:41. >>
The action has returned to the ring, where XYZ has collected a pair of lighttubes as well as a bundle of them (the same half-dozen arrangement that we saw earlier in the day). He returns the favour from previously in the match, bringing the two individual lighttubes down over Death Walker's head! Both men are bloody, X from the tubes and Death from the ladder, but Walker defiantly remains on his feet!
Thomas West: "Death Walker is showing some resilience and some moxey, here, but I'm not sure what that's going to do against a bundle of lighttubes…"
X has collected said bundle and props it up against Death, who is still on his knees and unable to move… before running through the tubes and Death with a vicious knee strike!! The bundle of tubes explodes on impact as Death crumples to the mat! X slumps into a cover…
ONE… TWO… THR – NO!
Anzu Kurosawa: "Still, Death Walker finds a way to kick out!"
Thomas West: "Is this guy even human?!"
X, whilst staring down at Death's bloody and bruised body amongst the broken shards of glass, senses he might need one more move to finish him off. He climbs up to the top, movement slow after the hard-fought match, before once again beginning a tightrope walk across the top rope. X goes for his somersault leg drop… NOBODY HOME!! XYZ lands on the broken shards! Death Walker is up to his feet, and he quickly boots X in the midsection before planting him into the shards with a snap DDT!
Thomas West: "Brutal!!"
Anzu Kurosawa: "Gloriously so!"
Thomas West: "But still we see no cover attempt from Death Walker… he's collecting his little black bag!"
Despite the dynamic in the match, the crowd cheers as Death Walker opens up his bag and, onto the pile of scattered shards of broken lighttubes already on the mat, he pours out thousands upon thousands of thumbtacks!
Anzu Kurosawa: "Death Walker is NOT messing around!!"
X, to his credit, is up to his hands and knees, and Death helps him up the rest of the way. He places XYZ in a sleeper before dragging him towards the tacks and glass…
Anzu Kurosawa: "BEDTIME STORY!! INTO THE TACKS!!"
Thomas West: "An ugly high angle sleeper suplex for XYZ! His face and chest land in that barbaric debris! But still no cover!"
Anzu Kurosawa: "Death Walker has a rear naked choke locked in!! I think he's trying to put XYZ out again!"
Thomas West: "I think he already has! The referee is calling for the bell!!"
{RESULT}Winner: Death Walker by knockout at 13:56.
After the brutal end to the match, Death keeps the move locked in for a few more seconds before rising to his feet. He unceremoniously kicks X beneath the bottom rope and into a heap on the floor.
Natalie Rosenberg: "Here is your winner… DEATH WALKER!!"
The official considers raising Death Walker's hand in victory, but the glare that he receives from the winner stops him from doing so.
Thomas West: "Do you think Death Walker will now finally see this particular score as settled?"
Anzu Kurosawa: "I think it was settled weeks ago, Thomas. This rivalry between these two has been utterly one-sided, and Death just put the exclamation mark on things here today."
Thomas West: "And, perhaps most importantly, progresses to Stage Two. Quite a few of the tournament's entrant's have had run-ins with Death Walker recently, but I'm not sure many will be hoping to be drawn against him in the quarter finals…"
As Death Walker stalks up the ramp, we fade away from the scene.
We once again cut to earlier in the day, as yet another vehicle arrives in the desert. This time, we see an Uber pull up near Todd Salum, who waits patiently with his microphone. Madison Gray emerged from the vehicle, a serious look on her face that suggests she has some understanding of the gravity of her current situation. She nods in the direction of Salum, who positions himself within the frame next to her.
Todd Salum: "Madison, you have only been a part of the Fantasy Wrestling Alliance for two short months, but already you've taken part in a ladder match and now have been preparing to enter this bloodbath of a tournament. Something of a baptism of fire for the start of your pro-wrestling career?"
There is a stern and focused countenance on Madison's face as she addresses Salum’s question.
Madison Gray: "I feel like I've walked through scorched earth. This company - this has been a real shock to system, and I've accepted that this journey is going to really hurt. If I was to compare my career to climbing up Everest, I haven't even left base camp and already I am bleeding in my boots."
After listening carefully and nodding along thoughtfully to Gray’s response, Salum shapes up for his follow-up question.
Todd Salum: "Three weeks ago in your second King of the Deathmatch preview match, you tasted defeat in a triple threat, with Death Walker pinning Sawyer Xavier to pick up the win. Given that you weren't involved in that climactic pinfall, are you hoping for revenge here in this tournament? Or perhaps you have your sights on Trixie Bordeaux, who pinned you last month on Fallout 026 in trios action?"
Madison Gray: "This tournament is about proving to everyone else - that I can stand on my own two feet. Do I have my eyes set on Trixie? Honestly, I don't think I can even come close to comparing myself to her. Nor someone like Death Walker either. Sawyer Xavier though? Sausage X. I wouldn't mind finding myself standing opposite him when this tournament kicks off and if I can leave with just one win - I'd like it to be against him. And if I don't get to face him - maybe management will get me a future match with that little fella."
The thought of getting her hands on Sawyer seems to please her, even if we - the audience - know that this won’t be possible at this tournament. She walks out of shot, Salum watching her leave before we fade out.
***
We cut to more footage from earlier in the day, as we watch from over Katie Baxter’s shoulder in a wide shot of the desert. Upon the horizon, we can see a lonely and distant figure, which looks as if it might be walking towards us but it’s so remote that we can’t really be sure. A series of jump cuts follow, the figure getting larger and larger until we can make out the tall, slender frame of weaselperson. He is foregoing the various forms of transportation that the other arriving combatants have favoured in earlier similar segments, instead apparently walking across the desert to the competition, perhaps in the hopes of warming up (or staying warmed up) ahead of his first bout. He doesn’t seem particularly out of breath as he finally comes to a halt next to Baxter, who is holding her microphone at the ready.
As weaselperson waits patiently for his first question, Katie lets out a deep and reluctant sigh.
Katie Baxter: "weaselperson, you made it somewhat clear three weeks ago on Meltdown XXVII that your intention was to become the fastest Grand Slam champion in FWA history, and on Fallout two days later you announced for this very tournament. Is the X Championship the first step on that path you alluded to?"
weaselperson: "Bark."
A pause for Katie, as she thinks through her next steps. She’s been here before. She’d tried to be prepared. Asked for an animal interpreter ahead of time. It was disappointing to find out that such a thing didn’t exist. She didn’t really have much of a choice but to proceed in much the same way as she had previously, ignoring Einstein’s advice about insanity.
Katie Baxter: "You overcame Logan Darwin in Detroit in your debut match here in the FWA, and we know that ‘the Reaper’ will also be in attendance here this weekend for the KODM. Bark if you’re hoping that you and Darwin will be afforded the chance to rekindle your rivalry."
weaselperson says nothing. He blinks at Baxter, who holds the microphone in front of him for a few moments of stony silence.
Katie Baxter: "Are we to understand that you’re looking to expand your horizons here in the FWA? To face new competition in your pursuits of legendary status as the fastest Grand Slam champion in history?"
Once more, a momentary silence lingers between the pair. weaselperson continues to stare rather blankly at the interviewer.
Katie Baxter: "Am I to infer that it doesn’t matter who stands between you and the Crown of Thorns and, perhaps more importantly, the FWA X Championship tonight? The array of men and women who you will face in the four rounds on your path to glory is interchangeable, but the result is a rare constant?"
weaselperson: "Bark. Bark… Bark. Bark. Bark."
Baxter, after nodding along thoughtfully, turns to face the camera.
Katie Baxter: "Well, you heard it here first."
*****
Later on but still earlier in the day, we see a silver Toyota Corolla arrive at the desert and pull up near the temporary warehousing unit being used for the backstage area. Todd Salum is lingering nearby and watches on as the door opens and 'the Wildcard' Jason Randall emerges from it. Randall surveys the makeshift arena in this desolate place, sighs, and then collects his gear bag from the trunk. He notes Salum and nods in the interviewer's direction, who takes this as permission to begin.
Todd Salum: "Jason Randall, welcome to the King of the Deathmatch tournament… a setting that many have pointed out may be very well-suited to you and your particular talents – how are you feeling ahead of your debut in FWA's deathmatch extravaganza?"
Randall, unlike the majority of the participants that we’ve already seen arrive today, looks somewhat comfortable with his current surroundings.
Jason Randall: "How am I feeling? I don't know. I guess I feel like I'm at home. Which would sound odd to the average person, but as we know, I'm far from the average person. I guess I feel like I belong here. Last year I didn't get to participate due to some bullshit reasoning, but this year I get to right that wrong and show everyone what was missing."
Admiring his interviewee’s confidence, Salum smiles at Randall as he asks his (rather long-winded) follow-up question.
Todd Salum: "We last saw you on pay-per-view as part of ‘Back in Town’, where you challenged for the FWA Television Championship alongside Death Walker, something of a rival of yours, who is also expected here in the desert for this weekend’s tournament. Since then, you’ve also tangled with Bellatrix Bordeaux and Kleio De Santos, with XYZ as your partner, in one of the preview matches on Fallout 027. Trixie scored the pinfall over yourself in that one, but Death Walker again made his presence felt in the aftermath. Are you hoping to get your hands on any of these opponents - or indeed partners - that have accompanied your path to this tournament?"
Jason gives the question some thought, the field - and particularly those he has (recent) history with - passing through his mind.
Jason Randall: “Death Walker is one man in particular that I have some unfinished business with. The man tried to take away my livelihood when he locked me in that submission, and damn near ripped my leg off. He didn't finish the job though, I'm still standing, barely but I'm standing and that's unfortunate for Death Walker. That's unfortunate for anyone that stands in my way of winning this tournament and walking away with the big prize."
‘The Wildcard’ traces the line of an invisible championship belt around his waist, signifying his intent for the weekend.
Todd Salum: "We’ve mentioned that this is your first King of the Deathmatch tournament, and therefore your first run at the Crown of Thorns… but it’s not your first experience of this weekend’s other prize. The FWA X Championship is a belt you’ve held and know very well: what does that championship mean to ‘the Wildcard’, and do you have any thoughts on current champion Alyster Black’s now record-breaking run with the title?"
Jason Randall: “I'd be lying if I said I didn't respect Alyster Black. There's not many people in this company I respect, as a matter of fact it's a pretty short list, but fortunately for Alyster he's on that list. That being said, I'd love nothing more than to be the one to end this historic run he's been on. I am no stranger to the X Championship, it was a championship I held very near and dear to my heart once upon a time. It was the last time I ever held gold in this company. I saved that championship from obscurity after I pried it off the hands of that scumbag Vincent Blackbird and I'd love nothing more than to hold it again. I don't just want to win this, I need this. I need this as if my life depended on it, because honestly the way I see it, my life does depend on it."
For Jason Randall, the time for talk is over. He walks out of shot and we fade to black as Salum watches his exit.
We cut to an area of the back, somewhere near the medical bay, where Katie Baxter is standing by with one of our early winners of the day. ‘The Boa Constrictor’ Kleio De Santos stands next to her, bandages stained with blood around her shoulder and stitches clear upon her head.
Katie Baxter: "One of three competitors already through to Stage Two of the King of the Deathmatch is the woman standing next to me right now. Kleio, you will compete in tomorrow’s quarter-finals, and a victory in that round will see you become the person with the most wins in KODM history. You wear the battle-wounds of your earlier match plainly… is this where that deathmatch experience will come in handy?"
De Santos lets a silence linger. She looks at Baxter with narrowed eyes. It appears that she isn’t really in the mood for discussing the history books, despite the suggested topic being her place within it.
Thomas West: "I’m not sure I like that record…"
Anzu Kurosawa: "Should’ve entered, buddy."
Kleio De Santos: "Deathmatch experience... so, because I’ve bled before, you all know that I can bleed again? I guess there’s some truth in that. I know what it is to battle through. I knew that before I ever set foot on The Granary. This year’s tournament has started off at quite the pace. I told you that I feared the unknown competitors in this tournament, and already that has been validated. Dan Maskell is a horrible human being… but his propensity towards and skill at violence is well-known. It is the mark he’s left on this industry. But that mark is small and insignificant. Blotted out by my own. Katie, this has only just begun…"
Despite the war-wounds evident on her body, KDS is smiling.
Katie Baxter: "Earlier today, you told me that you have nothing to fear from XYZ… and this was vindicated by his first round exit against Death Walker. Death has been impressive since his debut here in the FWA, you have to be wondering about a potential encounter in the latter stages…"
De Santos’ smile persists. It appears news of her old rival’s demise pleases her.
Kleio De Santos: "Unsurprising, really. Part of me had hoped I could’ve settled the score for Rio. That experience still burns, you know? But that will have to be another –"
* SQUAWK! *
Kleio’s momentum on the microphone is abruptly halted by the rather obnoxious noise of a rather obnoxious bird. This interruption is compounded by the red parrot’s arrival upon De Santos’ shoulder, and then compounded further still by the entrance into the shot of a steady line of people. As you may have guessed, we see Yuna Funanori, Oliver Corsair, Salvador Mendoza, Peg Leg Ned, Bad Henry, and ‘Jolly’ Roger, all of whom are beholding Kleio with wide smiles (many displaying gold teeth, or gaps where teeth should have been).
Yuna Funanori: "We come with congratulations, matey! Already, the chance of a Queen of the High Seas has grown great! I can smell it in the water, hear it on the wind, taste it in the muffins. Have you tried the muffins in catering? Good muffins."
Oliver Corsair: “Good muffins."
Salvador Mendoza: ”Not bad at all."
Kleio, up to this point, has remained silent and unmoved but for a few perplexed blinks.
Kleio De Santos: "Careful, matey. The last person who interrupted my interview time lived to regret it!"
Yuna lets out a burst of laughter, and then throws an arma round Kleio. With her hand on her shoulder, Patches squawks again and flutters out of the way, coming to rest once more on De Santos’ other shoulder.
Yuna Funanori: "Nonsense! Time is to be shared! That’s what this weekend is all about! The friends we make, and the time we share with them."
Still perplexed by the entire scene, Kleio wrenches herself away from Yuna’s grip. Funanori, only now, takes the hint. KDS glares at her with fire in her eyes.
Kleio De Santos: "I hope we get to spend some time together tomorrow."
With that, KDS skulks out of the scene. Yuna turns to her crew.
Yuna Funanori: "What exactly do people do for fun on land?"
{YOUR LOVE || FIRST TO ELEVEN}[MEDIA=youtube]VbTnsPL_e24[/MEDIA]
There’s a mixed reaction for Madison Gray as she walks out onto the stage. It is quite clear that she is plagued by apprehensions as she takes a deep breath. Ignoring the fans and the assembled weaponry around her, Gray walks down the ramp and towards the ring.
Natalie Rosenberg: "The first competitor in your fourth X Rules Deathmatch is from Portsmouth, England… weighing one hundred and twenty five pounds… ‘the Young Lioness’... MADISON… GRAY!!"
Anzu Kurosawa: "Madison Gray put in impressive performances, indicative of one improving, in her KODM preview matches, tasting defeat in 026’s trios match and 027’s triple threat, where Death Walker covered Sawyer Xavier. Hopefully the former ‘the Young Lioness’ - now known as ‘PARASITE’ - can use these valuable learning experiences here in the desert."
Thomas West: "Madison Gray was the first to point out that this tournament is out of her comfort zone, but perhaps she can use the chaos of the deathmatch to her favour. Literally anything can happen, as we’ve seen already tonight. And chaos can be a rookie’s best friend."
Gray, still looking nervous but warming up nonetheless, waits in her corner and stares at the stage as her music fades out. Soon enough, it’s replaced by…
{ALONE || Jonathan Young & Lee Albrecht}[MEDIA=youtube]PZdWLDKISp8[/MEDIA]
There’s a groan in the desert as Reagan Cole walks out onto the stage… and, unlike every other combatant so far tonight (with the exception of Yuna, whose peculiar travel arrangements, perhaps, can explain that), he is not alone. He is flanked by Jeffry Mason, who pats Reagan on the shoulder before returning through the curtain and into the backstage area.
Natalie Rosenberg: "And her opponent… weighing in at two hundred and fifteen pounds… from Essex, England… ‘the British Apprentice’... REAGAN COLE!!"
Thomas West: "Reagan Cole and Jeffry Mason have already flouted the rules by having him here in the desert for moral support, and now he retreats to the back and expects us to believe that? Mason isn’t far away, mark my words."
Anzu Kurosawa: "Isn’t that a little like the pot and the kettle thing?"
Thomas West: "I never said there’s anything wrong with it… it stands the Apprentice in good stead, I’m sure. He made a good show of things against Boogie Baby on 027, and Mason’s advice will have no doubt been invaluable going into this tournament."
Anzu Kurosawa: "You think Reagan will win today?"
Thomas West: "God no."
Reagan Cole slides into the ring and keeps his eyes on Madison across it. He loosens up as his music fades out and the official conducts his final checks (for some reason, considering anything is legal) and then calls for the opening bell…
 
MATCH FOUR
Madison Gray vs. Reagan Cole.
X Rules Deathmatch.
Round One.
<< 02:21. >>
After the opening exchanges, Reagan Cole seizes control of the match when he throws Madison Gray into the turnbuckles with an exploder suplex, Gray landing at an ugly angle on the back of her head. The British Apprentice rolls under the bottom rope, collecting two steel chairs from ringside: one normal, and one wrapped in barbed wire (and, it seems, stained with Kleio’s blood from the earlier contest). He throws them both into the ring and follows in after them, lifting the recovering Gray to her feet and hurling her down onto the (barbed wire) chair with a tornado snap suplex!
Thomas West: "Reagan Cole is wasting absolutely no time at all here in the early going of this match. This is a mean streak I’m not sure we’re used to seeing from Cole…"
Anzu Kurosawa: "Perhaps the influence of Jeffry Mason that you mentioned before the match?"
Reagan, like a man possessed, drags Madison into position so that her head is atop the barbed wire chair, and then grasps the other one his hands. He looks down at Gray’s prone body, takes a few deep breaths, and then lifts the chair up, intending to bring it down onto Gray’s head… but Madison darts out of the way! Cole’s fingers get trapped between the chair and the barbed wire, forcing him to drop his weapon. The opening allows Madison to dive into the back of his knee with a chop block!
Reagan Cole fights up to his feet, and Madison picks up the discarded normal steel chair. She tosses it to Reagan, who instinctively catches it, only to eat a dropkick from Madison!! Reagan drops the chair and also drops to his knees, and Madison quickly picks up the other chair (the one wrapped in barbed wire) and simply flings it into Cole’s face!! He slumps to the mat, and Gray dives on him, hooking the far leg.
ONE… TWO… NO!
Cole gets the shoulder up, but the flurry of offence allows Madison Gray to take control of the match…
***
<< 05:44. >>
The action has spilled out onto the outside, and the Apprentice gets the better of an (ill-advised, for Madison) exchange of right hands. He connects with a dragon screw leg whip and then goes searching underneath the bottom rope. He produces a kendo stick, which he - along with the audience - doesn’t seem all that interested in, but next produces a staple gun that garners a fair bit more excitement. He leaves that on the apron and, with Gray using the barricade to support her weight, brings the kendo stick crashing down upon her a half-dozen times! The crowd winces with every strike, and Madison attempts to roll into the ring beneath the bottom rope.
Thomas West: "Madison Gray perhaps looking to escape Reagan here, at least for a few moments, but Cole won’t let her out of his sights…"
Indeed, Reagan grabs her when she is on the apron, and drags her legs behind the apron. He hits Madison with a headbutt and then collected the nearby staplegun… before stapling the apron onto Madison’s body!! He puts a dozen or so staples into her thighs and abdomen, attaching the apron to her! Reagan holds the gun up triumphantly, and then turns to try and put another staple into Gray’s head… but she rakes the eyes! Cole drops the gun, and Gray wrenches the apron away from her body, pulling all of the staples out. She collects the gun as Cole regains his vision… just in time for him to see her empty a half-dozen staples into his forehead!! He writhes around in agony, and Madison throws him beneath the bottom rope.
Anzu Kurosawa: "Reagan Cole getting a taste of his own medicine, and now it is Madison Gray’s turn to search beneath that ring apron - which was only a moment ago part of her clothing - for yet more weaponry!"
Madson first produces a steel chair, and then - to a gasp and then a cheer from the audience - a large glass pane about the size of the door. She slides this into the ring and then carefully sets it up in the corner, before teeing Reagan up for a huge chairshot across the top of the dome! Gray goes for the cover…
ONE… TWO… TH – NO!
Cole gets the shoulder up, and Madison goes back to work…
<< 09:25. >>
Gray is attempting a snap underhook suplex through the angled glass pane, but Reagan - close to the ropes - hooks onto the top one with an outstretched arm. Madison is forced to give up on her endeavour, and Cole quickly capitalises on the opportunity by firing into her with a half-dozen hard forearms… and then a neckbreaker onto his knee! He collects the two normal chairs introduced earlier in the match and sets them up in the middle of the ring, Madison still incapacitated following the neckbreaker, and then he sets up the glass pane atop the two folded out chairs.
Thomas West: "Now we’re talking creative! Reagan Cole is setting up for something nasty, here."
Cole takes Gray by the hair and places her near the glass pane in a front face lock, perhaps going for a snap suplex or brainbuster through the glass, but Gray drops to her knee to block it… and then fires into Cole with a trio of headbutts! Reagan is staggered, and it’s Madison’s turn to apply a front facelock.
Anzu Kurosawa: "Looks like Madison Gray is going for Her Majesty’s Naval Base here… if she hits HMNB through that glass pane, this one is over!"
Thomas West: "Doesn’t look like she can get him up, though…"
Indeed, and Reagan capitalises on the delay with some hard right hands to the ribs, the fourth of which causes separation… and then Cole slams into her with a bunch of headbutts of his own!! Madison is staggered, and turns around to face the glass. Reagan hits the ropes…
Anzu Kurosawa: "The Rhino’s Rage!!! Through the glass!!"
Cole hits the kitaro crusher, the sound of the glass smashing rising above the boisterous crowd. Gray lies face-down amongst the shards, and Reagan struggles to push her over onto her back to hook the leg…
ONE… TWO… THRE – NO!!
Anzu Kurosawa: "SHE KICKS OUT!! HOW DID MADISON GRAY KICK OUT?!"
Reagan Cole seems to be asking himself the same question. He looks at the official with a flabbergasted expression… before grabbing Gray’s leg and placing her in his patented heel hook!
Thomas West: "Fire In The Hole! Fire In The Hole!"
Anzu Kurosawa: "It’s the Fire of Cole..."
Thomas West: "Mine’s better! And either way, Madison Gray is tapping! This one’s over!!”
{RESULT}Winner: Reagan Cole by submission at 11:15.
Reagan Cole lets go of the submission immediately and climbs to his feet. There is blood on him, but it appears to be the blood of his opponent. He allows the official to lift his hand in victory.
Natalie Rosenberg: "Here is your winner… Reagan Cole!!"
Anzu Kurosawa: "The British Apprentice progresses through to Stage Two at the expense of PARASITE, with Cole looking impressive in that first round victory."
Thomas West: "Indeed he did. Cole seems to have been learning from a master, and speak of the Devil…"
Jeffry Mason walks out onto the stage as Cole walks up the ramp. The Saviour of Death has a smile on his face, and he welcomes the British Apprentice with an arm around his shoulder when he arrives on the stage. The two disappear through the curtain as we fade to black.
Once more, we cut to footage from earlier on in the day, with Todd Salum standing by as a black rented Ford Ranger arrives and comes to a halt in his vicinity. From out of the vehicle emerges Alyster Black, dressed in his (all black) street clothes and with his FWA X Championship slung over his shoulder. Black notices the interviewer loitering and approaches, as if resigned to the certain fate of being subjected to his questions.
Todd Salum: "Alyster, the tournament is finally upon us. You accepted this quite staggering challenge willingly: nineteen men and women all descending on this very place to try and take that championship away from you. With the record for the longest run with the X Championship now under your belt - a record that many thought would never be broken - what is your motivation to keep going, especially in the face of such overwhelming competition?"
Before answering, Alyster looks down at the championship belt sitting proudly upon his shoulder.
Alyster Black: "Record-breaking. It's been five hundred and fourteen days since I defeated Nate Savage in my hometown to win this belt. In some ways, that feels like only yesterday. In others, every single one of those twenty four hour periods felt like a lifetime. I don't need to stand here and list the names of people who have tried and failed to take this championship away from me. Other people have recited that list quite frequently as of late, every since my status as a record breaker became official. I'm more interested in the list of names that will come here tonight, to launch their own challenge. Death Walker and Trixie Bordeaux and Madison Gray. The future of X Rules here in the FWA."
A pause. Alyster glances across at Todd.
Alyster Black: "And they've all come here to find me, Todd. If that's not enough motivation, then I don't know what is."
Black adjusts his belt on his shoulder. Grips his gym bag in his right hand. It's clear that he wants to go and get ready. He's impatient. But Salum doesn't allow him to go just yet.
Todd Salum: "Whilst you’ve tried to keep a watchful eye on the multiple KODM preview matches in the run up to this event, that process has often been disrupted by the presence of an interloper who bears more than a strong resemblance to, well, you. This masked and anonymous assailant went as far as to attack you following the culmination of one such trios match on Fallout 026, laying you out in the backstage area. Can you help the FWA audience make sense of the appearance of this mystery man?"
Alyster lets the silence longer for a moment. It's not clear whether he thinks very much of the question.
Alyster Black: "Your guess is as good as mine, Salum. I'm hoping that this weekend will shed a little light on that."
Todd raises an eyebrow.
Todd Salum: "You think this imposter will be here in the desert? As an entrant in the tournament?"
Beneath the mask, we can tell that Alyster is smiling.
Alyster Black: "You said yourself that this man, assuming that it's a man, has been hounding me over the past couple of months. You think this coward would be able to stay away? He knows I'm here. He knows that this tournament is built around me. And he knows that I'll probably be a little worse for wear throughout these two days. I'd be surprised if we didn't see our masked friend here tonight."
Black's fists clench, perhaps involuntarily.
Alyster Black: "I sort of hope we do."
Sensing the champion's eagerness for violence, along with his reputation for it, Salum decides to move on.
Todd Salum: "We are aware that you will be competing in your first round match in our main event here at Stage One, and with the blind bracketing structure - coupled with a vast and varied field to choose from - is there anyone in particular that you hope walks out to face you later on today? Who’s caught your eye in those preview matches?"
Alyster Black: "I've already mentioned that I hope we'll see the future of X Rules here at the King of the –"
This thought remains unfinished as, in a sudden flourish of activity, another figure enters the frame and brings a lead pipe crashing down between Alyster Black's shoulder blades!
Anzu Kurosawa: "That's the imposter! The fake Alyster Black is here!!"
Thomas West: "Perhaps a little sooner than the champion anticipated!!"
The camera pans out to show the open door of a nearby black Corolla, which the assailant must have been waiting in to launch his assault, as the mystery man - dressed identically to black except for the blue detailing around the eyes of his mask - drags Alyster up to his feet. The X Champion tries to fight back with right hands, but the imposter thrusts the end of the pipe into his ribs before bringing it down once more over the top of his back!
Anzu Kurosawa: "A vicious assault! We need some help back there!"
Thomas West: "This is earlier today, Anzu! These woes are trapped in the past!"
Not quite done with Alyster yet, the imposter proceeds to wrap his legs around Black's in a deliberate manner before grasping his arms. He pulls the champion's face up away from the sand… before driving it down into the ground with a vile curbstomp!!
With Alyster Black seemingly unconscious, the doppelganger crouches down over his championship belt. He regards it carefully before walking out of the shot.
{A REAL HERO || COLLEGE AND ELECTRIC YOUTH}[MEDIA=youtube]-DSVDcw6iW8[/MEDIA]
Anzu Kurosawa: "Oh! Looks like that’s my cue!"
We hear the noise of a headset being placed down and the camera cuts to Anzu Kurosawa as she emerges from behind the booth in full ring gear. The crowd is cheering the woman as she walks across the stage (which the announce desk is set up on) and to the top of the ramp.
Natalie Rosenberg: "Your first competitor in this, the fifth X Rules Deathmatch of the day, weighs in at ninety six pounds… from Hiroshima, Japan… Anzu… Kurosawa!!"
Thomas West: "I guess I’ll be riding solo, hopefully just for this one match today and - of course - a few more tomorrow. This is Anzu’s second appearance in the KODM, after succumbing to Mike Parr in the first round of last year’s tournament. Anzu is one of the few pre-announced competitors going in cold with no appearances in the run-up preview matches… let’s hope her trademark exuberance is enough to shake off that ring rust."
Anzu is in the ring, smiling at the referee and offering him a thumbs up as her music fades out. All eyes, including Kurosawa’s, turn towards the stage, just in time for…
{LEGACY OF ROME || ANDREAS WOLDETOFT}[MEDIA=youtube]ZFvborIdCn4[/MEDIA]
There’s a roar in the desert as the rousing opening notes of Caesar’s theme music play, sustained as the former FWA World Tag Team Champion appears on the stage.
Natalie Rosenberg: "And her opponent… from inside the sacred Pomerium of The Glorious Roman Empire and weighing in at three hundred and nineteen libra… he is Cornelius… Aurelius… CAESAR!!"
Cornelius Aurelius Caesar looks out at his adoring public approvingly before making his way down the ramp.
Thomas West: "There’s pandemonium here in the desert! I’m not exactly sure why… all I see is a traitor who Uncle showed up to be the delusional hack that he is! Cornelius Aurelius Caesar is here at King of the Deathmatch 2023, and I can’t wait to see Anzu send him packing back to Ancient Rome!"
Caesar enters the ring and offers a nod to Anzu, who he has always had respect for, and then waits in his corner as his music fades out and the official conducts his final checks.
 
MATCH FIVE
Anzu Kurosawa vs. Cornelius Aurelius Caesar.
X Rules Deathmatch.
Round One.
<< 04:31. >>
After Caesar dominates the opening technical exchanges, Anzu manages to bowl him over with a series of stiff kicks to the sides, followed by a headscissors takedown. Caesar slides out of the ring and out of dodge, with Anzu exiting it from the other side. She takes a moment to admire Yuna’s ship approvingly, which is still banked in the sand nearby, before searching under the ring. She produces a pair of tables to the fans’ delight, and sets them up on the outside of the ring, next to each other. She’s not done there, though, collecting a twenty foot ladder from ringside and beginning to set that up, too…
Thomas West: "Those that followed Anzu’s career in Japan will know that she is synonymous with this particular weapon, and is known as the Queen of the Deathmatch throughout much of that country… hey, that’s a neat tournament idea. Someone get me Russnow’s number!"
With the ladder set up, Anzu notices Caesar charging at her with a lighttube – which she manages to duck beneath the swing of. She connects with a spin kick to the gut, Caesar dropping the lighttube, which remains in tact…. and Anzu follows up with a snap DDT on the outside! Anzu picks up the discarded lighttube and waits patiently for the Roman to climb to a vertical base. It's Kurosawa's turn to charge at her opponent with the tube, but Caesar stymies her momentum with a low drop kick to the knees! Anzu drops the tube, which skids across the floor (but again remains unbroken).
Caesar takes Anzu by the hair and tries to throw her face first onto the apron, but she puts her hands out to block it, and then strikes with a series of elbows. With Cornelius staggered, Kurosawa hops up onto the apron and runs through him with a kick to the chest! Caesar manages to stay on his feet, but not what Anzu leaps off the apron with a hurricanrana! Kurosawa follows up with the cover….
ONE… TWO… NO!
Caesar kicks out!
***
<< 08:08.>>
After a lengthy period on the outside (involving, incidentally, lots of attempts to use weaponry and the general environment to both of their advantage, with no success), the pair find themselves back in the ring and in opposite corners. Essentially where they started, except for now both of them are holding a chair. Anzu makes the first move, flinging her chair across the ring in Caesar's direction… and the Roman uses his chair to bat the missile away! The crowd are impressed with the impromptu display of baseball skills (good for an Ancient Roman, they say), except for the handful who have to get out of the way of Anzu's chair as it plummets to the ground.
Cornelius realises he's the only only now holding a chair, and he charges in an attempt to swing for the fences… but Kurosawa ducks beneath the strike. Now, standing behind Caesar, she tries to leap up onto his shoulders, with Cornelius dropping his chair in favour of holding her legs and resisting…
Thomas West: "Anzu is going for a poisonrana here, but the Roman is having none of it! He drags her back up onto his shoulders… electric chair drop!!"
Cornelius collects the unbroken lighttube from earlier in the match and waits for Anzu to climb to her feet… and brings it down over her head with a dull thud!! But STILL the lighttube remains in one piece!!
Thomas West: "What is that thing made out of?! Is it gimmicked?!"
Caesar looks down at the tube in confusion before discarding it. It rolls out of the ring, by the tables on the outside, as he changes tact and drags Kurosawa up to her feet. He hoists her up and steps towards one of the chairs, but as he does he accidentally kicks it out of the way, so his Michonoku driver only sends Anzu to the mat rather than onto the steel. Nonetheless, Caesar goes for a cover…
ONE… TWO… NO!
Kickout from Anzu! A little frustration showing, Caesar locks on a grounded side headlock.
***
<< 10:41. >>
After ten hard forearms delivered to Anzu in the corner, Caesar whips her across the ring and into the opposite set of turnbuckles. The Roman charges across the ring at her, going for a cornered clothesline, but Anzu ducks and uses Caesar's momentum against him, sending him up and over the top rope and crashing in a heap on the outside! Anzu waits inside the ring as he gets to his feet, using the barricade to help support his weight… and attempts to springboard from the inside to the outside with a cross-body!!
Thomas West: "… Caesar catches her!! He plucks Anzu out of midair!! My broadcast colleague may weigh less than a hundred pounds, but an impressive feat nonetheless from Cornelius Aurelius Caesar!"
The Roman holds Anzu in his arms for a moment as she struggles, a devious little smile on his face. He tries to throw Anzu up and onto his shoulders in a fireman's carry… but Anzu shifts her momentum and takes him down with a tiltawhirl DDT!! Caesar is spiked onto the hard desert ground and rolls towards the tables and ladder set up earlier in the match. Anzu is on him immediately, dragging him to the tables and, after a series of clubbing forearms, lays him on top of them…
Thomas West: "Anzu got this idea into her head earlier in the match, and it appears she thinks Caesar is now incapacitated enough to take a risk! Anzu is going right to the very top of that fifteen foot ladder!"
The audience cheer Kurosawa as she makes her ascent, and as she steadies herself on the top of it she offers the fans all a thumbs up.
Thomas West: "SENTON ATOMICO!! … BUT NOBODY’S HOME!!"
Caesar indeed dives out of the way, causing Anzu to crash through the two tables. They explode beneath her and she lies in the debris as the crowd launches into a ‘HOLY SHIT’ chant. Caesar is still worse for wear, too, but shakes loose the cobwebs and grabs the nearby indestructible lighttube. He drags Anzu up, standing behind her, and places the lighttube across her throat… before delivering a vile backstabber!
Thomas West: "Et Tu, Caesar?! And FINALLY the lighttube breaks!!"
The crowd applauds as the the tube smashes into pieces, the shards cutting Anzu open around the chest and neck after the backstabber. Caesar discards the pieces and hooks the leg…
ONE… TWO… THREE!
{RESULT}Winner: Cornelius Aurelius Caesar by pinfall at 12:38.
Cornelius is slow to get to his feet, but eventually he does and - leaning against the ring apron for some support - he allows the official to lift his hand into the air.
Natalie Rosenberg: "Here is your winner… Cornelius Aurelius Caesar!!"
Caesar climbs back into the ring, wishing to revel for a little while with an audience appreciative of his efforts.
Thomas West: "A hell of an effort from Anzu, who really put it all on the line, but it’s the Roman who progresses to tomorrow’s Stage Two. He’s enjoying the proverbial giving of flowers at this contest’s culmination, climbing up to the second rope to bask in the crowd’s admiration."
But, just as Caesar is getting comfortable…
{THE DEMON’S CAROL || BLAQKOUT}[MEDIA=youtube]kHYdLveMYxc[/MEDIA]
Caesar’s eyes turn towards the screen, just as do everyone else’s in the arena…
Thomas West: "We’ve already heard this man’s music once tonight… but what business does he have out here now?!"
Cornelius hops down from the second turnbuckle to occupy a position in the middle of the ring. He is exhausted from his match with Anzu, but he wills this new apparent assailant out nonetheless…
Thomas West: "I guess Death Walker intends to make Caesar’s business his own… look out, Cornelius! He’s behind you!"
Caesar, though, is fixated on the stage area, his fists raised and ready for a fight… but he’s blindsided from behind by Death Walker, who runs through him with a clothesline to the back of the head! Cornelius falls into a heap and begins the arduous task of dragging himself back up, but Death is already reaching for a nearby chair. He allows Caesar to get to his feet… only to bring the chair down over his head with a sickening crunch! A dent the size and shape of the Roman’s head is left in the chair as Death throws it to one side, inspecting his handiwork in the form of a thin trickle of blood emerging from Cornelius’ forehead.
Thomas West: "Death Walker is, of course, already safely through to the second round of this tournament, owing to his victory earlier in the night against XYZ… perhaps he’s looking to take out the opposition before we even get to Stage Two?!"
Death Walker looms over his fallen prey, the crowd booing him ferociously as we fade away from the scene.
The Fantasy Wrestling Alliance proudly presents…
LIVE! … this Sunday, April 9th, 2023 …
… from the United Center in Chicago, Illinois …
- only on the WCNetwork -
featuring…
Eternal vs. Joe Burr & Lizzie Rose.
Jackson Fenix vs. Mike Parr. FWA NA Title - #1C.
Ratin Makitchin and Steve the Techno Vampire vs. Allen Price and Jean-Luc Watkins.
Bryan Baxter [c] vs. ???. FWA NA Title.
Shawn Summers [c] vs. Tommy Bedlam. FWA TV Title.
Chris Peaock [c] vs. Cyrus Truth vs. Michelle von Horrowitz. FWA World Title.
We cut to the backstage area, somewhere near Gorilla position, where Katie Baxter is standing by with ‘the British Apprentice’ Reagan Cole, along with his mentor and advisor for the weekend in Jeffry Mason. ‘The Saviour of Death’ stands behind Cole, his arms folded and a smirk on his face, as the interviewer acknowledges the audience and then his charge. We note that Reagan still has a couple of staples in his forehead following his match with Madison Gray earlier on in the evening.
Katie Baxter: "I’m standing by at this time with Reagan Cole, along with Jeffry Mason, who is fresh from his impressive victory over Madison Gray earlier on today. Reagan, any thoughts about the manner in which you progressed into tomorrow’s latter stages?"
If anything, Reagan seems a little perplexed by the question.
Reagan Cole: "Impressive? It was a win, which is a good thing, but I’m not sure I’d go that far Katie. Madison is still improving, still green… for her, every match - including this one - is a learning curve. But I’m not here to be a training module. The real competition starts tomorrow."
Jeffry lets out a snicker.
Jeffry Mason: "Reagan is being far too kind. Madison Gray calls herself a parasite, and I happen to agree. And today, the parasite got squashed, which is an inevitability."
Katie Baxter: "You’ve already mentioned tomorrow, when you’ll go into Stage Two along with a few other wrestlers who’ve already won their first round matches today. Has anyone caught your eye? Are you looking out for anyone who hasn’t yet competed during Stage One?"
Cole looks somewhat impatient. He’s only just finished with medical following his match, and the lingering pains from it are making him irritable.
Reagan Cole: "It’s like a jungle out there. Sometimes, I wonder how I –"
Cole’s thought is interrupted, and both he and Jeffry Mason stiffen up, their eyes drawn to something off-camera. We zoom out and pan around to reveal… Death Walker, recently returned through the curtain following his exploits following the Caesar vs. Anzu match-up. Death Walker slowly saunters closer to the other two, cutting a somewhat intimidating figure even if he is outnumbered by Mason and Cole.
The interviewer, meanwhile, is shrinking into the corner whilst listening to a message through her earpiece. Nervously, she punctures the silence…
Katie Baxter: "Um, Death Walker… you really mustn’t shoot the messenger, but… the KODM Committee have informed me that any further physicality from yourself towards tournament competitors tonight will result in your disqualification from Stage Two…"
Death affords himself a smirk. He clenches his fist.
Death Walker: "…"
Even though there’s two men opposite from him, Death still seems to fancy his chances… until, in what would seem like a coincidence but for the fact that this interview is happening at Gorilla position and her match is next, Trixie Bordeaux enters the scene. The camera pulls back further still to reveal her standing a few metres apart from Cole and Mason. She glares at Death, the recent history between the pair running through her mind.
Death Walker, now staring at three wrestlers (of varying experience) apparently opposing him, not to mention the threat of removal from the tournament, lets out a low chuckle before returning to the backstage area.
Trixie is left with Jeffry and Reagan, and turns her glare in their direction now that the more immediate threat has left. Her music begins to play, and we hear the muffled sounds of it through the walls of the warehouse.
Bellatrix Bordeaux: "I’ll see you tomorrow, maybe."
Bordeaux walks through the curtain. Jeffry Mason has a smile on his face.
Jeffry Mason: "Maybe…"
Mason and Cole leave Katie Baxter alone, who lets out a huge sigh of relief.
{FIREFLIES || OWL CITY}[MEDIA=youtube]QBgl4rVz3Ks[/MEDIA]
Cheers are heard in the desert as Trixie Bordeaux appears on the stage, still slightly green-faced and queasy after her eventful interview with Katie Baxter earlier in the day. She looks awkward and anxious on the stage, surveying the audience with fear plain upon her, before beginning her descent of the ramp.
Natalie Rosenberg: "Introducing your first competitor in this sixth X Rules Deathmatch… weighing in at one hundred and twenty five pounds… from Baton Rouge, Louisiana… BELLATRIX BORDEAUX!!"
Thomas West: "I’m afraid it’s still only me, wrestling fans! We’re just waiting for Anzu to re-find her feet… but allow me to introduce Trixie Bordeaux, a woman who has made waves in the last couple of matches, picking up big tag team wins on both 026 and 027. Bordeaux will be hoping that collaborative success can translate into singles success, as she eyes a place in Stage Two… or maybe just hopes to keep her lunch down."
Trixie does indeed look like she’s about to be sick again, crouched in the corner of the ring. Fortunately it all came back up earlier in the day. After a few dry heaves, she stands up and stares at the stage, waiting for her opponent’s music to play…
{EVILEST MAN || KING GIZZARD & THE LIZARD WIZARD}[MEDIA=youtube]cDGvduVEweg[/MEDIA]
There’s a subdued reaction in the desert - the sun getting closer and closet to setting behind the mountains - for weaselperson as the bizarre competitor walks out onto the stage. They look around themselves at the assembled audience in silence… no words, no barks, just silence.
Natalie Rosenberg: "And introducing her opponent… from Montreal, Quebec in Canada and weighing in at one hundred and eighty pounds… weaselperson!!"
Thomas West: "It’s fair to say that this audience doesn’t exactly know what to make of weaselperson. Figures: people are always scared of what they don’t understand. If you ask me, weaselperson has real NP. That stands for Nephew Potential, which weaselperson possesses in bucketloads. First and foremost, they’re a winner. weaselperson started off their career here by sending Logan Darwin, and now they’ve come for the rest of the FWA!"
weaselperson climbs into the ring and stands across from it from Trixie, staring listlessly at the young lady with their mouth ajar and their tongue hanging out. Bordeaux returns the gesture, only without the tongue hanging out. The official, content that we are ready to begin, calls for the bell…
 
MATCH SIX
Trixie Bordeaux vs. weaselperson.
X Rules Deathmatch.
Round One.
<< 02:15. >>
After knocking Trixie down with a clothesline, weaselperson scurries out of the ring and collects some hardware from under the ring, notably a stop sign and a trash can. They throws them under the bottom rope and proceeds to whack Trixie a trio of times with the stop sign, denting it over her head, and then places the trashcan over her head! Trixie is blinded with her torso inside the trashcan and stumbles around the ring. weaselperson hits her a further time with the stop sign, knocking her off her feet, but Bordeaux is still firmly stuck inside the can! weaselperson offers her their hand to help her get to her feet, but then bodyslams her! Trixie is still in the trashcan as weaselperson goes for the cover…
ONE… TWO… NO!
Thomas West: "How could the official possibly see if her shoulders are down?! The poor woman is inside a trash can!!"
weaselperson waits in the corner, perhaps teeing Bordeaux up for a spear, but when Trixie gets to her feet she walks in completely the opposite direction! It’s an accidental evasive manoeuvre, with weaselperson unable to hit his spear but Trixie (still in the trashcan) walks into the turnbuckles first and then the ringropes, losing her balance the second time and again falling to the mat.
weaselperson utters a few barks, which Trixie seems to understand mean she should wait. She remains still as weaselperson, rather than simply helping her out of the trashcan, leaves the ring and looks underneath it. They produce a toolbox (which the camera picks up has Jason Randall’s name on it), and from it they retrieve a short, sharp knife.
Thomas West: "Woah… did we do enough background checks on this weaselperson? I know anything is legal but this seems a bit much!"
weaselperson’s intentions are less sinister, though, and they use his knife to quickly cut a pair of rough eye holes in Trixie’s trashcan! She gets up to her feet, seemingly moving around a little better now… but then weaselperson knocks her back off her feet with a spear! They go for the cover…
ONE… TWO… NO!
Trixie kicks out!
***
<< 05:51. >>
In the ring, weaselperson has a door, which they have set up on two folded out chairs. They lift Trixie up to her feet (the young woman is still, you guessed it, stuck inside her trashcan, though the eyeholes at least give her half a chance) and drag her towards the door, applying a front facelock (around the entire trashcan).
Thomas West: "weaselperson is looking for a DDT through that door… but Trixie is desperately fighting out! She rams that trashcan into weaselperson’s side… and then a sit-out jawbreaker!! How did she manage that!"
weaselperson stumbles around after the desperation move from Trixie, which caused their chin to jam off the edge of the trashcan’s base, and Trixie follows up with a kick to the groin!! weaselperson yelps, and Bordeaux knocks them into a seat position in the corner with a standing dropkick! Trixie is still in the can, but backs away from weaselperson nonetheless, and then charges across the ring with a cannonball!
Thomas West: "Bundle of Fun! Trixie Bordeaux connects, and weaslperson is on Dream Street!"
Indeed, weaselperson is stumbling around the ring again, and Trixie follows up with a drop toe hold, sending weaselperson face down onto the door that they set up earlier in the match. Trixie heaves weaselperson’s prone body up onto the door before climbing up towards the top rope. She steadies herself on the top turnbuckle, cutting an odd figure with two around forty percent of her body hidden inside the trashcan… before leaping off with a coffin drop!!
Thomas West: "Whistling Trixie!!! Through the door!! That’s got to be it!!"
The canned Trixie lies down atop weaselperson…
ONE… TWO… THREE!
{RESULT}Winner: Trixie Bordeaux by pinfall at 07:15.
The official finally helps Trixie out of her trashcan, and then raises her hand in victory…
Natalie Rosenberg: "Here is your winner… Bellatrix Bordeaux!!"
Bordeaux is breathing heavily, and there’s an expression on her face that suggests that she can’t quite believe that she’s won.
Thomas West: "Trixie marches on into Stage Two at weaselperson’s expense – and what’s more, she’s just picked up her very first singles victory here in the FWA! A big moment for Bordeaux!"
Trixie seems to be aware of this, too, but the disbelief continues. She stands for a while awkwardly in the middle of the ring, her music blaring around her and a considerable proportion of the fans cheering her name. Finally, she walks over - almost in a daze - to the trash can that became her temporary home for just under five minutes. She picks it up and climbs out of the ring with it. We fade out on this somewhat confused image.
We cut to an external shot in the desert, near the warehousing unit being used for the backstage area but away from the prying eyes of the fans. Next to the talent entrance, Katie Baxter is standing by with one of tonight’s winners in Bellatrix Bordeaux.
Katie Baxter: "I’m joined at this time by Trixie Bordeaux, fresh from her triumph in the opening round of the King of the Deathmatch, when she eliminated weaselperson to progress to Stage Two. Trixie, how are you feeling after your big debut win?"
Trixie seems a little shellshocked, and only slightly less pale than she was when we last saw her. She is still clutching her trashcan with eye holes.
Bellatrix Bordeaux: "Well, I don’t know if I’d call it a big win, Katie. It was only against a meme character after all, and I only just barely won. I had a trashcan on my head for most of the match, I don’t know if you saw. That’s not generally considered traditional for professional wrestling. I guess you could say a lot of it was luck. Things fell for me right at the right time, you know? I’m thankful for it, but I don’t think I can afford to get too many trashcans stuck on my head in Stage Two. Maybe I’ll try and get a trashcan stuck on one of my opponent’s head instead. Learn from my mistakes, maybe! Can’t rely on luck forever."
Trixie is skittish and anxious. Katie attempts to put her at ease.
Katie Baxter: "Trixie, calm down… you did well."
Bordeaux takes a deep breath, as if hearing somebody say that has done something to relax her. She doesn’t have a chance to respond, however, because the camera pans out to show that another has entered the scene. None other than ‘the Wildcard’ Jason Randall is standing nearby. He finishes smoking his cigarette, flicking the end into a nearby drain.
Jason Randall: "You’re both right. You did well today, Trixie. But you’re going to have to do a lot better tomorrow."
With that, the Wildcard walks through the talent entrance. Trixie stares blankly into space.
Katie Baxter: "… Trixie?"
Bellatrix Bordeaux: "Um, sorry, I can’t stay, I gotta go hide. Wait, not hide. Did I say hide? I gotta go train. See you tomorrow, Katie."
With a nervous smile and a wave, Trixie leaves the frame. Baxter looks at the lens, says nothing, and we fade to black.
{YOU GOT A FRIEND IN ME (SLOWED) || RANDY NEWMAN}[MEDIA=youtube]vQ6uu6wH6Uw[/MEDIA]
Heavy boos are heard around the arena as Jeremy Best’s music begins to play. There’s a few awkward moments of inactivity as we wait for Jeremy to appear, but eventually he does - without, of course, Bill Scorpane and Bryan Baxter. Best looks somewhat nervous as he makes his way towards the ring.
Natalie Rosenberg: "Introducing the first combatant in your seventh X Rules Deathmatch of the evening… from Friendship, North Carolina… weighing in at one hundred and eighty pounds… JEREMY… BEST!!"
Anzu Kurosawa: "It’s good to be back, Thomas… what a thrill! And just in time, it seems!"
Thomas West: "… you missed a whole match, Anzu."
Anzu Kurosawa: "I did?"
Thomas West: "Indeed, but you’re back just in time for Jeremy Best, who I’m sure many are relishing the idea of seeing battered with lighttubes and barbed wire. He hasn’t made too many new friends or new fans since Back in Town..."
Jeremy has a microphone in hand, and stops the music when he’s half way down the ramp.
Jeremy Best: "Well, tonight truly has been eye-opening. I am sure that, through all the blood and the violence and the barbarism, you have all learned a lot! I have learned one thing, whilst watching all of this play out from the back… and that’s that I’m not cut out for this!"
Best climbs into the ring and lifts the microphone up to his lips again, as if he means to go on. Before he can, though, he is quickly cut off…
{STUPID INTRUDERS || THE VINCENT BLACK SHOW}[MEDIA=youtube]qR_440CbQZM[/MEDIA]
The crowd erupts as Violet Dreyer walks out onto the stage, a face like thunder as she surveys the makeshift arena. She has a cricket bat with a few spikes nailed into it in her grasp.
Natalie Rosenberg: "And his opponent… from Sydney, Australia and weighing in at one hundred and forty one pounds… ‘That Dastardly Dreyer’... VIOLET… DREYER!!"
Anzu Kuorsawa: I think that, as they say, business is about to pick up!"
[/b][/color][/span][/div]
Dreyer’s eyes fix on Jeremy Best and, with a smirk, she clutches her bat before striding down the ring. Jeremy turns even paler, if that is possible, and quickly climbs out of the ring as she slides into it…
Jeremy Best: "Wait, wait, wait, wait, WAIT!!"
Jeremy quickly circles the ring and retreats to the ramp, which he stumbles up backwards. Violet, prepared for the match which she believes about to begin, clutches her bat and waits in the ring, barking at Best to climb back in and face her. Her music fades out as Jeremy continues to speak…
Jeremy Best: "I wasn’t finished! You didn’t let me finish!"
The crowd continue to boo as Jeremy, who is coming across very cowardly in this moment, continues to back up the ramp and onto the stage.
Jeremy Best: "As I was just saying, I’ve decided that my skills aren’t necessarily the best suited to deathmatch wrestling, afterall… and so I’m out here to announce that I am withdrawing from this tournament! Sorry! All a big misunderstanding, really. But, fortunately for all of you, I found a replacement skulking around in the back, who leapt at the opportunity to throw his name into the hat. Jim…"
Best lowers the mic and turns to the stage, just in time for…
{SONNE || RAMMSTEIN}[MEDIA=youtube]YtEWoavDlcM[/MEDIA]
There’s a huge cheer from the crowd… but this is somewhat tempered, gradually as the realisation dawns, when the masked man walks out onto the stage. He is a pretty good impersonator but for the lack of championship belt and the cobalt blue detailing around the eyes of his mask. As he walks past Best and down the ramp, we vaguely recognise his gait but can’t place it, other than to say that it doesn’t belong to Alyster Black. Natalie Rosenberg, after listening to instructions coming through her earpiece, makes the introductions…
Natalie Rosenberg: "And introducing her opponent… currently residing in … San Dimas, California and … weighing in at two hundred and twenty pounds… … ‘ALYSTER’… ‘BLACK’!!"" [/color][/span][/div][/b]
Anzu Kurosawa: "Can Jeremy Best do that?!"
Thomas West: "Looks like he has, Anzu! Best is out of here, and we have a new opponent for Violet Dreyer… somebody bearing a striking resemblance to one Danny Toner."
Anzu Kurosawa: "A striking resemblance, yes… but not the real deal. This is the man who has been plaguing the actual FWA X Champion over the last couple of months, and now he inserts himself into KODM2. Perhaps looking to get his hands on the champion in a sanctioned match?"
Thomas West: "Perhaps, but he has a big challenge ahead of him here in Stage One before it comes to that… and Violet Dreyer looks livid! I imagine she wanted to get her hands on Jeremy Best, the man who betrayed her former mentor in ‘the White Wolf’ Krash, but now she’ll have to settle for this impersonator…"
Anzu Kurosawa: "I wouldn’t want to be in his borrowed boots, right now…"
The imposter slides into the ring… and immediately Violet tries to take his head off with a swing of her spiked bat!! ‘Alyster’ ducks beneath it and doubles Dreyer over with a boot to the midsection, the masked man applying a front facelock as the official calls for the opening bell…
MATCH SEVEN ’Alyster Black’ vs. Violet Dreyer. X Rules Deathmatch. Round One.
MATCH WRITE-UP
<< 00:00. >>
Anzu Kurosawa: "The Fake Black attempting a Satan’s Spike here immediately in this match?!"
Violet, though, has other ideas, immediately driving ‘Black’ back into the corner and then repeatedly thrusting her shoulder into his gut. Violet takes him by the wrist and whips him HARD into the opposite set of turnbuckles, the imposter hitting them with such force that he rebounds back towards her… and Dreyer runs through him with a shoulder block!!
Thomas West: "You think Violet is aware that this is only a fake Alyster Black?"
Anzu Kurosawa: "She’s taking out some frustrations here, regardless…"
Violet attempts to stay on ‘Black’, but he slides out beneath the bottom rope to avoid her advances. She comes on, though, following him out of the ring and nailing a trio of forearms, before hurling him shoulder-first into the steel ring steps!! She takes a moment to walk around the ring and collect her spiked bat, which slid out of it amidst the commotion at the start of the match, before stalking ‘Black’, who is still draped over the steel ring steps.
Thomas West: "This could end very badly for whoever it is underneath that mask…"
Anzu Kurosawa: "Serves them right for the duplicity!"
Violet lifts her bat over her head and tries to bring it down onto the imposter’s back, but at the last moment her mysterious opponent throws himself out of the way! The bat is stuck in the top of the steel steps by its spikes, and as Dreyer attempts to yank it out she’s rocked by a superkick from ‘Alyster’!!
Anzu Kurosawa: "I don’t think I’ve ever seen Alyster Black hit a superkick! A desperation move, perhaps."
Regardless, Violet is rocked by the move, allowing ‘Black’ to hoist her onto his shoulders and nail her with a Death Valley Driver on the outside!
Thomas West: "A little more in keeping with the mimicry, there… and now ‘Alyster’ goes for the cover…"
ONE… TWO… T – NO!
Violet forces a shoulder up, but the imposter has the upper hand…
***
<< 04:12. >>
In the ring, ‘Alyster’ is working away at Violet in the corner with right hands, but Dreyer throws up a hasty guard, and when the onslaught momentarily abates she throws a big headbutt into the imposter! ‘Black’ stumbles backwards, allowing Dreyer to grab him in a front facelock before hitting a tornado DDT!!
Anzu Kurosawa: "Those familiar with Violet Dreyer’s work on the indies will know that she calls that the Molotov Cocktail… but rather than going for a pinfall, she rolls out of the ring and is looking for some hardware!"
Indeed, Violet searches under the ring, first producing a fire extinguisher, which she rolls into the ring (it hits the mat with a dull thunk), and then secondly a huge wooden board that has tight spools of barbed wire attached to one side of it. She has a sinister grin on her face as she slides it beneath the bottom rope, the crowd cheering her on as she hops up onto the apron… only to get sprayed with the smog from the fire extinguisher!! Dreyer stumbles around on the apron, holding the top rope to keep her footing even though she’s blinded… and ‘Alyster’ brings the fire extinguisher down over her head!! The impact gives off a nasty thud and Dreyer falls down onto the apron! ‘Black’ follows her out onto the apron, once more hoisting her up into a fireman’s carry.
Thomas West: "You think he’s going for a Death Valley Driver again?"
Anzu Kurosawa: "Maybe, but Violet is wise to it, now! She fights out desperately with elbow strikes to the side of the imposter’s head…"
‘Alyster’ is forced to drop Dreyer and she lands behind him, and when the masked man turns she attempts to tee off on him with a big headbutt… only for ‘Black’ to block it with a big forearm! Violet is rocked, but the imposter has to take a moment to shake some activity back into the nerves in his hand. When he’s ready, he hoists Dreyer to her feet and delivers a devastating Saito suplex on the ring apron! Violet lands at an ugly angle on her head and neck and then falls into a heap on the floor, with ‘Black’ prompt in rolling off the apron and into a cover…
ONE… TWO… THR – NO!
Once more, Violet kicks out!
***
<< 09:13. >>
‘Alyster’ has caught Violet on the top rope, and has followed her up in an attempt to hit her with a superplex or, perhaps, an Avalanche Satan’s Spike… Dreyer, though, is doing her best to fight out of it, and unloads on ‘Black’ with forearm strikes and headbutts, eventually succeeding in having the masked man teeter on the second turnbuckle. One more forearm sends him down into a heap on the mat. Violet steps up to the top turnbuckle, perhaps looking for her ‘Rooftop Riot’ senton atomico… but she takes a moment too long to steady herself, and ‘Alyster’ scrambles up. He charges over and knocks Violet off the top rope with an axe handle! She loses her footing, first falling onto the apron and then down onto the sand.
Anzu Kurosawa: "A desperation move from this Alyster Black cosplayer, there! He sensed that Violet was shaping up for something big, and did anything he could to throw her off track…"
‘Black’ shakes off the cobwebs in the centre of the ring, and prepares to follow Dreyer back out of it, when…
{SONNE || RAMMSTEIN}[MEDIA=youtube]YtEWoavDlcM[/MEDIA]
The crowd goes crazy when the opening notes of the song play, and only get more excited when the FWA X Champion appears on the stage. He drops his belt and, although he is moving gingerly after the attack earlier in the night, he begins to march down to the ring…
Anzu Kurosawa: "Alyster Black is here!! And he’s had just about enough of this charade!"
Thomas West: "But we’re in the middle of a match! What would Violet Dreyer say about all of this?!"
Anzu Kurosawa: "X Rules, Thomas!"
The fake Alyster Black throws up his fists as the real one slides into the ring, with ‘Alyster’ attempting a discus lariat as the X Champion charges him. Black Jesus ducks beneath it, and then runs through his impersonator with a rolling elbow! The crowd are going wild as Alyster lifts up his doppelganger and hoists him up into a fireman’s carry…
Anzu Kurosawa: "Death Valley Driver! The real deal!"
Black looks down at his foe for a moment, and specifically at his mask. Perhaps he is thinking about revealing this imposter’s identity, but for some reason he doesn’t. Instead, he collects the barbed wire board that Violet introduced earlier in the match and drags it into position in the centre of the ring. He hoists his impersonator up in a front facelock…
Thomas West: "SATAN’S SPIKE!! INTO THE BARBED WIRE!!"
The real Alyster lands in the barbed wire, too, but he drags himself out of it and - if there is any pain - he doesn’t let it show. He looks down at the doppelganger, writhing in agony, and then slides out of the ring. The camera watches as he retreats up the ramp…
… and then, when we cut back to the ring, we see Violet Dreyer climbing up to the top turnbuckle!
Thomas West: "Violet Dreyer is looking to take advantage of this situation!"
Anzu Kurosawa: "And why not?! This is her dream! Violet is closing in on a place in Stage Two!"
She steadies herself upon the top rope…
Thomas West: "ROOFTOP RIOT!!"
‘Alyster Black’ is driven further into the barbed wire board by the seton atomico, and Dreyer covers him, her own arms and back cut up by the impact…
ONE… TWO… THREE!
{RESULT}Winner: Violet Dreyer by pinfall at 12:56.
Dreyer takes in some hard-fought breaths following the contest, the exhaustion plain upon her. She drags herself to her feet and, when the referee tries to lift her hand in victory, she glares at him to warn him away…
Natalie Rosenberg: "Here is your winner… Violet Dreyer!!"
Anzu Kurosawa: "Well, exactly how much Violet Dreyer knew about the circumstances that led to her opponent suddenly finding himself tangled in barbed wire remains to be seen… but the important fact is that she’s through to Stage Two of the King of the Deathmatch."
Thomas West: "At the expense of our resident Alyster Black impersonator… hopefully she takes his mask off. He’s right there!"
Dreyer looks down at ‘Black’ for a moment, and it appears the thought is perhaps crossing her own mind… but she instead turns away and climbs out of the ring.
Thomas West: "Oh, come on! I might go and do it myself…"
Anzu Kurosawa: "Be my guest."
Thomas West: "Commitments, Anzu."
We see Violet approach the steel ring steps and plant a boot on the top of them. She wrenches her bat out of the top, inspects the damage, shrugs, and then walks up the ramp as we fade away from the scene.
We cut to Gorilla position, where Cornelius Aurelius Caesar is standing near the entrance to the medical bay with Todd Salum. The Roman is wearing his injuries - both from his match with Anzu Kurosawa and the post-match attack from Death Walker - plainly. He massages his neck, targeted by Death's kimura lock, as Salum opens.
Todd Salum: "I'm here with Cornelius Aurelius Caesar, for whom it's been a mixed day here in the desert. Caesar, you triumphed over Anzu Kurosawa - who I’m led to believe you were treated alongside and bonded with in the medical bay - but then fell to a brutal and seemingly random attack from Death Walker after the bell. Any thoughts on this extra-curricular from one of your fellow quarter finalists?"
Caesar smiles to himself before he begins.
Cornelius Aurelius Caesar: ”You know, I am quite used to knives in the back… but it never makes it any more regrettable. Just once, I wish someone would draw their blade whilst facing me. Death Walker, you are no different to a thousand of history’s other rogues, right down to the spooky name. It’s not all that intimidating. We’ll see how brave he is if fate throws us together on the battlefield. No fight is fair, but I like to look a man in the eyes as he meets his end."
It’s quite clear that the Roman means business. Salum retracts the microphone, intending to ask a follow-up question, but before he can Caesar’s attention (and then the interviewer’s, too) is drawn away by someone else entering the scene. Jeremy Best has been skulking around Gorilla position, watching the Violet Dreyer match on the monitors, and has stumbled into Caesar’s shot on his way towards the exit.
Jeremy Best: "Oh, are you recording something? Don’t mind me… I’m just leaving. Didn’t mean to get in anyone’s way."
The Roman’s eyes narrow in the direction of this intruder.
Cornelius Aurelius Caesar: ”I have mentioned certain betrayals already, Todd. These men, whose knives are sharp and keen, are those I once considered friends. I have tasted betrayal in different millenia. And there was a time when I may have shrugged my shoulders, if there wasn’t a knife in between them, and deem this an inevitable part of life. But I have learned in the more recent past that this does not have to be the way. I do not consider myself an expert in the art of friendship. Not anymore. But you do. Which makes your failings all the more repugnant. I do not like you, Jeremy Best."
With that, Caesar leaves the shot. Jeremy is left with the interviewer.
Jeremy Best: "Which way is the exit?"
The Fantasy Wrestling Alliance proudly presents…
KODM. STAGE TWO.
… this Saturday, April 8th, 2023 … … from an undisclosed location in the United States … - only on the WCNetwork -
featuring… QFs. Match #10: 10,000 lighttubes Can’t Be Wrong Deathmatch. Match #11: Clockwork Orange House of Fun Deathmatch. Match #12: Lumber-Nephew Fans Bring The Weapons Deathmatch. Match #13: No Ropes Barbed Wire Deathmatch. SFs. Match #14: Schism in the Prison Deathmatch. Match #15: Lahore Lockdown Deathmatch. F. Match #16: Barbed Wire Spider’s Web Exploding Ring Deathmatch.
{GO TO SLEEP || EMINEM FT. OBIE TRICE & DMX}[MEDIA=youtube]r2GEb4MrkvU[/MEDIA]
There’s a mixed reaction, probably fifty/fifty, as ‘the Wildcard’ emerges onto the stage. He usually enjoys a more negative response from audiences, but the deathmatch setting and Randall’s reputation for violence means he has more fans amongst this crowd than most. Randall has a trashcan filled with weapons in his hands and begins his walk down the ramp.
Natalie Rosenberg: "… from San Diega, California… he weighs in at two hundred and thirty four pounds… ‘the Wildcard’... JASON RANDALL!!"
Thomas West: "Looks like Jason Randall has come prepared here tonight, bringing his own weapons to the ring… this is exactly the sort of thing that people were talking about when it was said that The Wildcard was perfect for the King of the Deathmatch."
Anzu Kurosawa: "He’s earned that nickname over the years, West. He tangled with Death Walker throughout much of the Winter, and we’ve already seen Death safely qualify for Stage Two with that impressive knockout victory against XYZ. Perhaps The Wildcard will be eyeing up a future meeting with his old rival in tomorrow’s latter stages."
Randall climbs into the ring and places his trashcan down next to him, occupying a central position within it as he stares up the ramp at the stage. His music fades out, a long pause following, the audience creeping to the edge of their seats (metaphorically speaking, as they’re standing) as the hesitation lingers…
And lingers…
Then…
{EVIL IS BUT A SHADOW || MILEY CYRUS}[MEDIA=youtube]BC5qrm0S_P0[/MEDIA]
There’s a huge pop in the arena, but soon enough the excitement turns into derision as Jeffry Mason - wearing a white t-shirt with ONE MORE FUCKING TIME scrawled onto it with marker pen - appears on the stage carrying a trashcan of weaponry of his own!! He stands at the top of the ramp, his eyes momentarily on the Crown of Thorns on its podium… before his eyes lock onto Jason Randall. He holds his trashcan into the air, points at The Wildcard, and then begins marching towards the ring.
Natalie Rosenberg: "… from Calgary, Alberta, Canada and weighing in at two hundred and sixty two pounds… ‘the Saviour of Death’... JEFFRY MAAAAASOOOOOOON!"
Anzu Kurosawa: "We knew that he was here, and this explains exactly why Jeffry Mason was allowed to accompany Reagon Cole to the desert today… he’s allowed to be here because he’s part of KODM2! The Saviour of Death is actually here!!"
Thomas West: "This man is widely renowned as a deathmatch legend, and we had a taste of that at 2022’s Back in Business, when he and the British Apprentice stole the show with their bloodbath. And it looks like he intends to fight fire with fire! Both men have the same idea here with their bring-your-own-arsenals!"
Mason throws his trashcan of weapons into the ring and then rolls underneath the bottom rope. He stands opposite from The Wildcard, the two sharing a tense stand-off, Mason’s music fading out and the audience’s anticipation building further still. The referee, somewhat nervous himself about the two men standing either side of him and what they might do to him, doesn’t bother with final checks or last minute instructions, instead immediately calling for the opening bell.
MATCH EIGHT Jason Randall vs. Jeffry Mason. X Rules Deathmatch. Round One.
<< 00:00. >>
Both men stand in their respective with their trashcans of weaponry next to them. They each reach into them: Jeffry collects a pair of lighttubes, whilst randall produces a baseball bat with a dozen nails in the end of it! The audience is already hyped for the match, the two circling the ring with their weapons of choice in their hands. It’s Randall who lunges first with a heavy overhead swing of his bat, but Mason evades, causing the bat to get tangled in the ropes. The Wildcard quickly wrenches it out, but Mason is quicker, bringing the first of his tubes crashing down across Randall’s back! The Wildcard drops his bat and turns to face Jeffry, who brings the second tube down over Randall’s head! The Wildcard drops to his knees and Mason pushes himself behind him with the two broken lighttube ends still in his grasp, which he proceeds to grind the jagged edges of against Randall’s forehead!!
Thomas West: "Jeffry Mason is wasting no time at all taking things to the extreme! This is why they call him ‘the Saviour of Death’!"
Anzu Kurosawa: "My kind of match! My kind of saviour!"
Jeffry Mason drops the tube ends down into the middle of the ring, where they join the rest of the broken shards, and then collects Jason Randall in a front facelock… delivering a snap DDT down onto the glass! Already, the Wildcard is busted open, and Mason goes for the cover…
ONE… TWO… NO!
Randall kicks out!
***
<< 02:51. >>
Mason has produced and used more goodies from his trashcan: he has placed a large gusset board in position near a corner, and is now going to work stapling a trio of dollar bills onto Jason Randall’s forehead. Randall cowers in the corner, and Mason begins to squeeze his nose so that the Wildcard opens his mouth, into which the Saviour of Death forces the staplegun…
Thomas West: "Is he trying to staple his tongue?!"
Anzu Kurosawa: "Looks that way, buddy…"
Randall seems to sense Mason’s intentions, too, and stamps down hard on his foot, causing him to drop the staplegun, and then a kick to the shins backs Jeffry up. This allows Randall to run through him with a discuss lariat! Jason picks up the discarded staplegun as Mason retreats into a seated position in the corner. Incensed, the Wildcard rips the dollar bills off his forehead and proceeds to staple two of them onto Mason’s… before he repeats Mason’s gesture, holding his nose until Jeffry is forced to open his mouth…
Thomas West: "No, please… no! God! OH MY GOD!! Jason Randall just stapled a dollar bill onto Jeffry Mason’s tongue!!"
The bill doesn’t hold its position but the pain is severe, Mason rolling around the ring in agony as he rips the remnants off. Randall holds the staplegun up to cheers from the crowd before hurling it at Mason, the Saviour of Death throwing up a guard to deflect it. The Wildcard then approaches his own trashcan, collecting from it barbed wire wrapped two-by-four! Mason sees the weapon, and quickly rolls beneath the bottom rope, but Jason Randall is in hot pursuit. He charges at the ropes…
Anzu Kurosawa: "SUICIDE DIVE!! With a barbed wire wrapped two-by-four in hand!!"
Mason sprawls to the ground and the fans pop for the move, but Jason Randall doesn’t let up for a moment. He drags Jeffry’s face up from the sand and begins to grind the barbed wire across his forehead, bringing a trickle of blood from Mason’s head too…
***
<< 07:14. >>
Both men are back in the ring, with Randall on the ascendancy after a lengthy sleeper hold and then a side suplex. He returns to his trashcan and from it produces a set of brass knucks, which he puts into place. He waits in his corner for Mason to get to his feet, but Jeffry sees him coming and responds with a forearm strike… then a straight right hand… then a headbutt! Randall is rocked by the move, and Mason drags him into position near the gusset board he set up in the corner…
Anzu Kurosawa: "Jeffry Mason going for maybe an exploder suplex here on those gusset boards, but Jason Randall wants none of it… he throws elbows into the side of the Saviour’s head…"
This tactic causes some separation, with Mason throwing his head in for a BIG headbutt… only for Randall to meet it with a right hand! With the brass knucks!!
Thomas West: "Mason might be out cold! BIG right hand from Jason Randall!"
Randall goes for a cover…
ONE… TWO… THRE – NO!!
Anzu Kurosawa: "Two point nine recurring!"
Thomas West: "That’s mathematically incorrect, but I get your point."
***
<< 11:31. >>
Both men now fighting on their reserves, both Mason and Randall exchange right hands in the middle of the ring. Their exhaustion is clear, each blow - both given and received - clearly taking it out of them as they continue to trade off… Randall, after seemingly an eternity, gets the better thanks to a combination of a straight right, a roaring elbow, and then - after Mason has sunk to his knees - a ripcord knee strike. Mason is on jelly-legs, and with a primal roar the Wildcard charges off the ropes, looking to take Jeffry’s head off with a discus lariat… only for Jeffry to duck beneath it, and then respond with a headbutt, then a second… then a massive King Kong lariat turns Jason Randall inside out!! The crowd are going absolutely ballistic as both men lie face down in the ring…
Thomas West: "A heavy exchange there between the Wildcard and the Saviour of Death… and neither man comes out on top of it!"
Anzu Kurosawa: "Neither man is even standing! This is every bit the slugfest we expected it would be!!"
Eventually, with the crowd cheering them on (mostly Randall, it seems, but with pockets of support for the deathmatch legend amongst fans of the artform), the two men get back to their feet. They are standing in their respective corners, next to the trashcans they brought with them at the start of the match. Both of them reach for the cans and lift them up, but it seems that both are empty, at least of large objects.
Thomas West: "Well, I guess now they’re empty, they just intend to beat each other with the cans themselves?"
Not quite… Jason Randall moves first, and much to the fans’ delight he pours thousands upon thousands of thumbtacks into the middle of the ring. This delights nobody more than it does Jeffry Mason. After Randall discards his can by throwing it out of the ring, Jeffry pours his out on top of the Wildcard’s… shards of glass, large and small but all of them jagged and deadly, scatter amongst the thumb tacks that Randall introduced. The crowd continue to go wild as Mason throws his trashcan out of the ring, too.
Anzu Kurosawa: "Things just turned up a notch…"
The two immediately charge through the shards and tacks, glass crunching underfoot, and Randall goes for a clothesline. Mason ducks beneath it and shifts into a rear waistlock, looking to German suplex the Wildcard into the glass and tacks… Randall overrotates, though, and is able to land on his feet!
Thomas West: "Jeffry Mason sends himself into the tacks, and Randall remains somewhat unscathed!"
Jeffry winces but drags himself up, where Randall is waiting for him with a series of stiff open hand palm strikes. Mason recoils into the corner (the one, unbeknownst to him, where he left the gusset board earlier in the match), and after a trio of hard forearm strikes and a discuss elbow, Randall takes him in a reverse facelock…
Anzu Kurosawa: "Inverted DDT!! Onto the razor sharp spikes of that gusset board!!"
Mason writhes in agony and rolls away from the gusset board, accidentally rolling through the glass and tacks in an effort to get away from it. Randall, though, picks the board up, along with the discarded bat from earlier in the match. With Mason getting respite in the corner, the Wildcard forces the board into his forehead, forcing the razor sharp edges into his skin with the end of his baseball bat!! When Randall backs away, the gusset board stays in position on Mason’s head!
Randall hoists Jeffry Mason up to his feet and onto his shoulders with a fireman’s carry, most likely looking for a Death Valley Driver onto the glass and tacks, but Mason senses his peril and thuds into the Wildcard’s head with elbow strikes. Randall loses his balance and stumbles into the ring ropes, both men flying over the top of them and landing in a heap on the outside…
Thomas West: "Neither man is able to follow up, and this one rolls on!!"
Anzu Kurosawa: "Mason has managed to get the gusset board out of his head, at least…"
***
<< 16:58. >>
Inside the ring, Mason has Randall up in a seated position on the top rope, and begins to follow him up, all-the-while connecting with right hands whilst making his ascent. Mason looks unsteady, as does Randall, and the Saviour of Death struggles to keep the Wildcard from teetering off altogether. Eventually, Mason gets into position on the second rope and applies a front facelock…
Anzu Kurosawa: "Jeffry Mason going for a superplex here, and the ringmat below is a warzone… shards and tacks await their fall… this is surely a bad idea for both men!"
Mason means to see it through, though. He hooks the arm and attempts to wrench Randall up, but Jason holds the top rope with one hand and, on adrenaline alone, lays into Mason’s ribs with the other. Eventually, this causes enough separation for the Wildcard to follow up with a big headbutt of his own, rocking Jeffry and almost causing him to fall back into the ring. Randall catches him before he does, though, and - with Mason still standing on the second ropes - he steps up onto the top turnbuckle. The Wildcard leaps over the top of Jeffry Mason and drives him down onto the glass and tacks with a sunset flip powerbomb!! The crowd collectively winces at the move, and Randall sinks into a cover…
ONE… TWO… THRE - NO!
Anzu Kurosawa: "Somehow! Someway! Jeffry Mason kicks out and stays in this match-up!"
Thomas West: "This is that deathmatch experience we talked about… this isn’t Jeffry’s first rodeo! He’s used to glass! He’s used to tacks!"
Randall knows this, too, and he goes back to work. He picks Mason up and applies a front facelock, shaping up for his Wildcard Special, a favoured move when thumb tacks are in play. Mason, though, senses it’s coming, and fights out of the facelock with a European uppercut… before hurling a handful of glass and tacks into Randall’s face!! The Wildcard recoils, and the momentarily blindness is enough for Mason. He doubles Randall over with a boot to the midsection and crunches him with a piledriver!!
Anzu Kurosawa: "Each and every move is made more devastating by what these men have collectively done to the ringmat… Jason Randall was spiked into glass and thumb tacks with that piledriver!"
You get the sense that Mason could, perhaps, pin Randall right there… but instead, he places him in the dragon clutch!
Anzu Kurosawa: "That’s ‘Lock of Ages’!"
Thomas West: "Lock of Ages... I like that."
Jeffry Mason wrenches hard with his patented submission, giving Jason Randall no choice but to tap!
{RESULT}Winner: Jeffry Mason by submission at 19:42.
Jeffry Mason rolls off Jason Randall and gets to his feet, but spits blood at the match official when he comes close to him in an attempt to raise his hand.
Natalie Rosenberg: "Here is your winner… Jeffry Mason!!"
Thomas West: "Well, these two men came here to fight and did exactly that… an absolute war between Jason Randall and Jeffry Mason, but at the end of it it’s ‘the Saviour of Death’ who comes out on top."
Anzu Kurosawa: "Both men showed why they’re renowned as experts in this type of match-up, but ‘the Wildcard’ comes up short. Jeffry Mason, who surprised us with his participation in this tournament, has not surprised anyone with that display of violence in Stage One."
Thomas West: "And now Stage Two awaits…"
The camera watches a bloody Jeffry Mason walk up the ramp as we fade away from the scene.
We cut to the backstage area, and specifically to a corridor that leads to a door marked as the 'EXIT'. Walking down the corridor is Jeremy Best, who - despite his belief that he's managed to get out of the tournament - still looks a little jumpy. His unease has him looking over his shoulder as he matches towards the exit, his gear bag - seemingly larger and more full than usual - slung over his shoulder.
As Jeremy emerges outside the building, it is noticeable (probably because of the wide, vast, expansive desert surrounding him) that he is alone. No Scorpane, who is currently engaged with Cthulhu's Nephews, and no Baxter, who wasn't allowed to accompany him. No Krash, either. At least the driver that he'd been assigned was still here, waiting inside the car he'd been assigned.
Also present, and only detected by the wrestler after a few brief moments, is Katie Baxter. She's holding a microphone and waves at Jeremy after he notes her presence. Best looks longingly at the vehicle that would, if he could only get into it, take him far away from this place, before letting out a regretful groan and allowing the interviewer to approach.
Katie Baxter: "Jeremy, it's surprising to find you back here in the parking area. You can barely hear the fans from back here. Shouldn’t you be getting ready for your match?"
Jeremy Best: "I think you’re mistaken, Katie. Haven’t you been watching the show?"
Katie Baxter: "No… I don’t think I’m mistaken…"
Jeremy Best: "I got out of the tournament. I found a very nice gentleman who was willing to stand in for me, and now I very much intend to leave this place. Maybe go back to Friendship for a few days. Do something to settle my nerves."
Baxter (and a decidedly less friendly Baxter than one Jeremy would’ve enjoyed conversing with at this moment) smiled nervously. An awkward silence lingered.
Katie Baxter: "Umm… I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, especially given your recent history, but… I'm afraid the Alyster Black imposter was already in the tournament. By giving him your spot, all you did is open up his, which the KODM Committee is now insisting you take."
Jeremy turns white as a sheet, somewhat flabbergasted by Baxter's proclamation.
Jeremy Best: "The 'KODM Committee'? I've never even heard of this before."
Baxter just shrugs.
Katie Baxter: "Apparently that's a thing. Cheer up, though: you’re going to be in the main event."
Jeremy gulps.
Jeremy Best: "Main event? But… that means…"
Baxter can’t help but smile.
Katie Baxter: "Yep... And the Committee also asked me to inform you that, if you aren't ready to go when your music plays later tonight, you'll be stripped of your opportunity at the FWA World Tag Team Championships at the Carnal Contendership show…"
Best says nothing for a moment as despair descends over him. He glares at the camera lens and then at the interviewer.
Jeremy Best: "Fake Alyster could've told me he was already in the tournament. That wasn't very friendly."
Katie Baxter: "Every wrestler who's here is here for the tournament, Jeremy. So unless you can convince Todd or I to take your place, I think you're out of look."
Best offers her an anxious smile.
Jeremy Best: "So, how about it? Ever dreamt of being a Queen?"
Katie Baxter: "I think you should probably go and get ready."
With one more thoroughly despondent sigh, Jeremy heads back inside the building.
We cut to the backstage area, specifically the now-familiar Gorilla position, where Todd Salum is ready with his trusty microphone. Standing next to him, pacing back and forth in what seems to the viewer to be almost nervous excitement, is ‘the Saviour of Death’ Jeffry Mason. His face and his torso is still covered in blood from his match. He clearly hasn’t yet been to the medical bay and it’s not obvious whether he will at all. He seems to be in his element. He’s been joined backstage by Reagan Cole, who stands to one side awkwardly, perhaps less pleased about his alleged mentor’s participation in the tournament.
Todd Salum: "Ladies and gentlemen, I have the opportunity to get a word now with one of tonight’s surprise entrants, and two of the combatants safely through to Stage Two. Jeffry, Reagan… congratulations on your wins tonight."
Mason stops pacing to let out a low chuckle.
Jeffry Mason: "Todd, there’s so much wrong with that introduction. Firstly: ladies and gentlemen? It’s 2023. Secondly, this is a deathmatch tournament… the King of the Deathmatch... and you are surprised that ‘the Saviour of Death’ is here? Thirdly: nobody is safe in this tournament… and there should be no congratulations! Tomorrow will bring only more blood and more pain - you should be commiserating our opponents, Todd… not congratulating them for prolonging their own miseries."
Salum offers the microphone across to the other man…
Reagan Cole: "Um, thanks, I guess."
Todd Salum: "Both of your participation in KODM2, as well as your progression into the latter stages, begs the question as to what you will do if you meet in the final, or on the road to it? You can’t both become the FWA X Champion…"
More chuckles from Jeffry.
Jeffry Mason: "The FWA X Championship... who cares? Reagan can have it. Or, if he has any sense and doesn’t want it, I’ll throw it in the trash. Dethroning Alyster Black has some worth, and that Crown of Thorns will look good atop my head… but I’m not here for physical heirlooms. A title is much more than that, especially one won with blood."
The ominous and graphic imagery of Jeffry Mason is undercut, somewhat, when Randy Newman’s You’ve Got a Friend in Me - albeit a bastardised version thereof - begins to play in the makeshift arena. We can hear the muffled sound of it in Gorilla, and a moment later we see a petrified-looking Jeremy Best wandering through the room. He walks right past Jeffry Mason and Reagan Cole on his way to the curtain.
Jeffry Mason: "Good luck out there, kid."
Jeremy turns to face Jeffry and can’t help but notice the pints of blood that he’s covered in. He grows paler still, his mouth more agape, before he slaps himself twice across the face and heads for the curtain. Mason and Cole are left with the interviewer.
Jeffry Mason: "Until tomorrow, Todd…"
The two quarter finalists leave, and Salum looks at the camera.
Todd Salum: "Well… it’s time… for the main event!"
{YOU GOT A FRIEND IN ME (SLOWED) || RANDY NEWMAN}[MEDIA=youtube]vQ6uu6wH6Uw[/MEDIA]
The first time we heard this music today, there was a short but noticeable pause between its opening notes and the appearance of the wrestler it heralds. This second time, that pause lasts until the first chorus, Best eventually appearing on stage and looking a little worse for wear. He seems extremely unsure of himself as he surveys the audience (who aren’t even booing him – they’re cheering for his oncoming demolition) and then his eyes fall upon the ring. Once more, we see Jeremy take an audible gulp before he begins down the ramp.
Natalie Rosenberg: "… from Friendship, North Carolina… weighing in at one hundred and eighty pounds… JEREMY… BEST!!"
Anzu Kurosawa: "Well… Jeremy tried to get out of his commitments here at KODM2 once this evening, but it looks like those obligations have caught up to him. And what’s more, he’s traded an uncomfortable and doubtlessly barbaric encounter with Violet Dreyer for an uncomfortable and doubtlessly barbaric encounter with Alyster Black. I think that’s quite a pointless deal."
Thomas West: "I don’t think it’s the one that Jeremy Best thought he was making… but you’re right, our Best Friend doesn’t look like he’s relishing the opponent that is about to appear. The other seventeen have already been introduced… it’s time we got to the champion."
Jeremy Best stands awkwardly in the ring, again rotating on the spot to look around himself, perhaps even looking for an exit. His music fades out, and then we hear…
{SONNE || RAMMSTEIN}[MEDIA=youtube]YtEWoavDlcM[/MEDIA]
There’s a deafening roar in the desert as Alyster Black walks out onto the stage, his championship belt in tow. He looks to be moving quite gingerly, perhaps as a result of the attack we saw earlier in the day, as he wanders across the stage under the moonlight. He arrives at the platform, already housing the Crown of Thorns. He picks this object up and inspects it… and then looks at his belt.
Anzu Kurosawa: "Five hundred and eighteen days… that’s how long Alyster Black has held that championship. Longer than anyone else in the belt’s sixteen year history. But this weekend he knows he faces perhaps his toughest challenge yet."
Thomas West: "Or his biggest opportunity. That Crown of Thorns means something, too! And Alyster should be careful handling it until he’s earned it…"
Black carefully places his FWA X Championship upon the podium, positioning the Crown of Thorns on top of it. He takes a deep breath, and then turns to face Jeremy Best in the ring.
Natalie Rosenberg: "… currently residing in San Dimas, California and weighing in at two hundred and twenty pounds… he is the current, reigning, and defending FWA X Champion… ALYSTER… BLACK!!"
In silence, Alyster begins his walk down the ramp.
Anzu Kurosawa: "It’s been a long road to this point for Alyster, both in terms of that gargantuan reign with the X Championship and the arduous weeks leading up to the tournament. Black has been repeatedly targeted by an imposter, dressed up exactly like him, the latest of these assaults occurring earlier on today as he prepared for this championship defence."
Thomas West: "Speaking of championship defences: it’s worthy of note that the title is NOT on the line in this individual match-up, or in any in the tournament. If Black were to lose before the final, the belt would remain vacant between that point and the crowning of a new champion at its climax."
Anzu Kurosawa: "A technicality that Ayster, no doubt, will hope proves irrelevant."
Black climbs into the ring and stands in his corner, his eyes fixed upon Best in the opposite one. Jeremy is white as a sheet, leaning against the turnbuckles to create the maximum amount of distance between himself and the champion. Black continues to glare at him in foreboding fashion.
For the last time today, with the moon now high above the desert, the referee calls for the bell.
MATCH NINE - MAIN EVENT Alyster Black vs. Jeremy Best. X Rules Deathmatch. Round One.
<< 00:00. >>
As soon as the match kicks off, Jeremy Best scampers through the ropes and onto the outside, where he looks up at Alyster with plain fear, his hands on his hips and his knees trembling. He begins to circle the ring, eyes fixed on his looming opponent, who remains stationary in his corner.
Thomas West: "Jeremy Best looks more than a little anxious about this main event match-up… though he has faced and beaten Alyster Black in the past."
Anzu Kurosawa: "In the past, maybe. And not under X Rules. This is undeniably Alyster’s world, and Jeremy is not best pleased about being trapped in it."
After making a full circuit of the ring, Jeremy climbs back in. He circles it this way and that, but Alyster remains unmoved. Jeremy thinks about coming forward… and then retreats again, electing instead to climb back out of the ring. Jeremy Best is pacing outside of the ring, going back and forth, his head bowed and muttering frantically to himself. Nobody can hear it, but it is mostly gibberish, the internal monologue of a man plagued by fear…
… but it’s enough to distract him, as Alyster charges across the ring and takes Best out with a Fosbury flop!! The crowd pops for the move, and Black immediately climbs to his feet, grabs Best by the scruff of the neck, and fires into him with right hands and forearms. Best does his best to throw up a guard, but Black picks him up and hurls him into the steel ring steps! It’s not an Irish whip, just an ugly throw by the straps of Best’s singlet, and Jeremy collides with the steps with his shoulder and stays there in a seated position. Alyster continues the onslaught, nailing him with a dozen stomps, driving Best’s head against the steel. He backs away, charging in with a facewash against the steel steps!! And then a running knee strike!! Black slumps to the ground as the crowd goes wild…
Thomas West: "I think Best is out…"
Anzu Kurosawa: "I think Best is dead…"
Black isn’t content with a pin just yet, instead collecting two tables that are propped up against a nearby barricade. He slides one into the ring and sets up the second on the outside. When he’s done, he goes back to find Best… and finds his boot beneath the ring apron. Alyster shakes his head and drags Best out by the boot, hoists him up to his feet, and runs him first head-first into the steel post, before Irish whipping him into the barricade. He follows up with alternating forearms and right hands, each one thudding into Jeremy Best to the delight of the fans close around it…
<< 05:03. >>
The one-sided attack continues, with Alyster Black dragging Jeremy up onto the apron and then hoisting him up onto his shoulders in a fireman’s carry… before delivering a devastating Death Valley Driver on the ring apron!
Thomas West: "You think that’s a message to the imposter, Anzu? We saw the other Alyster Black hit a DVD earlier on today…"
Anzu Kurosawa: "I think Alyster Black is just going about his business… and maybe working through some of his own issues along the way."
Black is far from done. He hoists Jeremy up again, and once more lifts him onto his shoulders, hitting a second Death Valley Driver on the apron! This time, Best (perhaps wisely) rolls off the apron and away from Black, but Alyster follows him. He drags Best’s head into position between his legs and picks him up, perhaps going for a powerbomb onto the ring apron… but Best begins to fight out with straight right hands, and then he rolls Alyster up with a sunset flip! Black’s shoulders are down outside the ring!
ONE… TWO… NO!
Alyster kicks out, and both men scramble to their feet. Best looks for a clothesline, but Alyster ducks beneath it and then connects with a high knee! Jeremy is staggered, almost falling backwards into the table, but Black grabs him by the hair, throws him chest-first into the ring apron, and then connects with a dragon suplex on the outside! After taking a few deep breaths, most of his exertion involving his sustained offence, Black rolls Jeremy back into the ring…
<< 08:12. >>
Alyster now has the other table set up at an angle in the corner, and - with Jeremy laid out after a pendulum backbreaker - he climbs out of the ring to again search underneath it. He looks in a very specific position and produces a black, leather gym bag, which he pushes into the ring.
Anzu Kurosawa: "Looks like Alyster Black brought something with him…"
Thomas West: "I dread to think what that maniac packs for a deathmatch tournament."
Alyster doesn’t yet climb into the ring, instead looking beneath it again to produce a large, pale grey cinder block. The crowd’s excitement grows as he pushes that into the ring next to his bag. He climbs into the ring and saunters over towards Best, who is still spread-eagled in the middle of the ring… but is playing Possum! Jeremy with the small package!
ONE… TWO… NO!
After both men climb up to their feet, Jeremy attempts to scramble backwards and out of the ring. Alyster catches him when he’s on the apron, though, and has a fist full of his hair. He drags Jeremy into a front facelock, attempting to bring him into the ring the hard way with a suplex. Best grips onto the ropes to block it, and then rakes Black’s eyes! He follows up by bringing Alyster down throat-first over the top rope, causing Alyster to stumble into the middle of the ring. Best sizes him up, springboarding to the top rope and going for a cross-body…
Anzu Kurosawa: "ROLLING ELBOW!! Effective anti-air from Alyster Black!!"
Once more, Jeremy tries to roll out of the ring, but Alyster catches up with him on the apron. It just so happens to be the one overlooking the table that they set up earlier. Black drags his opponent up to his feet and manoeuvres him into position…
Thomas West: "SAITO SUPLEX!! From the apron, through the table!!"
The move seems to have had some effect on Alyster, too, but eventually he drags himself up to his feet, the crowd cheering him on as he continues the attack…
<< 12:15. >>
After some time whipping and choking Best with a long length of television wire, Alyster leaves Jeremy in a seated position against the barricade whilst he collects his gym bag. There’s a slight hush amongst the crowd as he opens it, the fans creeping closer to get a better look of what’s inside… and Alyster produces a shard of glass! It’s a piece of broken mirror, in fact, which becomes clear when he holds it up beneath the moonlight.
Thomas West: "Alyster Black isn’t content with beating Jeremy Best here… looks like he wants to disfigure him!"
That does indeed seem to be the intent… Black begins to bring the jagged edge of his broken mirror-glass down across the forehead of Best, instantly cutting him open with each and every strike! He manages four in total, blood beginning to flow freely from Jeremy Best’s head, before his opponent unloads with a desperation strike… Best lifts his knee up into Black’s crotch, the crude move causing enough respite from the attacks with the glass for him to get to his feet and connect with some Friendly Fire… the rapid kicks back Black up enough for Jeremy to lock his arms at his sides with a tight hug, before he throws him onto the hard desert sand with a belly-to-belly suplex! Best with the cover…
ONE… TWO… T – NO!
Alsyter gets the shoulder up! Best, thinking that his best chance, throws Black underneath the bottom rope and climbs up to the top turnbuckle. He waits patiently for Alyster to get to his feet before steadying himself on the top rope…
Anzu Kurosawa: "Jeremy Best going for a top rope hurricanrana… but Alyster Black catches him! Impressive display from Alyter Black!"
Alyster jerks Jeremy back up into an inverted, seated position on his shoulders, and then turns towards the angled table in the corner. He takes a couple of steps towards it before throwing him through the wood with a powerbomb!!
Anzu Kurosawa: "Surely, now, Alyster Black can finish this match… Jeremy Best has had enough!"
Thomas West: "That point is debatable, Anzu."
Alyster seems to be debating this very point himself, and eventually he grabs Jeremy by the boot and drags him into the middle of the ring. He glances over at the cinder block that he retrieved from under the ring earlier in the contest, and then reaches down to collect Jeremy…
But the crowd’s suddenly heightened intensity alerts him to the presence of another in the ring. Now standing behind him is a carbon copy of the man himself… a familiar doppelganger, with his recognisable variant: cobalt detailing around the eyes of his mask.
Anzu Kurosawa: "He’s here! The fake Alyster Black is in the ring!"
The X Championship realises that something is up and throws Best’s almost lifeless form down to the mat. He turns around…
… and the imposter runs through him with a One Shot Kill!! The thudding clothesline sends Alyster down to the mat, next to Jeremy Best, and for a moment the fake ‘Alyster Black’ looms above both of them.
Anzu Kurosawa: "This business isn’t finished! This is Alyster Black’s FWA X Championship reign! His record-breaking reign!"
Thomas West: "Whoever this is, I don’t think they care."
‘Alyster’ lifts up his original and puts him in a front facelock, dropping him to the mat with a high-angle Satan’s Spike. This, alone, should be enough, but the unwanted interloper is not finished. He collects the cinder block and pulls it into position in the middle of the ring. He is able to drag the lifeless Alyster into position, stomach-done with his face upon the brick.
Anzu Kurosawa: "We saw this earlier today in the desert… once was insulting enough… CURBSTOMP! Onto the cinder block!!"
Thomas West: "That’s enough for anyone…"
Anzu Kurosawa: "I’m just…"
‘Alyster’ rolls Alyster over onto his front and then, casually, climbs out of the ring, awaiting the match’s conclusion.
Amidst a torrent of boos, which get only louder when they see what is happening in the ring, Jeremy Best crawls towards Alyster, draping an arm over him.
ONE…
TWO…
THREE!!
{RESULT}Winner: Jeremy Best by pinfall at 16:58.
For a moment, there is a shocked silence. The commentators don’t speak. Neither does the ring announcer. Even the fans are muted. Inside the ring, Jeremy Best still lays atop Alyster Black. The official is on his knees, a look of shock on his face.
Then, Jeremy’s music begins to play, and the storm of derision begins. The fans let their feelings be known as the official works on helping Best up to his feet.
Natalie Rosenberg: "Here is your winner… Jeremy Best!!"
Anzu Kurosawa: "I can't believe it's over… and I can't believe it ended in that way… Alyster Black's historic reign with the FWA X Championship concludes after five hundred and fourteen days."
Thomas West: "Jeremy Best may not yet be the champion, but he can now boast about being the man to have ended Black's incredible run."
Anzu Kurosawa: "I think he'll have to share the credit…"
With Best just about back up to his feet, the official lists his arm into the air, signalling his victory. The audience is as dumbstruck as Anzu, staring at the man in the ring with shock, confusion, and outrage on their faces…
… and then there's something of a commotion, as all eyes turn towards the stage.
Thomas West: "That's Violet Dreyer! Is she here to rescue Alyster Black?"
Anzu Kurosawa: "I think she's just after Jeremy Best's head, buddy!"
Violet matches directly for the ring, and as soon as Jeremy realises this he scarpers out of it. He clambers over the barricade and heads off through the crowd and across the desert, with Violet Dreyer in hot pursuit!
Which leaves Alyster Black in the ring, but he is not alone. The imposter is standing in the corner, leaning up against the turnbuckles, inspecting his handiwork. The FWA X Champion - no: the former FWA X Champion now, although that doesn't sound right - has remained unmoved since the culmination of the attack. Only now, he begins to stir, his arms moving only slightly at first, and then at length he pushes himself up onto his hands and knees…
… and sees this mirror image of himself, standing over him, gloating almost.
Anzu Kurosawa: "If this interloper intends to continue this attack, I fear that will prove only redundant and deeply unpopular… Alyster Black is in a bad way… I don't even know if he realises he's lost his championship yet!"
Black forces himself up onto his knees. He looks at his assailant defiantly, and lifts both middle fingers up in his direction.
After a deep breath, the mirror image runs through the former champion with a bicycle knee strike!!
Anzu Kurosawa: "… wait!"
Thomas West: "… no!"
Whilst standing over the fallen and brutalised body of the real Alyster Black, the imposter removes his mask…
Anzu Kurosawa: "IT'S HIM!! DANNY TONER IS BACK IN THE FWA!!"
Thomas West: "And has been for weeks, apparently! Danny Toner has returned, and the destruction of Alyster Black seems his only goal!!"
With the crowd losing their mind around him, Danny reaches down towards his adversary's mask… but as his fingers brush against it, he notices the army of security and officials charging to the ring. He thinks that, perhaps, today is not the day, and climbs out of the ring.
We fade out on Stage One.
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Post by supinesnake on May 28, 2024 21:09:42 GMT
After a video package reminding everybody of yesterday's action, the camera settles on the announce booth, where Thomas West sits alongside Anzu Kurosawa beneath the hot, late morning sun in the North American desert. Despite both of them having cause to be downcast today - Anzu for her loss to Caesar during Stage One, and Thomas for the appointed passing of the torch in terms of his Crown of Thorns - they are each smiling at the camera as they introduce us to the show.
Anzu Kurosawa: "Welcome back to the King of the Deathmatch 2023! Stage One is in the books, with nine combatants punching their place into these latter stages of the tournament, and seven more exciting contests await us before we crown our new Monarch of Masochism!"
As the commentators talk, the camera pans around the ring, and we notice that it has been prepared for a special type of match-up. Just like for the opening contest of last year's tournament, three quarters of the perimeter of the ring has been surrounded by light tubes. These tubes are stood vertically and threaded in-between the ropes so they remain so.
Thomas West: "And, only slightly less importantly, we will crown a new FWA X Champion for the first time in nearly eighteen months! Alyster Black was pinned by Jeremy Best during the shocking conclusion of Stage One, which also saw the revelation of Danny Toner as our mysterious imposter."
Anzu Kurosawa: “I’ve been told that we’re due to hear more from Danny Toner tomorrow night as part of The Grand March in Chicago, Illinois, and perhaps we’ll get some insight as to why he did what he did at the end of Stage One…”
Thomas West: “I’m not sure there needs to be an explanation. Danny Toner is a schmuck, and he pounced at the opportunity to finish an historical reign.”
Outside the ring, propped up against the apron, are a huge number of light tube bundles: six tubes used in each of them, tightly fastened together to form a hexagonal prism. At each corner are demonic structures made of a lattice of criss-crossing light tubes, standing as high as the ring steps. The camera finishes its tracking shot over this startling array before settling on the stage ..
Anzu Kurosawa: "After five hundred and fourteen days, that historical era of Alyster Black has finally come to an end… today, a new one begins. I think it's about time that we got things started!"
{PAINT IT, BLACK || THE ROLLING STONES}[MEDIA=youtube]O4irXQhgMqg[/MEDIA]
There's a mixed reaction for Kleio De Santos as she appears on stage, her shoulder still bandaged up from yesterday (but the blood cleared away, at least). She walks past the podium, noticing that the FWA X Championship has been added to the Crown of Thrones atop it and stopping to regard both prizes carefully, before beginning her descent to the ring…
Natalie Rosenberg: "The following is your first of four quarter-final matches in the King of the Deathmatch, 2023… and is a 10,000 Light Tubes Can’t Be Wrong Deathmatch!! Introducing first… weighing in at one hundred and fifteen pounds… from Rio De Janiero, Brazil… ‘The Boa Constrictor’... KLEIO DE SAAAAANTOOOOOOOS!"
Anzu Kurosawa: "KDS continued her fine KODM-form with a win yesterday over Dan Maskell, with the young woman no doubt hoping that she can go one better than her dazzling runner up performance in 2022's tournament."
Kleio climbs into the ring via the one side that is not blocked by a wall of light tubes and limbers up in a corner. She stares down the ramp at the entrance, just as…
{A NEW ADVENTURE || Thomas Barbrook}[MEDIA=youtube]zWIBd9LEWZI[/MEDIA]
Yuna Funanori appears on the stage to a loud pop, accompanied by her entire crew: Oliver Corsair, Peg Leg Ned, Salvador Mendoza, Bad Henry, 'Jolly' Roger, and of course Patches the Parrott are all in attendance. They join the crowd in excitedly cheering 'the Last Great Adventurer' as she enthusiastically makes her way to the ring.
Natalie Rosenberg: "And his opponent, accompanied to the ring by the Crew of Friendship… from Tokyo, Japan by the way of the Isle of Tortuga… weighing in at one hundred and fourteen pounds… ‘the Last Great Adventurer’... YUNA… FUNANORI!!"
Thomas West: "Yuna returned in yesterday's opening contest, where she made short work of Sawyer Xavier, picking up the win in just under a minute."
Anzu Kurosawa: "And, don't forget, we also saw her interacting with Kleio De Santos, her opponent today, after her match yesterday. No doubt Yuna's intentions were friendly and honourable, but I'm not sure KDS saw it that way…"
Yuna climbs into the ring, offering De Santos a bright smile and a warm wave. The Boa Constrictor doesn't indulge in the same friendliness, instead staring ahead of herself at Funanori. Yuna's ship is still banked in the sand from yesterday and looks above the ring on the opposite side to the ramp. The referee, content that his final checks are complete, calls for the bell…
MATCH TEN
Kleio De Santos vs. Yuna Funanori.
10,000 Light Tubes Can’t Be Wrong Deathmatch.
Quarter Finals.
<< 00:00. >>
Fortunately for the baying and bloodthirsty crowd, there are no technical exchanges at the start of this one. Yuna immediately charges across the ring at Kleio, who ducks beneath the attempted clothesline and then catches Funanori with a mule kick. Kleio takes Yuna by the hair and trunks and hurls her shoulder first into one of the walls of lighttubes!! The pirate crunches into the tubes, smashing twenty or so of them upon impact, and falls into a heap on the mat. The broken and dislodged tubes fall down onto her, Kleio wasting no time in hoisting her up and putting her onto her shoulder.
Anzu Kurosawa: "This one is starting off at a million miles an hour, with KDS using those light tubes to her advantage almost instantly!"
Thomas West: "She remembers those light tubes and their devastating effect from last year. Today’s going to be a long day, I'm sure she doesn't want to drag this out any longer than necessary…"
Kleio looks to run Yuna across the ring, headfirst long-lance style into the opposite lighttube-wall, but Funanori slips out the back and then hits the turning De Santos with a step-up enziguri!! KDS is staggered by the move, and leans against the ropes for support, backing up against the light tubes… and Yuna runs through her with a spear!!! Both woman fly through the ring ropes, more broken light tube shards falling down atop of them as they sprawl on the outside!!!
***
<< 04:15. >>
Most of the match thus far has occurred on the outside, with both women now busted open on the head and shoulders from direct light tube shots. Kleio currently has the upper hand, and has Yuna backed up near one of the tall, lattice-like structures consisting of criss-crossing light tubes in a front face lock. She looks to be attempting a DDT onto this tube structure, but Yuna fights out with right hands to the ribs… and then she hoists her up for a Michinoku driver onto the glass!!! The structure explodes beneath De Santos' weight, shards flying everywhere as the crowd collectively winces. Yuna dives onto the pile, cutting herself up in the process, as she hooks the far leg for the cover.
ONE… TWO… TH – NO!
KDS kicks out, and Yuna proceeds to start fishing beneath the ring…
Anzu Kurosawa: "Doesn't look like Yuna is content with the weaponry on offer around the ring… she wants more! I've trained her well!"
Funanori eventually finds a table, proceeding to set that up outside of the ring (incidentally in the shadow of her adjacent pirate ship). She's not done there, though: she goes back under the ring and collects a large glass pane, roughly the same size as the table-top, which she places on top of the wood before turning back towards KDS. Kleio is waiting for her, though, and she tosses a lighttube bundle up for her to catch… and then nails her with a roundhouse kick!! The bundle of tubes pops in-between Kleio's boot and Yuna's face, the pirate slumping down to the ground immediately afterwards…
***
<< 08:11. >>
Still on the outside, Kleio doubles Yuna over with a boot to the midsection before dragging her head into position between her legs. She hoists her up into powerbomb position, and just so happens to be standing next to one of the lighttube walls on the ring’s perimeter… which she proceeds to throw Yuna into! Funanori’s back collides with the tubes before she lands in a heap on the ground. Kleio decides against covering Funanori right there, instead lifting the pirate up and pulling her head into position between her legs once again…
Thomas West: "Kleio De Santos looking for another powerbomb, lifting Yuna Funanori up a second time… but ‘the Last Great Adventurer’ reverses with a hurricanrana!"
Anzu Kurosawa: "‘The Boa Constrictor’ perhaps returning to the same well once too often… but to her credit she fights right back up to her feet."
De Santos swings for the fences with an attempted right hook, but Yuna ducks it and clasps KDS close to her. She looks behind her, noticing that a second of the lighttube lattice structures is in prime position… before connecting with a Spanish Fly!!
Anzu Kurosawa: "PIRATE’S PLUNGE!! Into the glass!"
The two land in the pile of lighttubes, and it’s debatable which of them came off worse from the attack. Yuna rolls off the pile, barely able to stand, riddled with fresh cuts already and not yet quite ready to follow up…
***
<< 10:51. >>
With KDS incapacitated after Yuna’s ‘Captain Hook’ (a running spinning uppercut), the pirate proceeds to drag the top half of the steel ring steps from its base and set it up near the table she produced earlier. She also collects a trio of light tube bundles that are propped up against the barricade, placing them on top of the steel steps and returning to KDS. She nails ‘the Boa Constrictor’ with a series of forearms before dragging her over to her makeshift steps-and-tubes construction. After a deep breath, she hops up onto KDS’s shoulders…
Anzu Kurosawa: "Yuna perhaps looking for her spike hurricanrana, the ‘Anchor Drop’... but Kleio shows her strength!"
KDS is able to grasp Yuna’s thighs and stop her from completing the move. De Santos stumbles backwards, away from the steel steps and with Yuna still grasped, upside down, and simply swings the pirate into a nearby light tube bundle that’s propped up against the barricade! The bundle explodes and Yuna lies in the resultant shards, De Santos stumbling back into a seated position with her back against the ring. The camera shows a close-up of her bloody visage, the proverbial crimson mask concealing her countenance as she drags herself back up to her feet. She collects Yuna in a front facelock and drags her over to the steel steps, the trio of bundles still atop them, looking for Letters to Kleio… only for Yuna to drive Kleio back and into the steel ring post! Kleio is forced to relinquish the facelock, and Yuna instantly grabs two of the lighttubes in position around the ring, bringing them both down consecutively over Kleio’s head! De Santos sinks to her knees, but stares up at Yuna defiantly…
The pirate grabs two more tubes, bringing them down over De Santos’ head too!
But KDS lets out a roar! She gets up to her feet, willing Yuna to do her worst…
… and Funanori connects with a spike hurricanrana!!
Thomas West: "Anchor Drop! Kleio De Santos is spiked onto her head onto the hard desert sand!!"
Funanori, after sucking in some deep and hard-won lungfuls of oxygen, picks Kleio up and drags her around to the table and glass pane she set up earlier in the match. She first throws Funanori down face-first onto the ring apron and then lies her down on top of the wood and glass. Then, she looks upwards… but not towards the ring, instead towards her ship, and specifically the plank that we now see looming above Kleio’s prone position.
Anzu Kurosawa: "Yuna Funanori is cooking up some bizarre ideas!!"
She climbs over the barricade and walks through the fans to her ship, grasping a rope ladder that is attached to one side of it and beginning the task of climbing onto the deck. It would be difficult for most people, even without the preceding deathmatch, but Yuna seems sure of foot as she ascends the rope ladder, eventually arriving at the base of the short, narrow plank.
Anzu Kurosawa: "This might be the first ever documented case of a pirate walking her own plank! You're witnessing history here, folks!!"
Yuna arrives at the end of the plank, the crowd and her crew willing her on as she looks down at Kleio, still lying on the table perhaps twenty feet below her… and then she leaps off, looking for Davy Jones’ Elbow Drop…
… but De Santos rolls out of the way!! Yuna Funanori crashes through the glass and the wood with a sickening thud, the audience gasping as she remains in a crumpled heat amongst the debris! Kleio, though, gives Yuna absolutely no time to rest, grasping her in a front facelock and dragging her over towards the steel ring steps…
Thomas West: "Letters to Kleio!! Shades of 2022!"
The trio of lighttube bundles atop the steps smashes and crunches beneath Yuna’s torso, the crowd going ballistic for the sudden torrent of violence. Kleio, exhausted, heaves Yuna off the steps and onto her back before hooking the far leg…
ONE… TWO… THREE!
{RESULT}Winner: Kleio De Santos via pinfall at 14:39.
It takes Kleio more than a little while to finally collect herself and climb back onto her feet, the official lifting her arm to signify her victory.
Natalie Rosenberg: "Here is your winner… Kleio De Santos!!"
Thomas West: "KDS continues on into the semi-final stage at the expense of the returning Yuna Funanori after a fast-paced and surprisingly barbaric contest…"
Anzu Kurosawa: "You should never be surprised when ‘the Last Great Adventurer’ is involved. She may have been eliminated here by a game KDS, but Yuna looked impressive after a long absence from the ring none-the-less. She did the dojo proud tonight."
We see a shot of the Crew of Friendship, the match official, and a couple of paramedics crowding around Yuna Funanori…
Thomas West: "You be sure to tell her that, just as soon as she gets out of the treatment room."
Back in the ring, Kleio has collected two of the unbroken light tubes and climbs to the second turnbuckle. She holds both of the sticks up into the air, parallel at first, but then sinking into an X, before she breaks both of them over the top rope. She hops down from the corner and, her music still playing, climbs out of the ring as we fade out.
We cut to the backstage area, where Todd Salum is standing by with one of our quarter finalists for the evening. She is instantly recognisable by her green mohawk, her impatient body language, and her nonplussed facial expression as Violet Dreyer.
Todd Salum: "I'm standing by at this time with Violet Dreyer, who overcame - with the help of the now former FWA X Champion himself - the masked Alyster Black imposter yesterday during Stage One… a man who we later found out to be none other than Danny Toner himself. Violet, what did you make of yesterday's explosive events?"
Violet glances at Salum with a cocked eyebrow.
Violet Dreyer: "Explosive? It was fucking something, Todd. I don't even have time to think on all that. Not Toner, and certainly not Alyster… besides, with those two heading back to civilisation, it allows me to concentrate on my real business…"
It's Todd's turn to raise an eyebrow questioningly (which makes sense, as he's the one asking the questions).
Todd Salum: "Which is?"
A smile passes over Violet's face.
Violet Dreyer: "Isn't that obvious?"
She turns to face the camera, as if she is directly addressing the man himself.
Violet Dreyer: "Jeremy Best. You disgusting, despicable coward. You miserable pipsqueak of a man. With every fucking round that passes by, and with every fucking match that you and I fucking scrape through, the chances of us meeting grow larger and larger. And you know what that means?"
She seems almost giddy with the mental image that presents itself to her.
Violet Dreyer: "I'd hope I lost before then. Live to fight another day, Jeremy. See you soon, fucker."
With that, she walks out of shot, leaving Todd to contemplate her eloquently vulgar and vulgarly eloquent words.
We open up on a shot of the ring, which has been transformed in preparation for the next quarter final match. Large poles are attached to each of the ring posts, and from these heavy chains criss-cross the ring, hanging from which are a variety of weapons. One of the four sides has a wall of a steel cage erected upon it, bound to the ring posts and the aforementioned poles, foreign objects like light tubes, a staple gun, cutlery, several black canvas bags, and more hanging from it. We cut away from this hotchpotch arrangement and to the stage in time for…
{FIREFLIES || OWL CITY}[MEDIA=youtube]QBgl4rVz3Ks[/MEDIA]
Trixie Bordeaux walks out onto the stage and, to be honest, she doesn't appear any less terrified than she was this time yesterday. She scans the audience, as white as a sheet, takes a deep breath, and then begins her anxious dawdle down the ramp.
Natalie Rosenberg: "The following quarter final match is the Clockwork Orange House of Fun Deathmatch! Introducing first… weighing in at one hundred and twenty five pounds… from Baton Rouge, Louisiana… BELLATRIX BORDEAUX!!"
Anzu Kurosawa: "Trixie Bordeaux is fresh off her first ever singles victory as a contracted FWA victory, defeating weaselperson during yesterday's Stage One proceedings."
Thomas West: "Doesn't look like that victory has done much - or anything - to settle her nerves… Trixie still looks petrified!"
Indeed, Trixie is so absent minded that she first almost falls up the steel ring steps on her way up them, and then trips over the bottom rope as she climbs into the ring. She quickly bounces back up and waits in the corner, her heavy breathing suggesting she's close to hyperventilation. Her music fades out and is replaced by…
{EVIL IS BUT A SHADOW || MILEY CYRUS}[MEDIA=youtube]BC5qrm0S_P0[/MEDIA]
There's a decidedly mixed reaction in the crowd as Jeffry Mason appears on stage, with your opinion on the man highly dependent on whether you're here as a fan of the FWA or deathmatches in general. Mason surveys the audience with something resembling a sneer on his face before he matches down the ramp.
Natalie Rosenberg: "And her opponent… from Calgary, Alberta, Canada and weighing in at two hundred and sixty two pounds… ‘the Saviour of Death’... JEFFRY MAAAAASOOOOOOON!"
Anzu Kurosawa: "'The Saviour of Death' was one of several surprise participants unveiled yesterday during Stage One, competing in something of an underground dream match against 'the Wildcard' Jason Randall."
Thomas West: "Those two men definitely lived up to their violent reputations… Jeffry Mason hasn't even changed his shirt!"
Indeed, half of Mason's white t-shirt is still stained a reddish brown, the remnants of both his blood and that of the Wildcard. He pauses at the bottom of the ramp, considering Trixie with a smirk, suggesting he is pleased with how the draw for this round has shaken out. He climbs into the ring, standing across it from Trixie, and waits for the opening bell…
MATCH ELEVEN
Jeffry Mason vs. Trixie Bordeaux.
Clockwork Orange House of Fun Deathmatch.
Quarter Finals.
<< 00:00. >>
There's a sense that Jeffry Mason perhaps isn't taking his opponent seriously as he circles the ring, a smirk still in position on his face. He shakes his head slightly as Trixie cranes her neck to take in the surrounding weaponry, hanging from chains and the cage wall, somewhat overwhelmed by the scene. She is almost frozen in position, until Jeffry stirs her into action by coming forward for a collar and elbow tie up, with Trixie duking beneath Mason's grasp… and then connecting with a kick to the side! And a second! Trixie reels off with a half-dozen rapid fire kicks before collecting Mason in a front facelock and delivering a tornado DDT!
Thomas West: "Trixie Bordeaux has almost surprised herself with that flurry of offence to kick things off!"
The tornado DDT has caused the apparatus set up around the ring (the poles, the chains, etc) to rattle, dislodging a kendo stick from its hanging position above it. It lands next to Trixie, who looks at the foreign object with wide eyes. She picks it up and scrambles to a vertical base as Jeffry does the same… and then brings the kendo stick down over his head! And a second time! The third strike breaks the kendo stick clean in two! Trixie takes the broken half of the kendo stick and places it across Mason's throat before delivering a Russian leg sweep! Trixie with the cover!
ONE… TWO… T – NO!
Anzu Kurosawa: "Trixie with the element of surprise, bowling Jeffry Mason over and almost picking up an immediate three count!"
***
<< 03:59. >>
Trixie has done a good job of maintaining her control of the match up until now, and has backed Mason up onto a seated position in the corner with a series of stomps. She backs away across the ring, shaping up for her 'Bundle of Fun' cannonball and enjoying the full support of the crowd. She charges across the ring, but in one fell swoop Mason grabs a nearby lighttube (hanging from the adjacent cage wall), uses the top rope to clamber to his feet, and brings the tube crashing down over Bordeaux's forehead! It pops as she falls down onto her knees, Mason wasting no time in hoisting her up into a powerbomb position and throwing her into the steel cage wall!
Anzu Kurosawa: "Jeffry Mason is really pushing home his advantage now, grinding Trixie's forehead against the cage wall!"
Thomas West: "I'm not sure if it was that steel mesh or the lighttube before it, but Bordeaux is busted wide open!"
Mason backs away from Trixie to pose for the fans, to the delight of a select few and the chagrin of the many, before unfastening a steel chair from a chain overhanging the ring. He waits patiently for Bordeaux to rise to her feet, before tossing the chair up for her to catch… and then driving the steel into her face with a Yakuza kick!
Anzu Kurosawa: "He calls that the Saigon Kick! And now the cover from Jeffry Mason…"
ONE… TWO… TH – NO!
Trixie forces the shoulder up, and Mason slaps off a sleeper hold…
***
<< 08:02. >>
After a lengthy period in a sleeper hold, at the end of which Trixie used the crowd's support to her advantage to force herself up to her feet, Jeffry re-asserts his dominance with a sleeper suplex, a Saito suplex, and then a German suplex, bridging for a cover after the trifecta is complete.
ONE… TWO… NO!
Trixie gets a shoulder up and then begins to crawl away from Mason towards the ropes, using them to climb back to her feet. Jeffry has sinister ideas, though…
Anzu Kurosawa: "Jeffry Mason is tying Trixie Bordeaux up in the ropes!! She's all tangled up with nowhere to go!!"
With Trixie fixed in position, Mason follows up with ten savage right hands before collecting a staplegun from its hanging position on the cage wall.
Thomas West: "We saw the damage that Jeffry Mason can do during his match with Jason Randall yesterday! This doesn't look good for Trixie Bordeaux!"
After holding the staplegun up high and firing a few warning shots into the air, Mason reaches into his back pocket and produces a wad of bills.
Jeffry Mason (off-mic): ”I got some singles just for you, Trix!"
Trixie struggles as Jeffry slowly saunters over to her, so much so that the poles on the turnbuckles continue to rattle, chains becoming loose and hanging limply around the ring. She can't get free, though, and only one option remains to her as Mason comes in close…
Anzu Kurosawa: "KICK TO THE GROIN!!"
After Jeffry keels over, the referee, somewhat surprisingly and maybe controversially, intervenes to help Trixie get loose from the ring ropes. Some of the crowd boo the official’s altruistic intent, but Bordeaux - her fight or flight instinct kicking in - promptly follows up by grabbing a nearby hanging chain and wrapping the end of it around Mason’s neck. After it’s tightly attached, she takes him by the scruff of the neck and hurls him over the top rope, ‘the Saviour of Death’ momentarily hanging limply, the chain growing tighter and tighter around his throat…
Anzu Kurosawa: "Bordeaux is choking Jeffry Mason out!! An unexpected display of barbarism from Trixie!!"
Thomas West: "Desperate times call for desperate measures, Anzu!"
until in the struggle, he manages to clamber onto the apron and - in desperation - pulls Trixie down throat-first over the top rope. She stumbles back into the ring as he wrenches the chain from around his neck, sucking in desperate breaths as Trixie charges at him again and knocks him off the apron with a shotgun dropkick! As Jeffry shakes loose the cobwebs and climbs up to his feet, Trixie is already charging off the opposite set of ropes… and takes him out with a suicide dive!! Both competitors sprawl to the mat, the audience cheering Trixie on as the momentum shifts back in her favour…
***
<< 12:13. >>
After some time tussling with Mason on the outside, Bordeaux is able to whip him into the steel steps and then throws him beneath the bottom rope. She clambers up to the top turnbuckle, as quickly as she can given the exertions of the match, and then steadies herself whilst Mason regains his feet in the rind. He turns to face her… and his taken off his feet by a cross-body! Trixie with the cover…
ONE… TWO… NO!
Anzu Kurosawa: "Mason with the authoritative kickout, and both competitors are quickly up to their feet… Jeffry Mason catches her with a straight right hand, but Trixie ducks beneath the oncoming left! Sit-out jawbreaker!"
Thomas West: "And I’m not sure this is where Mason wants to be! He stumbles into a seated position in the corner, in perfect position for Bundles of Fun! Trixie connects with the running cannonball!"
Mason rolls into position in the middle of the ring, and Bordeaux wastes no time in climbing back towards the top turnbuckle, this time with her back to Mason… but it appears he’s playing possum! He gets to his feet, picks up an adjacent chair, and hurls it at Trixie! It collides with the back of her head and she falls back into a heap in the corner of the ring…
Anzu Kurosawa: "An ugly landing for Trixie Bordeaux! And now Jeffry Mason looks for more weapons he can utilise in this onslaught…"
Mason chooses one of the black canvas bags from the steel cage and empties it into the middle of the ring…
Thomas West: "Here come the tacks! Only one bag was used yesterday, I think we brought at least half a dozen with us to the desert…"
Anzu Kurosawa: "Don’t tell Jeffry Mason that… actually, do tell Jeffry Mason that!!"
With a dark, sinister grin on his face, Mason picks Trixie up and hoists her into a seated position atop the top turnbuckle, nailing her with a palm strike and then dragging her off on his shoulders… and delivering a hellacious muscle buster onto the tacks!!! The crowd winces at the move, Trixie lying spread-eagled on the mat as Jeffry forces a forearm into her face in the lateral press…
Thomas West: "Done!"
ONE… TWO… THRE – NO!
Even Jeffry Mason is surprised when Trixie gets the shoulder up, and he looks at her with just a smidgen of consternation before his playful smile returns. Then, he walks back up to the steel cage weapon array, musing as he looks upon it, as if he was a reader carefully selecting a book. After much thought, he unfastens a fork from the cage wall and turns back towards Bordeaux. The young woman is barely up to her knees, and Mason proceeds to drive the prongs of the fork down into her already bloody forehead!
Thomas West: "This is sick!!"
Anzu Kurosawa: "I know! Isn’t it wonderful?!"
The camera shows a close-up of the prongs digging their way into the forehead, Mason all-the-while telling Bordeaux to quit before, eventually, throwing her face down on the mat. He backs into the corner, watching - almost in disbelief - as Trixie defiantly begins to force her way back up to her feet. He collects the discarded chair as she finally manages to get to her knees… and brings it crunching down over her cranium! The chair folds up over her forehead, her head stuck in the dent as she falls down to the ground. Jeffry pushes her onto her back and hooks the far leg.
ONE… TWO… THRE – NO!!
Anzu Kurosawa: "AGAIN Trixie Bordeaux kicks out!! Incredible resilience on display!"
Thomas West: "I don’t think I’m the only one surprised by this toughness from Trixie… Jeffry Mason can’t seem to put her away!"
The look of frustration on Jeffry’s face is now unmistakable, and there’s impatience about him as he drags Bordeaux back to her feet and then onto his shoulders. He steps over to the densest cluster of thumbtacks before planting Trixie onto them with a devastating sitout Liger bomb!
Anzu Kurosawa: "Not quite the Vulgar Display of Power, but a vulgar display of power - lower case - nonetheless! And I think that means the end!"
ONE… TWO… THREE!
{RESULT}Winner: Jeffry Mason by pinfall at 16:02.
Mason throws Trixie’s legs away from him before dragging himself to his feet. He shakes his head at the fallen Bordeaux, clearly displeased at her for putting up so much of a fight, before kicking her unceremoniously below the bottom rope. He snarls at the official who is trying to raise his hand in victory, the man in black and white quickly climbing out of the ring rather than risk being spat at like yesterday, with Mason standing tall - dripping with blood, old and new - in the middle of the ring.
Natalie Rosenberg: "Here is your winner… Jeffry Mason!!"
Anzu Kurosawa: "Another impressive performance from Jeffry Mason, who is living up to his formidable reputation as a deathmatch superstar. He marches on in the tournament at the expense of Trixie Bordeaux."
Thomas West: "But what a performance by Bordeaux here today, demonstrating her toughness and intestinal fortitude even in defeat. Trixie will have proved a lot of naysayers wrong with her gutsy showing against Jeffry Mason here in the desert."
Gutsy, maybe, but Trixie has been reduced to a bloody and defeated mess on the outside, a state of affairs that Mason seems nearly jubilant about. He allows himself one more long, contented look at Bordeaux before climbing out of the ring and heading up the ramp.
We rejoin our familiar position in the backstage area, adjacent to both the medical bay and Gorilla position, as Katie Baxter stands by with recently qualified semi-finalist Kleio De Santos. In the background, we can hear the muffled sounds of Miley Cyrus playing out in the desert, signifying our proximity to the last match.
Katie Baxter: "I'm here with 'the Boa Constrictor' Kleio De Santos, who earlier today added Yuna Funanori's scalp to Dan Maskell's, who she knocked off during Stage One yesterday. So far, so good, Kleio: two wins, just like last year. Ready to go one better?"
Kleio, dried blood around her face and in her hair, has her hands on her hips. She cuts a frustrated figure, and when she lets out a chuckle it seems to be in exasperation.
Kleio De Santos: "Last year, last year, last year... Y'know, ever since I arrived in this desert, it seems that all anyone wants to speak about is last year..."
Kleio shakes her head, all levity gone from her tone, a look of focus and determination upon her face.
Kleio De Santos: "Well, to be honest Katie, I'm sick of hearing about last year! What about this year, when I destroyed CWA legend Dan Maskell? What about this year, when I most likely sent Yuna Funanori back to retirement? What about this year…"
???: ”… what about this year?"
Kleio is halted by the repeated question, her eyes drawn off-screen to the source of the interruption… where a bloodied and battle-scarred Jeffry Mason walks into the shot, his muffled music still audible from the other side of the curtain.
Jeffry Mason: "This year is a little different to last year, sweet Kleio. I thought you'd have realised that by now. Don't they have screens in the medical bay? For one thing, the biggest threat isn't a time-travelling podcast host…"
Jeffry continues to smirk at Kleio, his demeanour a strange and unsettling mix of condescension, disdain, and lechery.
Thomas West: "Was that meant to be an insult? Is he insulting me?"
Kleio, for her part, stands firm. She shakes her head and sighs.
Kleio De Santos: "One day, I'd like to give an interview for this company that isn't hi-jacked. You should go and get that looked at. Maybe some stitches. I want you all fixed up if we are to dance later."
Jeffry's smile gets wider, revealing a smile that is missing some teeth, the ones that remain to him smeared in blood ostensibly from his mouth.
Jeffry Mason: "Later it is."
With Mason removing himself from the shot, Kleio returns her attention to Salum.
Kleio De Santos: "You want to ask me another question?"
Todd Salum: "No. I think we got it."
{NEPHEWS || PORRIDGE RADIO}[MEDIA=youtube]E47KQIL6ILk[/MEDIA]
The reaction in the audience is negative - almost a collective groan, really - as the (somewhat) familiar stable music of Cthulhu’s Nephews blares out from the speaker system.
Thomas West: "Now we’re talking! Prepare for a ratings spike, Anzu!"
Anzu Kurosawa: "Here come Cthulhu’s Nephews, who - just like last year - are here for Lumber-Nephew duties as part of the tournament’s second round, in what appears to be a KODM tradition."
Thomas West: "You’ve got to give the people what they want!"
Uncle leads a long line of Nephews out onto the stage, and they go over to the commentary booth in order to greet both Thomas and (only slightly less enthusiastically) Anzu, before continuing on down the ramp. They are out in force tonight: behind Uncle J.J. JAY! are Gerald Grayson, Quiet, Harry the Sane Wizard, the Maid of Death, NOE-I, Kha’’rina, Sting Ray, Alphonse the Swiss Sherpa, and the Prince. They fan out around the ring, and behind them we can see that the audience members have brought along the weapons for the following match. As the Nephews peruse the weaponry on offer, we cut back to the stage just in time for.
{ALONE || Jonathan Young & Lee Albrecht}[MEDIA=youtube]PZdWLDKISp8[/MEDIA]
There’s a mostly positive reaction in the desert, but with a contingent of boos considering the new company he keeps, as Reagan Cole walks out onto the stage. He surveys the audience before glancing at the FWA X Championship and the Crown of Thorns atop the podium, pausing to inspect both before walking down the ramp.
Natalie Rosenberg: "Wrestling fans, the following three-way elimination contest is a quarter final match, and is a Lumber-Nephews Fans Bring the Weapons Deathmatch! Introducing first… weighing in at two hundred and fifteen pounds… from Essex, England… ‘the British Apprentice’... REAGAN COLE!!"
Anzu Kurosawa: "Reagan Cole qualified for Stage Two by seeing off Madison Gray. We saw a mean streak in ‘the British Apprentice’ yesterday… perhaps the influence of ‘the Saviour of Death’?"
Thomas West: "Maybe, or simply Cole making the necessary adjustments to his own gameplan to survive this tournament. He may still call himself the Apprentice, but by this stage Reagan Cole would have to be considered a veteran."
Anzu Kurosawa: "And he’ll need those veteran instincts today, as we’ve just found out from Natalie Rosenberg that this match will be the sole three-way in the quarter finals. Today’s gruelling task just got a little bit more gruelling for Reagan and his two opponents."
Cole loosens up in a corner of the ring, clearly a little bit annoyed about the fact that there’s around a dozen Nephews currently surrounding it on the outside. He anxiously looks down at Uncle and Quiet, who are offering him advice nearby, before turning towards the stage…
{THE DEMON’S CAROL || BLAQKOUT}[MEDIA=youtube]kHYdLveMYxc[/MEDIA]
There’s a derisive reaction for Death Walker as he walks out onto the stage, a focused and grave look on his face. Just like Cole before him, he also pauses to look at the championship belt on the podium, nodding his head in self-affirmation before he begins his walk to the ring.
Natalie Rosenberg: "Next… weighing in at two hundred and forty three pounds… from the depths of HELL… he is ‘The Dark Traveller’... DEATH WALKER!!"
Anzu Kurosawa: "Death Walker looked very impressive yesterday during Stage One, where he put XYZ to sleep with a kimura lock to progress by knockout. That wasn’t the first time we’ve seen XYZ reduced to unconsciousness by Death, either… perhaps it’s finally time for him to put his obsession with X behind him and look to the future?"
Thomas West: "He doesn’t have any choice but to do that, Anzu, and it seems that he already started yesterday. Death Walker’s win over XYZ wasn’t his only involvement in proceedings yesterday, with him also targeting Cornelius Aurelius Caesar in a seemingly random attack after the Roman punched his own place in Stage Two. You’d have to imagine Death was looking to weaken the competition going into this second day of the tournament."
Anzu Kurosawa: "I don’t remember that happening at all."
Thomas West: "I think you were otherwise indisposed at that point, Anzu."
Death Walker ignores the Lumber-Nephews completely as he climbs into the ring. He has eyes only for ‘the British Apprentice’, who paces around slightly in an opposite corner, wearing his anxieties more plainly than Death (if indeed Death has any). The music fades out and is soon replaced by…
{LEGACY OF ROME || ANDREAS WOLDETOFT}[MEDIA=youtube]ZFvborIdCn4[/MEDIA]
Anzu Kurosawa: "Speak of the Devil!"
The crowd cheers for the Roman as he walks out onto the stage, smiling and glaring down the ramp at Death Walker in the ring. Caesar seems pleased by this draw, placing him against the man who attacked him following his round one victory. After a brief moment contemplating the FWA X Championship on the podium, Cornelius marches down the ramp.
Natalie Rosenberg: "And finally… from inside the sacred Pomerium of The Glorious Roman Empire and weighing in at three hundred and nineteen libra… he is Cornelius… Aurelius… CAESAR!!"
Thomas West: "Looks like Cornelius Aurelius Caesar won’t have to wait too long at all to get his hands on Death Walker following yesterday’s events!"
Anzu Kurosawa: "The Roman seems happy with this arrangement, and you’ve got to admire that confidence… but such confidence didn’t exactly work out well for XYZ."
Caesar is quick to slide into the ring (ignoring the Nephews even more-so than Death Walker, given his recent history with them) and he gets right in Death Walker’s face after doing so. Death just smiles back at him in return, the official coming in between them and insisting that the Roman return to his own corner. Caesar eventually acquiesces, his music fading out as he continues to stare at his adversary. Reagan Cole, meanwhile, glances back and forth between the two heated foes, his eyes lighting up as he plans his path through the oncoming chaos. Finally, with all three men eager to get going, the official calls for the bell…
MATCH TWELVE
Cornelius Aurelius Caesar vs. Death Walker vs. Reagan Cole.
Lumber-Nephews Fans Bring the Weapons Deathmatch.
Quarter Finals.
<< 00:00. >>
As soon as the opening bell rings, we see Caesar - perhaps looking to exact some revenge over the man who attacked him yesterday - charge across the ring at Death Walker. Death seems it coming, though, ducking the attempt at a clothesline and sending Caesar clean over the top rope with a back body drop… and onto some unsuspecting Nephews below!
Anzu Kurosawa: "Quiet, Kha'rina, and the Maid of Death are taken out by the impact!!"
Thomas West: "Poor Nephews! They're only out there to do a job! Re-group!!"
Walker, after catapulting Caesar over the top, decides to try his own luck and charges across the ring at Reagan, who has more than enough time to telegraph the attack and strike with with a back body drop of his own!! Death is sent over the top rope, and this time it's Uncle J.J. JAY!, Alphonse, and Sting Ray that are flattened underneath him!
Reagan, alone in the ring, shrugs his shoulders… and then charges to the ropes in the opposite direction of both his opponents to take out Harry and NOE-I out with a suicide dive!!
Thomas West: "This is awful – Harry is only a child!! Classic Reagan!"
After the three competitors and the eight Lumber-Nephews get to their feet, the latter carry out their function and throw the former into the ring, so that they can address each other…
***
<< 04:15. >>
With Reagan Cole currently incapacitated beneath the bottom rope, Death Walker hits a uranage slam and then busies himself in undoing all of the turnbuckle covers in one corner of the ring. As he's doing this, the Lumber-Nephews around the ring are performing their secondary function in collecting the weapons that the fans have brought with them. Uncle slides a microwave into the ring, which Death Walker proceeds to place in the centre of the ring. He bodyslams the Roman onto it, Cornelius' back arched at an ugly and peculiar angle over the kitchen appliance. Death collects a toolbox, slid into the ring by Quiet on the other side of the ring, and from it he retrieved a screwdriver. He mounts Cornelius and begins to drive the flat, blunt edge of it into his forehead.
Anzu Kurosawa: "Death Walker is slicing Cornelius Aurelius Caesar open with that screwdriver!"
Thomas West: "Just don't put it inside the microwave!"
Death Walker continues to drive the screwdriver down into Caesar’s head, until he’s taken by surprise by an oncoming Reagan Cole, who plants him on his head with a tiltawhirl DDT! As ‘the British Apprentice’ gets to his feet, he sees that the Maid has slid a hockey stick (taken from one of the fans) into the ring. He seems unsure as to whether to take help from a Nephew, before eventually seizing it and bringing it down over Death Walker’s back with a tremendous thwack! Death rolls out of harm’s way, and ‘the British Apprentice refocuses his attention on a roused Caesar. He helps Caesar the rest of the way up and, standing behind him, threads the hockey stick between his arms and his back, before doubling the Roman over with a boot to the midsection. Cole applies a front facelock before planting Caesar on the mat with a double-arm underhook DDT, assisted by the hockey stick hitching his arms up further still! Cole goes for the cover…
ONE… TWO… T – NO!
Anzu Kurosawa: "Caesar gets the shoulder up, but some inventive offence on display from Reagan Cole…"
Thomas West: "Cole’s a pretty inventive guy. Did you know he invented a suplex?"
***
<< 07:38. >>
Cole has Caesar backed into a corner, and charges at him for a clothesline. The Roman is able to evade, and then he bowls Cole over with first a series of forearm strikes, then a kick to the gut, and finally a piledriver. Rather than go for a pinfall, Caesar collects an antique crockery set - perhaps a dozen pieces in general - that has been pushed into the ring by NOE-I. Cornelius begins to bring down each piece - cups, bowls, a teapot, and plates - over Reagan’s head in turn, each object smashing upon impact and leaving a smattering of broken china upon the ringmat. Upon exhausting his supply of porcelain, Cornelius proceeds to knock Reagan off his feet with a running knee strike!
He can’t follow up, though, as he’s blindsided by a spinning back elbow by the oncoming Death Walker! Caesar staggers and would probably have fallen, too, if Death didn’t hold him up on his feet… before putting him on the mat with backdrop suplex!! It’s not clear whether it’s by design, but the Roman lands atop the hockey stick discarded earlier in the match, with Caesar instantly clutching at his left shoulder after the move. Death Walker goes for the cover.
ONE… TWO… TH – NO!
Caesar kicks out! Death Walker slaps on a side headlock, grinding Cornelius down in the middle of the ring.
Meanwhile, on the outside of it, one of the front row fans offers Harry the Sane Wizard one of the weapons they brought along from home… in the form of a rudimentary prosthetic hand. Harry takes the object and holds it up in his own, far more advanced prosthetic hand, an offended look upon his face.
Harry the Sane Wizard (off-mic): ”Is this some sort of sick joke?"
Back inside the ring, Reagan Cole has fought up to his feet and is attempting to break out of the side headlock with a series of elbows…
***
<< 10:30. >>
Death Walker has Caesar backed up into the corner, where he works away at him with repeated stomps and forearms until he falls into a seated position. Death continues the onslaught with more stomps until Reagan arrives on the scene. ‘The Apprentice’ takes Death Walker by the scruff of the neck, charges him across the ring, and hurls him over the top rope and to the outside! Cole, thinking he’s taken care of Death for the moment, turns back towards Caesar, who has pulled himself up onto his feet to face down with Reagan.
Anzu Kurosawa: "Reagan thinks he’s taken out the trash, but I think it’s about to make a speedy return…"
Indeed, Death Walker is quickly hoisted up to his feet by surrounding Lumber-Nephews, who throw him under the bottom rope…
Thomas West: "What do you expect?! Fine work, Nephews! Very efficient!"
Death Walker springs to his feet and, as his two opponents turn to face him, he takes them both down with a double clothesline! Reagan Cole is the first to fight up, but he’s quickly thrown back down to the mat by Death Walker with a capture suplex! Caesar is up next, but it’s his turn to be planted down, this time with a spinebuster! And then a kitchen sink for Reagan Cole!
Thomas West: "Death Walker is picking up a real head of steam, here! He’s taking out his two opponents almost single-handedly…"
Anzu Kurosawa: "And now it looks as though he’s building up for a big finish… Death Walker is stalking Cornelius Aurelius Caesar from behind…"
Death is shaping up for his ‘Dark Cloud’ finisher… but as he moves in for the kill, Reagan Cole strikes! He comes out of nowhere with a jumping superkick!
Anzu Kurosawa: "Cole-Breaker!! Reagan Cole connects!"
Thomas West: "But Death Walker isn’t even knocked of his feet! He’s still on his knees!"
Caesar, though, is lurking behind Death Walker, and is able to connect with a backstabber!
Anzu Kurosawa: "Et Tu, Caesar?!!"
Thomas West: "But still, Death Walker fights back to his knees! Superhuman!!"
Anzu Kurosawa: "And one more Cole-Breaker from ‘the British Apprentice’!! Now the cover from Reagan!"
ONE… TWO… THREE!
{ELIMINATION}Eliminated: Death Walker by pinfall at 12:35.
Anzu Kurosawa: "It just essentially took two men and three finishers to eliminate Death Walker!"
Reagan Cole stares down at Death Walker as he rolls out of the ring, nodding his head in self-affirmation, pleased with himself and what he’s accomplished…
… and then Caesar rolls him up with a schoolboy!! And he grabs a handful of tights, just for good measure!
ONE… TWO… THREE!!
{RESULT}Winner: Cornelius Aurelius Caesar by pinfall at 13:04.
Anzu Kurosawa: "Got him!"
Reagan Cole has his head in his hands, looking up at the match official in disbelief as the bell is called for. Caesar rolls away, allowing his hand to be lifted in victory.
Natalie Rosenberg: "Here is your winner… Cornelius Aurelius Caesar!!"
Thomas West: "Caesar sneaks in and picks up the victory… and Reagan Cole is livid about it!"
Indeed, Cole stares at Caesar, a look of rage upon his face, his fists clenching at his side… whilst Cornelius allows himself a smirk and then a shrug. Almost sarcastically, he offers Reagan a handshake, much to the obvious displeasure of ‘the British Apprentice’...
… but, unbeknownst to Caesar, another has joined them in the ring.
Anzu Kurosawa: "Jeffry Mason!! Jeffry Mason is in the ring!"
Before Caesar realises what’s going on, Jeffry Mason - a steel chain wrapped around his fist - blasts the Roman in the back of the head!
Thomas West: "Here to avenge his friend?"
Anzu Kurosawa: "Unlikely! We’ve already seen Jeffry qualify for the semi-final stages… this is about improving his hopes of making the final!"
Reagan Cole simply shakes his head and turns away from the scene, climbing out of the ring and leaving Jeffry to his fun. The Lumber-Nephews, also, are disbanding after the match, and seemingly have little interest in getting involved on Caesar’s behalf (perhaps for obvious reasons). This leaves Cornelius in the ring alone with Mason, who drops the chain into the middle of the ring before hoisting the Roman up. Jeffry places Caesar in a front facelock, hoists him up, and…
Anzu Kurosawa: "Fisherman’s buster!! Onto the chain!"
Cornelius is dropped onto the steel chain, head and shoulder first, and lies face-down on the mat as Jeffry rises. ‘The Saviour of Death’ isn’t done there, though: he lifts Caesar up and, taking him by the trunks and the scruff of the neck, throws him between the middle and top turnbuckles and into the steel ring post!
Anzu Kurosawa: "You’d think we could get some help down here for Cornelius Aurelius Caesar… this is two post-match assaults for Caesar in two straight matches!"
Thomas West: "Deathmatch tournament, Anzu! Anything goes!"
Anzu Kurosawa: "Usually I’d agree with you, Thomas, but this isn’t a match! And Caesar has to compete again later on today!"
This seems to be the exact reason that Jeffry is striking, and he climbs out of the ring with a smile on his face. He takes Caesar by the left wrist and wraps his shoulder around the steel ring post! And a second time! Not content with this assault, Mason collects a steel chair from under the apron and - as he spots a team of security guards and officials charging down the ramp - brings it crashing down onto Caesar’s left shoulder, trapping it between the weapon and the steel ring post!
Anzu Kurosawa: "And now, as security descends on the scene, Jeffry Mason finally abates… and doesn’t he look smug with himself?!"
Indeed he does. As Caesar writhes around, holding his shoulder, Mason backs up the ramp with a grin on his face. Cole has already left, but this lack of unity doesn’t seem to bother Jeffry. He pauses at the top of the ramp, glancing at the Crown of Thorns atop the podium, as we fade to black.
The Fantasy Wrestling Alliance proudly presents…
CARNAL CONTENDERSHIP, 2023.
LIVE! … Sunday, April 30th, 2023 …
… from the Bridgestone Arena in Nashville, Tennessee …
- only on the WCNetwork -
featuring…
The Connection [c] vs. The Buddy System. FWA Tag Titles.
The 30-person Carnal Contendership Match. FWA World Title - #1C.
We return to the make-shift arena for another establishing shot of the ring, which has again been remodelled for the oncoming quarter final match. This time, there are no ropes, the ring instead bordered by thick strands of barbed wire that are wrapped around the turnbuckles in thick spools. Just in case this wasn't enough, more barbed wire themed weaponry has been scattered around ringside, including large boards, steel chairs, baseball bats, kendo sticks, and - most preposterously - barbed wire wrapped light tubes. The audience appears amped for the ominous scene, the anticipation high as we cut to the stage.
{STUPID INTRUDERS || THE VINCENT BLACK SHOW}[MEDIA=youtube]qR_440CbQZM[/MEDIA]
There's a huge pop in the desert for Violet Dreyer, who looks almost giddy with excitement as she walks out through the curtain. She has her cricket bat, nails in the face of it, in her grasp.
Natalie Rosenberg: "The following quarter final match is a No Ropes Barbed Wire Deathmatch! Introducing first… from Sydney, Australia and weighing in at one hundred and forty one pounds… ‘That Dastardly Dreyer’... VIOLET… DREYER!!"
Anzu Kurosawa: "Violet Dreyer looks incredibly pleased as she makes her way down to the ring… and I think you can probably work out why that is."
Thomas West: "We've already seen three of our quarter finals today, meaning we know who Violet will face here. And it's exactly the draw that she would have wanted."
Anzu Kurosawa: "It's nice to know that dreams do sometimes come true…"
Violet waits, poised and eager, in the centre of the ring. Her music fades out and, still grinning from ear to ear, she wills her opponent out, gripping the handle of her bat.
{YOU GOT A FRIEND IN ME (SLOWED) || RANDY NEWMAN}[MEDIA=youtube]vQ6uu6wH6Uw[/MEDIA]
There's quite a long pause as we await Jeremy's appearance, and eventually stumbles through the curtain as if he's been pushed out against his will. He considers walking straight back through to Gorilla but, after taking a deep breath, he turns to the ring. After the disfiguring that Alyster Black attempted to give him during Stage One's main event, he has arrived today in more protective gear, wearing a hockey mask over his face.
Natalie Rosenberg: "And her opponent… from Friendship, North Carolina… weighing in at one hundred and eighty pounds… JEREMY… BEST!!"
Anzu Kurosawa: "Here comes a Jeremy Best who seems more than a little unsure on his feet. I think he might be scarred for life after the events of yesterday’s main event, where Alyster Black took a glass shard to his forehead. Seems he’s taking some protection against that today…"
Thomas West: "I think he might need more than a hockey mask with Violet Dreyer across the ring from him. Should’ve brought some pads, too. Or just not shown up at all."
Anzu Kurosawa: "I think that thought is crossing through Jeremy Best’s mind right about now."
Indeed, Best hesitates at the base of the ramp, and it’s with great trepidation that he slowly climbs up the stairs and into the ring. He deliberately positions himself so that the referee is between him and Violet, who waits patiently across the ring for the match to begin. When Best’s music fades out, we can hear the crowd voicing their appraisal of the situation…
‘YOU FUCKED UP!
YOU FUCKED UP!
YOU FUCKED UP!’
Even with the hockey mask on, we can see Jeremy Best gulp. Violet continues to grin as the official calls for the bell.
 
MATCH THIRTEEN
Jeremy Best vs. Violet Dreyer.
No Ropes Barbed Wire Deathmatch.
Quarter Finals.
<< 00:00. >>
As soon as the match gets underway, Jeremy Best - just as he did at the start of his round one contest - quickly climbs out of the ring to regroup on the outside of it.
Anzu Kurosawa: "Best taking a moment on the outside at the very start of this one, but with no Scorpane and no Baxter out there all Best is likely to find is his chaotic thoughts."
Unlike Alyster Black, who in the first round waited patiently for Best to get back in the ring (at least during his first occasion pulling the trick), Violet drops her bat and follows him straight out with a slingshot plancha! The two sprawl to the outside, where Dreyer immediately works away with a dozen rapid fire right hands, only abating to collect a nearby steel chair. She waits for Jeremy to rise…
Thomas West: "Violet Dreyer folds that chair up around Jeremy Best's head! But I'm not sure exactly how much that did, other than rattle his hockey mask…"
Anzu Kurosawa: "Violet realises this too, she's trying to channel her inner Danny Toner and rip off that mask… but it's padlocked on!! Best has securely fastened the hockey mask onto his head!"
Violet is frustrated, but she changes tact and rips the straps of Jeremy's singlet, exposing his whole torso before collecting a pair of light tubes. She smashes them, one over his chest and the other his back, and then collects a second pair to repeat the gesture! Then a third! She keeps going and going and going, until no less than twenty tubes have been broken over Best's exposed torso! Best is down on his hands and knees… and Violet Dreyer brings her cricket bat down hard over his back! The nails bite between his shoulder blades and Best has to awkwardly stretch to remove the bat from his body. Finally, after a big short-arm clothesline, 'Your New Best Friend' slumps to the mat… but Violet is far from done.
***
<< 03:52. >>
After hurling Jeremy with hard Irish whips into a series of items outside the ring (the apron, the post, the steps, the barricade, etc), Violet throws him back into the squared circle and then collects a trash can from underneath it. She doesn’t intend to use this as a weapon, though, instead walking a perimeter of the ring and using it as a receptacle to collect every lighttube and lighttube bundle she can find! She manages about twelve of the individual sticks and two of the bundles, before climbing up the stairs and carefully placing it in the ring so that the weapons don’t break. She climbs in after them, wandering over to Jeremy Best…
Anzu Kurosawa: "Small package! Small package from Best!"
ONE… TWO… NO!
Thomas West: "Violet Dreyer kicks out, and this is exactly what we saw yesterday during Best’s main event match against Alyster Black, with Jeremy repeatedly attempting to catch the champion with flash pins… and now he strikes on Dreyer with a thumb to the eye!!"
Violet is momentarily blinded and stumbles around the ring, allowing Jeremy to grab one of the individual light sticks and swipe it down across her face! The glass shatters and instantly brings fresh blood from Dreyer to go alongside the many cuts already opened up on Jeremy’s torso. Best collects another tube, but then returns it to the trashcan, instead deciding to up the ante by collecting the six-tube bundle! He waits for Dreyer to rise to her feet, and then goes for the same baseball swing motion, aiming for the side of Violet's head….only for her to duck beneath, and then connect with a shotgun dropkick!! The light tubes explode between the soles of her boots and Jeremy's bare chest!! He falls down face first into the broken shards, writhing around in agony…
Anzu Kurosawa: "Single-leg Boston crab! Jeremy is lying face down in broken glass!"
Thomas West: "Just tap and go home, Jeremy! Take Violet's advice! Live to fight another day!"
He doesn't though, instead showing off some international fortitude and dragging himself across the ring, through the glass… first to the ring ropes and then, when he realises they won't bring him any respite, out of the ring altogether. This gets him out of the hold, but only earns him another onslaught of attacks from Dreyer on the outside…
***
<< 09:12. >>
Dreyer has set a table up near the corner of the ring, and by the time she accomplishes this she realises that Best has again left the ring and is currently crawling up the ramp! She grabs the remaining light tube bundle out of the trashcan (leaving a large number of individual tubes inside of it) and follows him up the ramp. She leaves the tube bundle at the base of the ramp and catches him up with stomps, before collecting him in a front facelock and dragging him back towards her carefully laid bundle…
Anzu Kurosawa: "Snap suplex!! Violet Dreyer connects, and again Jeremy Best's back is put through the ringer!"
Thomas West: "I told you! The mask is nowhere near enough!"
Dreyer throws him back under the bottom rope and, like a violent sheepdog flocking her herd, stomps him over towards the table she set up, eventually managing to lie him down on top of it. She wastes no time in quickly ascending to the top rope, where she steadies herself…
Anzu Kurosawa: "Rooftop Riot… but there's nobody home!! Violet Dreyer crashes and burns through the table!!"
***
<< 11:50. >>
Best has managed to push an advantage for a couple of minutes, which amounts to the only real offence he's mounted during the match. Now, with Dreyer a little worse for wear, he stalks her as she rises to her feet from behind… before clasping her in a hug, and then throwing her down with a belly-to-belly suplex! Jeremy is prompt with the cover…
ONE… TWO… T – NO!
Violet forces the shoulder up! Jeremy is frustrated, which we can just about see in his facial expression despite the hockey mask, but - to the derision of the boos - signifies that it's over. He lifts Dreyer up by the hair, and then onto his shoulders…
Thomas West: "Jeremy Best is trying to finish this one off the BFF!"
Anzu Kurosawa: "But Violet knows what that would mean, and she fights out defiantly with elbow strikes to the head…"
Eventually, Violet is able to slip out behind Jeremy, who stumbled forward before turning to face her. Showing remarkable strength, Violet lifts him off his feet, steps over towards the trashcan brought in earlier (which is still standing upright and with about a dozen light tubes protruding from the top of it)... and body slams him onto the top of it!!! The light tubes smash, Jeremy Best's back bounces off the rim of the bucket, and he falls to the mat, writhing about in agony!
Thomas West: "Unbelievable! I hope the medical bay is ready for Jeremy Best after this one!"
Anzu Kurosawa: "There's a medical bay?!"
It's Violet's turn to signify the end, which she does with relish before backing into a corner with the intention of stalking him. But, as she steps backwards, she treads on someone's foot… most confusing, considering both the official and her opponent are in front of her.
Violet turns around with puzzlement on her face… to find 'Alyster Black' standing in front of her! Not, however, the real Alyster Black (as you might be able to tell from the inverted commas)... this one is far too large. He's six foot two and around three hundred and twelve pounds, and bulky with it. The crowd makes their realisations as he looms momentarily above Violet…
Anzu Kurosawa: "… is that?!"
Thomas West: "How did he get here?!"
Before those questions can be answered, 'Big' Alyster Black folds Violet up with a discus lariat! He stands above Dreyer and slowly removes his mask… rather predictably revealing a grinning Bryan Baxter underneath!
Anzu Kurosawa: "Looks like he's going for an exclamation point… BAXTER DRIVER!!"
Dreyer is impaled with the move, delivered onto a smattering of broken glass just for extra sauce. Baxter quickly drags the near-lifeless form of his tag team partner over to Dreyer, draping him over her and demanding the official make the count…
ONE… TWO… THREE!
{RESULT}Winner: Jeremy Best via pinfall at 13:59.
As soon as the three is counted, the crowd launches into a loud, rumbling chant of 'BULLSHIT!'
Anzu Kurosawa: "I couldn't agree more! I'm fully aware that this is a deathmatch tournament, but the eighteen competitors were meant to come here alone! Jeremy Best just stole one from Violet Dreyer!"
Thomas West: "As much as I hate to say it… that’s just more resourcefulness on display from Jeremy Best and, probably more knowingly, Bryan Baxter."
Natalie Rosenberg: "Here is your winner… Jeremy Best!"
Best and Baxter are already halfway up the ramp, with the big man helping his bloody, bruised partner with the walk, by the time Violet begins to stir. She rolls onto her front and gets to her knees just in time to see the pair of them disappear from view through the curtain. She is left to listen to the slowed down mix of ‘You’ve Got A Friend In Me’ with a look of disgust on her face. She thuds the mat with a clenched fist, the sun having now set and the dusk gathering around her, as we fade out from the scene.
We cut to an area away from the action in and around the ring, separated from the fans by the large, temporary warehousing unit that has been built to house the backstage area. We recognise this scene from early on in the weekend’s proceedings as the space designated as a parking lot, although there are far fewer cars than there were back then.
Amongst the few remaining vehicles, a forlorn and depressed figure is visible in the increasingly gloomy night. The pale full moon is now rising above them, their shoulders are hunched forwards and their posture is stooped, as if the weight of the world and the heavens were currently on them. After a deep sigh, audible for kilometres around, the figure begins to walk into the distance.
Katie Baxter: "weaselperson!"
The interviewer appears in shot, a hand out and running towards the figure, as if bidding them to halt. They acquiesce, stopping and turning to face Katie with an endlessly sad expression on their face. As the camera gets closer, we see a single tear rolling down their face.
Katie Baxter: "What are you still doing here? Those eliminated now should’ve already left."
weaselperson: "Bark bark. Bark bark."
Katie Baxter: "And how will you get home? Are you going to walk again?"
weaselperson: "Bark bark bark bark bark bark bark."
Katie Baxter: "What do you mean, you aren’t going home?"
weaselperson sighs, his sadness only compounding as he looks upon Katie’s confused face.
weaselperson: "Bark bark. Bark. Bark bark bark bark bark bark. Bark bark bark. Bark bark bark bark bark bark bark. Bark. Bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark, bark bark bark bark bark, bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark. Bark."
Baxter wipes a tear away from her own eyes.
Katie Baxter: "Oh, wp, we all feel like that sometimes. I know I do. But sometimes belonging isn’t about a place, you know? Sometimes it’s about a thing. Or a person."
weaselperson: "Bark bark bark bark. Bark bark bark bark?"
Katie appears confused by the question.
Katie Baxter: "Civilisation? It’s that way."
She points to the nearest cluster of cities to the north. weaselperson nods his head before slowly turning to the south and beginning his lonely sojourn in the opposite direction.
When he is less than ten metres away from her, Katie Baxter can’t help but call out.
Katie Baxter: "Stop! wp!"
Hooded and cloaked by the descending night, weaselperson turns his head to face her.
Katie Baxter: "I love you."
weaselperson turns his head away to look at the moon, but doesn’t walk away just yet.
weaselperson: "Bark bark bark bark, bark."
The tears are rolling down Katie’s face now, each declaration cutting into the silent night.
Katie Baxter: "If you really did, you wouldn’t leave."
weaselperson: "Bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark."
He begins to walk away. Katie’s face is consumed by both grief and understanding as weaselperson disappears into the night.
We return to the desert with the camera panning across the large structure that has been set up around the ring. The roofed cell, made of steel mesh, stands twenty feet high, a gap left around the perimeter of the ring that has been loaded with weaponry. It is now the evening, stars beginning spring up across the purplish black sky and a full moon in position overhead.
Anzu Kurosawa: "KODM tradition means that the semi-final stage takes place inside a cage, and we’re witnessing the return of Schism in the Prison..."
Thomas West: "I avoided this particular structure during my successful and widely-lauded run last year, with Kleio De Santos triumphing over Kayden Knox during 2022’s Schism match. With KDS still in contention here, perhaps she’ll be able to put that experience to good use."
Anzu Kurosawa: "I think she wants us to stop talking about last year, buddy."
We cut to the stage for…
{LEGACY OF ROME || ANDREAS WOLDETOFT}[MEDIA=youtube]ZFvborIdCn4[/MEDIA]
There’s a loud cheer amongst the crowd as Cornelius Aurelius Caesar - looking more than a little worse for wear - wanders out onto the stage. He is heavily bandaged around the left shoulder, which he is loosening up as he walks down the ramp.
Natalie Rosenberg: "The following semi-final match is your Schism of the Prison match! Introducing first… from inside the sacred Pomerium of The Glorious Roman Empire and weighing in at three hundred and nineteen libra… he is Cornelius… Aurelius… CAESAR!!"
Anzu Kurosawa: "Cornelius Aurelius Caesar walks towards this demonic structure having been through the ringer over the past twenty four hours. I am reliably informed that he was accosted by Death Walker following our round one match yesterday, and we all saw what happened following his quarter final match against Death and Reagan Cole."
Thomas West: "Jeffry Mason took advantage of the situation, finding himself at ringside to support his charge Reagan Cole… he couldn’t stop ‘the British Apprentice’ from succumbing to the Roman, but he certainly left an impression on Caesar following the bell."
Anzu Kurosawa: "And now Caesar enters the cage, in the knowledge that he’s only half way through this tournament. Two more battles sit stubbornly between Caesar and the FWA X Championship."
Cornelius waits in the middle of the ring, his music fading out. Next…
{YOU GOT A FRIEND IN ME (SLOWED) || RANDY NEWMAN}[MEDIA=youtube]vQ6uu6wH6Uw[/MEDIA]
Heavy boos ring out in the desert as Jeremy Best limps out onto the stage, still wearing his hockey mask, and now flanked by his tag team partner (and partner-in-crime) Bryan Baxter. He still looks unsure of himself, though the presence of Big Bryan is giving him some confidence compared to the shaking mess we’ve seen thus far in the tournament. His body is riddled with fresh cuts from his bloody and recent quarter-final match against Violet Dreyer.
Natalie Rosenberg: "And his opponent… accompanied to the ring by Bryan Baxter… from Friendship, North Carolina… weighing in at one hundred and eighty pounds… JEREMY… BEST!!"
Anzu Kurosawa: "Accompanied to the ring by Bryan Baxter, even though he was told to come alone. To be expected, I guess…"
Thomas West: "Of course, and commendable, if you ask me! Nice to finally have some competition in the ‘resourcefulness’ department. Carnal Contendership should be quite the adventure!"
Anzu Kurosawa: "It's true: the circumstances may be less than pleasing, but Jeremy Best has picked up victories against Alyster Black and Violet Dreyer already this weekend. Two competitors who would no doubt have enjoyed eviscerating Jeremy Best. But, by hook or crook, Best has managed to wriggle through to the semi-finals."
There are three officials waiting at the bottom of the ramp to tell Bryan Baxter that he’s not allowed through the door with Jeremy, which seems to give Best a fresh bout of anxieties. Bryan talks him down, eventually placating his tag team partner enough for him to enter the cell. The officials lock the door behind Jeremy, who turns back to see his friend offering him a weak thumbs up. He takes a deep breath and then climbs into the ring, psyching himself up whilst pacing slightly in his corner. The official inside the cage conducts his final checks and, when he’s content that both men are ready to go, he calls for the opening bell.
MATCH FOURTEEN
Jeremy Best vs. Cornelius Aurelius Caesar.
Schism in the Prison Deathmatch.
Semi Finals.
<< 00:00. >>
Just like he has in the previous two rounds, Jeremy considers diving out of the ring immediately after the opening bell to flee his opponent… but when he turns to face the ropes he catches a glimpse of the steel mesh of the cage, and his tag team partner standing on the other side of it. He decides against this idea and instead turns back to face Caesar… who has already charged across the ring and meets him with a spinning backfist, aimed at his chest because of the hockey mask! The blow winds Best, who has no time to recover with the Roman dragging him into the ring and hitting a Michonoku driver!
ONE… TWO… NO!
Anzu Kurosawa: "Caesar trying to finish this one early! An immediate burst of offence from the former tag team champion!"
Thomas West: "Perhaps working out some of his frustrations from earlier in the weekend. I guess being the repeated recipient of random assaults can lead to some pent up aggression."
Caesar proceeds to hit a snap suplex, followed by a dragon suplex, and then finally a half-and-half suplex! Best is rocked by the trio of suplexes and rolls under the bottom rope. On the outside of the cage, Baxter is crouched down beside his fallen foe, issuing some words of encouragement as he rises up to his feet.
Thomas West: "I still want to know how that jackass found out our coordinates! Whoever is responsible should be banned indefinitely from future KODMs!"
Regardless of Bryan's presence, it doesn't do much to help Best in this current moment, with Caesar allowing him to rise and then charging at the ropes…
Anzu Kurosawa: "Mortem lancea! Caesar thuds into Best with a forearm through the ropes!"
The crowd are cheering the Roman on in his efforts. He offers Baxter a mistrusting side-eye before beginning to set a table up on the outside of the ring…
<< 04:12. >>
Unable to force Best's face against the cage due to the fastened hockey mask, Caesar instead resorts to repeatedly Irish whipping Jeremy into the steel, with 'Your New Best Friend' alternating between colliding with them with his chest and with his back. After the sixth Irish whip, the Roman hoists Jeremy up onto a shoulder and drops him onto the steel ring steps with a snake eyes! Best rolls around, clutching his stomach and chest in agony, whilst Caesar again looks under the apron… this time producing a black canvas bag, as well as the toolbox (with Jason Randall's name on it in tip-ex) we saw yesterday.
Anzu Kurosawa: "The wildcard didn't get a chance to use his tray of tricks this weekend, but the rest of the field is making good use of it…"
Best is again crawling away from his opponent, but seeing as they're locked in a cage he just ends up crawling around the perimeter of the ring. Caesar catches up with him on the opposite corner of it, and repeats the snake eyes but onto the other set of steel ring steps before throwing him back under the bottom rope. Caesar collects the bag that he introduced and pours its contents out… innumerable shards of glass, both large and small, scattering across the ring mat!!
… but before he can follow up, Jeremy Best spikes him into the shards with a tiltawhirl DDT!!! The crowd winces and then boos as Caesar attempts to pull the broken glass from his forehead, but Best is already on the second rope. Cornelius fights up to his feet… but is spiked down a second time with a jumping DDT!!
Thomas West: "Jeremy Best lands in the glass as well, but it's Caesar who bears the brunt of that attack! And now Best covers! He might have him!"
ONE… TWO… THR – NO!!
Caesar is able to kick out! Best shows his frustration by banging on the mat with his fists, before promptly pulling glass out of his hands…
***
<< 09:12. >>
After failing to get a three-count following a top rope hurricanrana, a springboard moonsault, and then a sunset flip powerbomb (dubbed the Buddy Bomb) to the outside, Jeremy decides that desperate measures are in order. He opens up the Wildcard's toolbox, and from it he retrieves a hammer. Caesar has crawled away from him, and has now come to rest near the ring steps. Best, with sinister ideas, approaches the Roman and clutches his wrist, pinning it down upon the top of the steel steps…
Anzu Kurosawa: "Jeremy Best might be about to break Caesar's fingers! But all's fair in love and deathmatches!"
Best holds the hammer above his head, but hesitates for a moment… before, realising that the need is great, bringing it down towards Caesar's hand… but the Roman snatches it away! The hammer collides with the steel and Best is forced to drop it, the reverberations staggering him… allowing Caesar to grasp the hammer and thrash it across Jeremy's head!!
Anzu Kurosawa: "Jeremy might be out!"
Thomas West: "Jeremy might be dead"
On the outside of the ring, Bryan Baxter’s mood has gone from elation to despair. He is going crazy at the officials manning the door, demanding that they open it up. When they refuse, he begins to rattle it and pull at the padlock. Meanwhile, Cornelius Aurelius Caesar drags Jeremy’s limp form up onto the apron, eyeing the table that is positioned below them on the outside. With a smirk in the direction of the incensed Baxter, who - in a fit of rage - has clocked the first official at the door with a right hand and is now demanding the padlock key again from the remaining two, Cornelius doubles Jeremy over with a boot to the midsection and drags his head into position between his legs. He hooks both of Best’s arms, and then jumps from the apron, through the nearby table with the kneeling facebuster!!
Anzu Kurosawa: "Crocea mors!! Caesar hits it! That’s all she wrote!"
Even with his partner almost unconscious, Baxter is not yet ready to accept defeat. He lays out the second official at the cage door with another right hand, and then clutches the only remaining official - DJ Franchise - by the scruff of the neck. Franchise looks petrified and, shaking, reaches down into his pocket. Smiling at the referee’s acquiescence, Bryan lets go of his firm grasp on DJ’s shirt.
Slowly, DJ produces the key, which Bryan reaches out for…
… and Franchise snatches it away! AND THEN SWALLOWS IT!!
Anzu Kurosawa: "What a sacrifice in the line of duty!! What a guy!"
Enraged, Baxter knocks DJ out with a headbutt, and then attempts to rip open the door with his bare hands again…
Meanwhile, inside the cage, Caesar laughs off Baxter’s failed attempts to gain entry and collects Jeremy Best… placing him in a full nelson!
Anzu Kurosawa: "He calls this The Triumph!"
Thomas West: "And I think Jeremy Best is already out!! The official calls for the bell!!"
{RESULT}Winner: Cornelius Aurelius Caesar by knockout at 12:28.
Cornelius throws Best down onto the sand and, with Baxter still trying to gain access to the cell, allows the official to lift his hand into the air.
Natalie Rosenberg: "Here is your winner, and qualifying for the grand final of the King of the Deathmatch, 2023… Cornelius… Aurelius… CAESAR!"
Anzu Kurosawa: "Thank the God of Deathmatch that this semi-final stage takes place inside a steel cage, where Cornelius Aurelius Caesar was able to focus on Jeremy Best without the threat of Bryan Baxter getting involved…"
Thomas West: "That's all well and good, but with head official DJ Franchise knocked out, and the key inside his stomach, that leaves us at something of an impasse."
Anzu Kurosawa: "Surely there's a spare?"
As if on cue, timekeeper Jonie Barrowman appears with the spare key, and Baxter doesn't allow the same mistake to happen again. He immediately grabs the key from the timekeeper and shoves her out of the way, impatiently unlocking the padlock and ripping away the heavy chain.
Thomas West: "This looks bad for the Roman… did they have deja vu in Ancient Rome?"
Caesar climbs out of the ring to meet the oncoming Baxter, but the much fresher man immediately wipes him out with a big boot! The crowd immediately begin to boo as Bryan collects the heavy, long, steel chain from nearby, using one end of it to choke Caesar out, and wrapping the other end of it around his first, the third right hand from which busts Caesar wide open again.
Anzu Kurosawa: "Fresh stitches break easily, and for the third straight match in this tournament Cornelius Aurelius Caesar finds himself the bloody recipient of a post-match beatdown!!"
Baxter relents, but only for a moment… as Caesar hurriedly removes the chain from around his neck, Bryan collects the top half of the steel ring steps, at first ramming it against the rising Roman's head to knock him back into the sand. He throws the steel steps down, collects Caesar in a front facelock, and drags him up onto the ring apron…
Thomas West: "Caesar still has a match tonight, but I'm not sure he's going to be able to wrestle it if Bryan Baxter has anything to say about the matter. The other semi might end up being our final, Anzu!"
Anzu Kurosawa: "Here comes security, but not fast enough! Haven't they learned anything this weekend?!"
Baxter spies the incoming team of security and speeds up, hoisting Caesar into the air and slamming him from the apron and onto the steel steps with a vicious, vile Baxter Driver!! Caesar lays in a heap atop the steel, the security team crowding around him as Baxter backs away.
Thomas West: "With the attacks of Death Walker during Stage One and Jeffry Mason earlier today, at least those competitors still had tournament hopes of their own. Underhanded? Sure! But from a pragmatic standpoint? Makes sense. This is just a vindictive attack by an angry, sad little man, who has my pity."
Anzu Kurosawa: "And only now, as security swarms around Caesar, does Baxter actually go and check on his 'friend'. Says a lot…"
Baxter collects the battered, beaten, and broken Jeremy Best and, just as he did after his quarter final match, helps him towards the back. This time, though, Jeremy's music is not heralding his victory, the crowd's derision instead the scene's only soundtrack. A quartet of paramedics with a trolley stretcher pass by as 'the Buddy System' making their retreat up the ramp.
LIVE! … this Sunday, April 9th, 2023 …
… from the United Center in Chicago, Illinois …
- only on the WCNetwork -
featuring…
Eternal vs. Joe Burr & Lizzie Rose.
Jackson Fenix vs. Mike Parr. FWA NA Title - #1C.
Ratin Makitchin and Steve the Techno Vampire vs. Allen Price and Jean-Luc Watkins.
Bryan Baxter [c] vs. ???. FWA NA Title.
Shawn Summers [c] vs. Tommy Bedlam. FWA TV Title.
Chris Peaock [c] vs. Cyrus Truth vs. Michelle von Horrowitz. FWA World Title.
At ringside, the structure surrounding the ring has been changed, steel replaced by bamboo as we prepare for the Lahore Lockdown match. The Lahore Lockdown structure is actually two cages. One has no roof, and sits on the ring apron (almost snug against the ropes, with a tiny gap allowing the wrestlers to bounce off them still) with walls around ten foot high. It has a door which isn't locked, but begins closed. The wrestlers can freely enter in and out of this inner cage. Around this in an octagonal shape is a large, roofed outer cage, a couple of metres wider in radius than the ring itself. Both of the cages have wide square gaps between the criss-crossing bamboo, easily large enough to be used as footholds for climbing.
Thomas West: "A structure I know very well… it was in this double-cage that I overcame ‘the Prodigy’ Mike Parr in last year’s semi-final. More organic than the Schism, but equally as unforgiving, and we already know which two competitors will take up opposite corners inside of it."
We settle on the stage just in time for…
{PAINT IT, BLACK || THE ROLLING STONES}[MEDIA=youtube]O4irXQhgMqg[/MEDIA]
Kleio walks out onto the stage to a mixed reaction, looking battered and bruised from her exertions already in the tournament. She's patched up with bandages, particularly around the head following the hideous amount of light tube shots she's already endured, though the bleeding has been stymied for now. After a deep breath, she begins her descent down the ramp.
Natalie Rosenberg: "The following semi-final contest is your 'Lahore Lockdown' match! Introducing first… weighing in at one hundred and fifteen pounds… from Rio De Janiero, Brazil… ‘The Boa Constrictor’... KLEIO DE SAAAAANTOOOOOOOS!"
Anzu Kurosawa: "Here comes Kleio De Santos, who has thus far replicated her success in last year's tournament, picking up hard-fought victories against Dan Maskell in round one and then Yuna Funanori in the quarter finals."
Thomas West: "But to reach the finals for a second straight year she'll have to overcome a deathmatch legend in Jeffry Mason."
Anzu Kurosawa: "That task is far from beyond her. The Heretic is a man whose reputation for violence is just as prolific as Mason's, and De Santos overcame him yesterday."
Thomas West: "It's Jeffry Mason's ability to withstand pain, though, that marks him out as the favourite in this one for me. It may be his first KODM, but this is far from Mason's first rodeo when it comes to deathmatch tournaments. Kleio has a tough task ahead of her this evening."
Indeed, as the moon rises on proceedings, Kleio enters the wooden double-cage with a look of apprehension on her face. It is unclear if this is regarding her surroundings or her opponent, or perhaps a mixture of both. KDS enters the ring and waits in her corner, the camera returning to the stage…
{EVIL IS BUT A SHADOW || MILEY CYRUS}[MEDIA=youtube]BC5qrm0S_P0[/MEDIA]
There’s another mixed reaction in the desert for ‘the Saviour of Death’, his white shirt now stained red to the point where the hand-written ONE MORE FUCKING TIME is barely readable. Despite the brutality he’s witnessed (and caused) this weekend, he still has a smile on his face as he begins his walk towards the ring.
Natalie Rosenberg: "And her opponent… from Calgary, Alberta, Canada and weighing in at two hundred and sixty two pounds… ‘the Saviour of Death’... JEFFRY MAAAAASOOOOOOON!"
Thomas West: "Jeffry Mason’s return may have been a surprise, but the impressive way he’s conducted his business - picking up bloody wins over both Jason Randall and Trixie Bordeaux - comes as no surprise at all. Mason has lived up to his moniker of ‘the Saviour of Death’ – in fact, I see real Nephew Potential in the guy. Real NP is a rare and admirable attribute."
Anzu Kurosawa: "Worthy of note is that Jeffry Mason comes down to the ring alone this evening, with Reagan Cole - already eliminated from the tournament himself in the quarter final stage - nowhere to be seen. Perhaps ‘the British Apprentice’ is close at hand, or maybe Mason is going to go it alone for the rest of the night."
For now, ‘the Saviour of Death’ is alone, and he climbs into the ring to face off with Kleio De Santos. Blood has dried onto his forehead and into his hair, and he cuts a repugnant image as he waits for the opening bell. Kleio, contrarily, has done her best to hide the wounds of previous matches with stitches and bandages, whereas Mason wears his battle-wounds in plain sight. The official, having conducted his final checks, finally calls for the opening bell…
MATCH FIFTEEN
Jeffry Mason vs. Kleio De Santos.
Lahore Lockdown Deathmatch.
Semi Finals.
When the match starts, both competitors circle the ring and regard their surroundings. KDS does so with a sense of foreboding, whilst Jeffry certainly seems a little more casual about it. He still has a smile fixed on his face, but there is certainly an element of intrigue and curiosity about him as he considers the wooden cage.
Thomas West: "For all of his years in the business and deathmatch experience, I'm not quite sure if Jeffry Mason has ever been in a match quite like Lahore Lockdown!"
Anzu Kurosawa: "Look it up on cagematch, buddy!"
Thomas West: "… cagematch exists in this universe?"
After circling the ring, Mason offers up a test of strength, a somewhat condescending countenance on his face. It looks as though Kleio is going to take it, but she instead goes behind into a rear waistlock. She bundles Mason forwards into the ropes, taking him backwards with an O'Connor roll…
ONE… TWO… NO!
Jeffry kicks out, and Kleio attempts to follow up with a wild hook, Mason ducking beneath it and then catching her in a backslide…
ONE… TWO… NO!
Kleio kicks out this time, and what Jeffry tries to follow up with a rolling elbow, she ducks beneath and takes the arm, wrenching it into a hammer lock. Jeffry struggles out of it, reversing into a cravate, then taking Kleio over with a snapmare. He applies a bow and arrow hold, Kleio looking to alleviate the pressure and almost squirming out of the hold… only for Mason to transition into a headscissors! Kleio gets up into a headstand and then propels herself up onto her feet, out of the headscissors. She tries to take his head off with a penalty kick, but Mason lies back to avoid it before rolling her up with a school-boy….
ONE… TWO… NO!
Jeffry scrambles up quickly, but Kleio's kip up is quicker. He comes at her but she telegraphs his elbow strike, reversing with a crucifix roll-up…
ONE… TWO… NO!
Jeffry kicks out, and the two engage in a stand-off…
Random Crowd Member: ”WRESTLING!!"
There's a cheer and a round of applause from the audience as the two competitors begin to circle the ring again…
Thomas West: "I'm starting to see what everyone was talking about, Anzu. The view is much worse from outside the cages… I can barely see a thing!"
It's Kleio's turn to condescendingly offer up a test of strength this time, and Mason looks as though he's going to take it… before rocking her down to the mat with a vile headbut. The audience boos the strike as Jeffry Mason looms over Kleio, the advantage shifting to his favour…
***
<< 05:02. >>
After a couple of minutes working away at Kleio's head, Jeffry hoists her up in an attempt for a Doctor bomb. De Santos wants none of it, fighting out with a flurry of straight right hands to the top of the head… and then rolling Mason up with a sunset flip!
ONE… TWO… TH – NO!
Mason kicks out, but Kleio seizes on her moment. With both to their feet, she backs him up towards the corner with a torrent of kicks: stiff ones to the thighs and sides, a jumping roundhouse, a step up enziguri, and then a shotgun dropkick, sending Mason into a seated position in the corner. She backs away from him, a sizeable portion of the crowd as she charges across the ring… and nails Mason with a stalling dropkick!
Anzu Kurosawa: "Kleio beginning to feel the momentum shift in her favour! er favour, dragging Jeffry Mason out of the corner and spiking him onto the mat with a DDT!"
Thomas West: "I think Kleio’s going up top for that elbow drop, maybe looking to finish this one early?"
Anzu Kurosawa: "Early in the match, but deep into the weekend… maybe the effects of Mason’s last two matches are still showing?"
Kleio hopes this is the case, too, climbing up to the top rope and holding onto the wooden cage around her to keep her balance… but she’s not quick enough! As she steadies herself on the top turnbuckle, Jeffry throws himself into the ropes to knock her off, and she lands split-legged over the top of it. Jeffry pulls her legs back over the top rope and then hoists her up from her seated position… before ramming her into the side of the wooden cage!
Jeffry drops Kleio to the ground, seemingly happy with his handiwork until he notices that the side of the inner cage is worn around the point of the impact. The criss-crossing canes that Kleio’s back struck most directly are already bowing and breaking, and this gives Jeffry Mason a sinister idea. He hoists Kleio up onto his shoulder and runs her head-first into the inner cage!! The wood again bows and creaks and cracks, but still just about holds firm.
Thomas West: "Does he know the inner cage door isn’t locked?"
Anzu Kurosawa: "I don’t think this is just about getting outside of the inner cage, Thomas. Some things are about fun and ingenuity! One more time, maybe?"
Jeffry thinks so, too. He picks Kleio up onto his shoulder again, and this time when he runs her into the cage a large hole opens up in it, the wooden canes shattering around De Santos’ head. When Mason drops her, she remains standing with her head lodged in the hole she’s made. Jeffry drags her away from the wall once more and, with the crowd collectively gasping, simply hurls her by the scruff of the neck into the buckling cage wall, which immediately bursts open around the impact!! Kleio falls down onto the outside of the ring, between the two cages, as the crowd bursts into a sudden HOLY SHIT chant.
Anzu Kurosawa: "Jeffry Mason conducting science experiments in his spare time here at the KODM… four good hits is how many it takes to break through the Lahore Lockdown cage!"
Thomas West: "… doesn't actually seem that many."
Jeffry slowly saunters out of the inner cage (through the open door rather than the new hole) and collects one of the broken lengths of pole. He holds it up and looks at the jagged and splintered end of it approvingly, before using it to dig into Kleio's forehead!!
Anzu Kurosawa: "Jeffry Mason is opening up each of the many stitches that have been put into Kleio's head already this weekend! She's opened up again!"
After doing enough damage with the pole, Jeffry searches under the ring for more treats as KDS slumps to the ground. Mason produces a house brick, which he throws through the hole in the cage into the ring. Furthermore, he collects two chairs and folds them out, facing one another, and then retrieves a half dozen of the lighttube bundles (each of which are made up of six individual tubes) that are propped up around the outer cage. He uses the lighttube bundles to form a bridge across the two chairs and then turns back to Kleio, lifting her up onto his shoulder again.
Thomas West: "Is he trying to break through the outer cage now too?!"
That does seem to be Jeffry's intention… but before he can, Kleio slips out of the back and pushes Mason face-first into the more unforgiving outer cage instead! 'The Saviour of Death' is stumbling around, and Kleio rocks him with a boot to the midsection, placing him in a front facelock and dragging him towards the lighttubes…
Anzu Kurosawa: "LETTERS TO KLEIO!! THROUGH THE TUBES!!!"
Glass smashes everywhere after the move, Kleio shielding her eyes from the resulting cloud of dust as thirty six lighttubes break under Jeffry Mason!! Kleio is cut up by the move too, and all she can manage is to drape an arm over the fallen Mason…
ONE… TWO… THRE – NO!!!
Thomas West: "MASON KICKS OUT!! JEFFRY MASON SOMEHOW KICKS OUT!!"
Anzu Kurosawa: "That move out away XYZ and Kayden Knox last year! That move set Dan Maskell up for the climactic kimura lock yesterday, and finished off Yuna Funanori earlier today! But somehow, some way, Jeffry Mason throws a shoulder up!!"
Kleio is in as much disbelief as anyone, and - at least for now - she can't follow up. Instead, she slumps back, the crowd cheering her on but no energy to capitalise.
***
<< 11:30. >>
After continuing to wear him down on the outside, Kleio eventually manages to drag Jeffry back up the steps and through the open door, into the inner cage…
Anzu Kurosawa: "Pinfalls don't need to happen inside the ring here, of course, but it looks like Kleio has a very precise plan in mind…"
De Santos follows Mason into the ring and notices him reaching for the house brick he introduced earlier… so she brings a swift stomp down on top of his hand, crushing his fingers against it!! Jeffry screams out in agony, some of the crowd doing the same along with him! Kleio quickly collects him in a front facelock and drags him into the centre of the ring…
Anzu Kurosawa: "BRAINBUSTAAAAAH!! Perfectly executed!"
Thomas West: "But no cover! Looks like Kleio is going to climb!"
Indeed, De Santos chooses the corner of the cage furthest away from the her-shaped hole and begins to scale it. The going is slow and the structure is rickety, but eventually she succeeds in ascending all the way to the top of the unroofed inner cage. She uses the chains that connect it to the outer structure to steady herself on the top…
Thomas West: "Bad idea!!"
Anzu Kurosawa: "Great idea!!"
After a deep breath, De Santos leaps off the top off the cage, almost brushing against the roof of the outer one as she falls to the mat with a hellacious top rope elbow drop…
Anzu Kurosawa: "NOBODY HOME! Jeffry Mason rolls out of the way!!"
Thomas West: "Bad idea!!"
Having dragged himself up to his feet, Jeffry now helps Kleio to do the same, pulling her in close in a front facelock. He pulls her over towards his discarded housebrick…
Anzu Kurosawa: "SMALL PACKAGE DRIVER!! Into the cover!"
ONE… TWO… THRE – NO!!
Anzu Kurosawa: "Kleio kicks out!!"
Thomas West: "… how?!"
If Jeffry is at all surprised by this at this point, he doesn't show it, instead immediately transitioning from the pinfall attempt into his dragon clutch!!
Thomas West: "LOCK OF AGES! This is the move that finished off Jason Randall in the first stage!"
Anzu Kurosawa: "Kleio taps out! No choice!!"
{RESULT}Winner: Jeffry Mason by submission at 14:10.
Jeffry Mason keeps the move locked in for a customary amount of time before throwing Kleio away from him. He is cradling the hand that was crushed between her boot and the housebrick, He backs away from De Santos, who has in turn seen better days after her three excruciating tournament matches this weekend, and sits in the corner, seething and ruing his injured fingers.
Natalie Rosenberg: "Here is your winner… Jeffry MASON!!"
Anzu Kurosawa: "A gutsy performance by Kleio De Santos, but Jeffry Mason comes out on top in that brutal Lahore Lockdown match… perhaps taking one risk too many in the run-up to that finish."
Thomas West: "‘The Saviour of Death’, though, books his place in tonight’s final, where he will go one-on-one with Cornelius Aurelius Caesar for the FWA X Championship…"
Anzu Kurosawa: "Don’t forget the Crown of Thorns, Thomas."
Thomas West: "I didn’t, Anzu."
We see both doors of the cage being opened so that medical attention can be given to Kleio, but Mason doesn’t wait for them to come in before pushing his way out of the structure. He marches up the ramp as we fade to black.
We cut to a different region of the backstage area, this time away from pesky interviewers and as a fly-on-the-wall within the medical bay. We see Kleio De Santos hobbling into the room, fresh from the bruises inflicted on her in her semi-final match. She looks despondent and frustrated at again having come close to the crown, but internalised this as she climbs onto an empty treatment bed.
Next to her, we notice, is Trixie Bordeaux, who is resting up from her own injuries, incidentally inflicted by the same man. KDS stares ahead of herself and expels a deep sigh.
Kleio De Santos: "I'm guessing you watched it?"
Trixie is perhaps even more despondent and solemn than Kleio. Her response is punctuated by frequent nervous ticks.
Trixie Bordeaux: "Difficult not to. Thomas and Anzu are so loud. But it was difficult to focus, y'know? Looking at Jeffry Mason beating you up just made me think of Jeffry Mason beating me up. I started replaying my own match over and over and over and over again, thinking about what I did wrong. All the things I should've done differently. I know that you can't change the past and you shouldn't cry over spilled milk but I just can't help but keep thinking if I'd just –"
Kleio De Santos: "Stop."
The blunt interruption puts a sudden halt to Trixie's stream of consciousness. Bordeaux blinks at De Santos, awaiting further instruction.
Kleio De Santos: "That sentence sort of got away from you. Besides, you did good this weekend."
KDS lays back in her bed, closes her eyes, and says no more. Trixie awkwardly smiles at nobody in particular before doing the same thing.
Anzu Kurosawa: "Fifteen matches have led us to this point, and now it’s all come down to this: the King of the Deathmatch 2023 grand final, Cornelius Aurelius Caesar versus Jeffry Mason."
As Anzu speaks, the camera pans around the ring area. We see that there are ropes on only one of its four sides. On the other three, rows of barbed wire connect each turnbuckle, and then a series of large 'X's have been made with the material. A seasoned detonation expert would also be able to spot the fuses set up on the barbed wire, as well as on some of the turnbuckles. The result is a rather menacing spectacle, the gathering night only amplifying the tension in the air.
Anzu Kurosawa: "Thomas, you’ve been here at my side through this whole weekend, watching sixteen men and women fall already up to this point… Caesar and Jeffry are, perhaps, two very different competitors, but now they stand upon the same precipice. Who have you got in the final?"
Thomas West: "My opinion no longer matters, Anzu. I’m sorry: over these past two days I’ve realised you have real Nephew Potential, but it is time. I’m afraid I must leave you."
Anzu Kurosawa: "… what?"
We hear the thud of a headset being put down on the desk, and then the camera cuts to the stage as Thomas West emerges from behind it… and then, on the stage, a quartet of Nephews - namely the Maid of Death, NOE-I, Quiet, and Kha’rina - appear through the curtain, flanking Thomas as he approaches the podium housing the tournament’s two prizes. As he stands next to it, we notice that he has a microphone in his hand…
Thomas West: "I’m reminded of that saying, Nephews… to be the King, you’ve got to beat the King. Or something like that. And Cornelius, Jeffry… I’m sorry, but none of you have beaten the King."
With a smirk on his face, Thomas picks up the Crown of Thorns and holds it in front of him.
Thomas West: "My beautiful, barbed crown…"
There’s a wistful, almost nostalgic look on his face as he puts it on top of his head.
Thomas West: "Whoever wins this match will no doubt call themselves the King, but they’re not having my crown! Not until they’ve beaten me! And if they want to do that, they’ll have to catch me on Cosmic Discord Wrestling. That’s right, Nephews: from now on, Thomas West is a CDW Exclusive! Catch me on the I.S.S.!"
Security appears through the curtain behind Thomas as he drops the microphone. When he spots the men in black shirts, he backs up to the side of the ring, the sound of a rumbling engine present in the background amidst the fan’s confused cheering. The four Nephews on the stage with him put themselves between West and the security guards, as a huge, pink sand-buggy skids from around the back of the warehousing unit and comes to a loud halt next to the stage.
Anzu Kurosawa: "Thomas West is stealing the Crown of Thorns!! Oh, Thomas… that’s not yours anymore!"
The podcast host disagrees, it seems. The other four Nephews proceed to fight off the security team as Thomas leaps off the stage and into the open back of the sand-buggy, the camera picking up Uncle J.J. JAY! in the passenger seat and Harry the Sane Wizard behind the wheel. After the Maid lays out one more security guard with a lariat, the four Nephews one-by-one leap down from the stage, joining Thomas West in the back of the buggy.
Instantly, with a screech of its wheels against the sand, the pink vehicle careers through the desert and towards the north. A trio of black trucks appear from the other side of the warehousing unit, following the sand-buggy as it makes its hasty exit…
Anzu Kurosawa: "Well… that was… something."
We cut to the stage, in time for…
{LEGACY OF ROME || ANDREAS WOLDETOFT}[MEDIA=youtube]ZFvborIdCn4[/MEDIA]
There’s a huge pop for Cornelius Aurelius Caesar as he walks out onto the stage. He looks battered by the proceedings thus far this weekend, having gone through three brutal matches as well as three vicious post-match attacks. His shoulder in particular looks to be giving him trouble, and we note that it is heavily bandaged as he makes his way to the ring.
Anzu Kurosawa: "Cornelius Aurelius Caesar has had success in the Fantasy Wrestling Alliance before: he is a former FWA World Tag Team Champion, along with Stu Grimes – noticeably absent from Caesar’s side. It appears the Roman intends to go it alone here in our main event, as he looks to add the FWA X Championship to his trophy cabinet.”
Caesar pauses at the base of the ramp, looking around himself at the various weapons - tables and chairs and light tubes and ladders - surrounding the ring. By now he is numb to them. The weekend has already taken enough of a toll on his body. He takes a deep breath and walks around the perimeter of the ring, regarding the barbed wire that is wrapped around three of its sides.
Anzu Kurosawa: "Caesar was, you may remember, meant to be a participant in the 2022 tournament, though had to withdraw to focus on his recovery for his Carnal Contendership tag title defence against the Stocke Market. This year, though, he’s come and he’s come to win, and now only one match stands between him and victory. One match and one man, the same man who attacked Caesar following his quarter final win against Reagan Cole and Death Walker.”
Finally, Caesar climbs into the ring. He runs his hand carefully across the barbed wire as he walks towards his corner.
Anzu Kurosawa: "Caesar’s other tournament victims have been Jeremy Best and, tragically, myself. It’s been a long weekend already for Cornelius Aurelius Caesar, but Jeffry Mason will be hoping to make it a little bit longer."
The Roman’s music fades out, and is eventually replaced by…
{EVIL IS BUT A SHADOW || MILEY CYRUS}[MEDIA=youtube]BC5qrm0S_P0[/MEDIA]
Jeffry Mason probably has more detractors than fans in attendance, but those that are on his side are loud enough to make up for it, resulting in an even reaction as ‘the Saviour of Death’ walks out onto the stage. His shirt is now completely stained red and, where the oldest blood is, dark brown, his face and hair and shoulders and arms a mess of cuts, bruises, and dried blood.
Anzu Kurosawa: "Jeffry Mason’s very first match in the FWA, and - up until this weekend - his only match in the FWA, occurred at last year’s Back in Business. He may have been defeated by Reagan Cole in that match, but ‘the Saviour of Death’ gave us a glimpse of why he’s earned that nickname. His surprise entrance into this tournament has given those unfamiliar with his work outside of the company more of an insight into how Mason has gained such a violent reputation."
Mason pauses at the top of the ramp, next to the podium where the tournament’s prizes - now prize, after Thomas West’s prior outburst - are housed. He doesn’t seem pleased by this turn of affairs. He shakes his head at the FWA X Championship before turning away from it to begin down the ramp.
Anzu Kurosawa: "Jeffry Mason has thus far defeated Jason Randall in a ridiculous first round match, and earlier today saw to the eliminations of Trixie Bordeaux and Kleio De Santos in the quarter final and semi final rounds respectively. Mason has been on a tear and, despite his association with Reagan Cole heading into this tournament, for his part he has accomplished his victories alone and without outside interference. Although, it’s not over yet, I guess…"
Jeffry climbs into the ring, no-selling the barbed wire and instead fixating on his opponent.
Anzu Kurosawa: "I believe that the time for talk is over!"
The camera cuts to Natalie Rosenberg, who has climbed into the ring with a microphone in her hand.
Anzu Kurosawa: "Oh, I guess there’s going to be a little bit more talk…"
Natalie Rosenberg: "Wrestling fans, the following is a Barbed Wire Spider’s Web Exploding Ring Deathmatch, and is for the FWA X Championship!!"
The match official holds the belt high into the air, parading it around the ring for the fans to see. There’s a general holler amongst the audience, anticipation building for the long-awaited main event.
Natalie Rosenberg: "Introducing first… from inside the sacred Pomerium of The Glorious Roman Empire and weighing in at three hundred and nineteen libra… he is Cornelius… Aurelius… CAESAR!!"
A huge cheer for Caesar, who remains focused on the task at hand, staring across the ring at Mason. A chant breaks out in the crowd:
‘HAIL CAESAR!’
*clap clap clap-clap-clap*
‘HAIL CAESAR!’
*clap clap clap-clap-clap*
Natalie Rosenberg: "And his opponent… from Calgary, Alberta, Canada and weighing in at two hundred and sixty two pounds… ‘the Saviour of Death’... JEFFRY MAAAAASOOOOOOON!"
A more mixed reaction for Mason, though his fans are vocal, and a duelling chant rises:
‘HAIL CAESAR!’
‘LET’S GO MASON!’
‘HAIL CAESAR!’
‘LET’S GO MASON!’
The official, having handed the championship belt carefully through the barbed wire to the timekeeper, conducts his final checks. A cauldron of noise around him, he calls for the bell for the last time in the day…
MATCH SIXTEEN
Cornelius Aurelius Caesar vs. Jeffry Mason.
FWA X Championship.
Barbed Wire Spider’s Web Exploding Ring Deathmatch.
Final Match.
<< 00:00. >>
The two competitors circle the ring, and Caesar - true to form - offers him a Greco-Roman knucklock. It appears that Jeffry is going to take him up on it, but at the last moment he changes tact and delivers a swift gut to Cornelius' abdomen, followed by a half-dozen hard forearm strikes that back him up into the one side of the ring that has actual ring ropes on it. He tries to Irish whip Caesar into the opposite set (which aren't, of course, really ropes at all), but the Roman halts his momentum before he hits the barbed wire. He turns around to see Mason charging at him, perhaps looking to body check him into the ropes…
Anzu Kurosawa: "… Cornelius reverses with a flapjack! Throat and chest first into the barbed wire… AND THERE GOES THE FIRST DETONATION!"
The fuses that are tied up to the barbed wire that Mason hit give off a moderate bang before a half-dozen sparks fly into the air. We can see smoke and hear sizzling, which we get a sense is the seared skin of Jeffry Mason, who throws himself down onto the mat and rolls underneath the (real) ropes on the opposite side of the ring. Caesar doggedly follows him out…
***
<< 03:15. >>
After having thrown Mason into the steel ring steps, which 'the Saviour of Death' hits hip-first and bounces over, landing in a heap on the other side, the Roman fishes under the ring.
Anzu Kurosawa: "There's a veritable heap of weaponry on the outside already - an arsenal, really - but Cornelius Aurelius Caesar wants more! And he produces not one, but two tables!"
Caesar sets the first of his two tables up on the outside, but then notices that Jeffry is stirring on the other side of the steps. He collects a lighttube that is propped up against the barricade (both surprisingly and predictably, this is also wrapped in tightly-wound barbed wire) and brings it crashing down over his head! The barbs and wiring mean that, after impact, the broken lighttube ends are dangling from Mason's head. Cornelius sets his second table up and then heads over to Jeffry, hitting a series of stomps that have him crawling over towards the ring ramp (which, incidentally, is where the tables are set up)...
Anzu Kurosawa: "Cornelius is standing on the ramp with a handful of Jeffry's hair, with those two tables set up side-by-side between them and the ring. He drags Mason's head into position between his legs and hoists him up, maybe looking for a powerbomb through the tables… but Jeffry wants none of it! Right hands to the top of the dome… and then a sunset flip roll-up on the ramp! Caesar's shoulders are down!"
ONE… TWO… T – NO!
Caesar is almost taken by surprise but manages to thrust the shoulder up, rolling backwards and then pinning Jeffry's shoulders with a high stack…
ONE… TWO… T – NO!
Kick out from Jeffry! Both men are up quickly, Caesar going for a spinning back fist. It's ducked by Mason, who follows up with a mule kick to the gut to double the Roman over… snap DDT! Onto the ring ramp! Jeffry isn't quite done: he collects a nearby steel chair that is wrapped in barbed wire, waits patiently for Cornelius to haul himself to his knees… and then hurls the chair into Caesar's face! The Roman can't get a guard up, the object clattering off his head and sending him slumping back down onto the ring ramp. Jeffry presses home the advantage…
***
<< 07:01. >>
After hitting his Saigon Kick on the outside and earning himself another two-count, Mason collects one of the large boards with tight spools of barbed wire atop it. He places this on top of the two tables that Cesar set up earlier (perpendicular to them), smiling at his handiwork before returning to the Roman. Cornelius fights out with right hands to the gut, but Mason stymies any momentum by lifting a knee into his sternum. More right hands follow, and then a kick to the midsection doubles Caesar over. Mason hoists Cornelius up onto his shoulders… and then throws him into the barbed wire ring ropes with a powerbomb! More fuses detonate, smoke streams up into the air, and the sudden nature of the (relatively minor) explosion sees the Roman quickly wrenching him away from the barbed wire. The barbs tear at his skin as he falls down onto the sand below, Mason forcing a forearm into his face and hooking the far leg.
ONE… TWO… THR – NO!
Anzu Kurosawa: "Cornelius Aurelius Caesar gets the shoulder up, but now both men have had a taste of things to come with those explosives. Remember, this whole ring is set to blow just sixty seconds after the conclusion of this match! Exploding Deathmatch means exactly that!!"
With Caesar still recovering from both the barbs and the blast, Mason hoists him to his feet and throws him under the bottom rope, continuing the onslaught in the ring…
***
<< 10:48. >>
Jeffry Mason has Caesar in the corner, where he thuds into him with a series of hard rights… and then bites at the Roman's forehead! The Saviour follows up by taking Cornelius by the wrist and whipping him HARD across the ring…
Anzu Kurosawa: "That's the corner with the charges! Look out!"
Caesar hits them with impact, and the fuses assembled there immediately go off, sending him crashing down face-first in the middle of the ring.
Anzu Kurosawa: "That's all of those minor charges now exhausted, I'm sure Caesar will be pleased to hear. Still the small matter of all that barbed wire, though…"
Jeffry saunters over to Caesar and kicks him in the ribs until he turns over onto his back. Then, his fists raised triumphantly into the air, he places a boot on Caesar's chest in a cocky cover…
ONE… NO!
Caesar isn't happy with the arrogant pin attempt, making sure to kick out at one, with Jeffry Mason backing away from him and awaiting his rise from the corner. When the Roman manages it, Jeffry comes in for another Saigon kick… but Cornelius ducks underneath it and hits a backstabber!
Anzu Kurosawa: "Et Tu, Caesar?! Now Cornelius with the cover…"
ONE… TWO… T – NO!
Jeffry gets the shoulder up, and Cornelius, running on adrenaline, hoists him up to his feet. He backs Mason up into the barbed wire with alternating right hands and knife edge chops before taking him by the wrist and whipping him across the ring. Mason hits the actual ring ropes and bounces back towards the Roman… who hip tosses him into the barbed wire!! Mason is hung upside down and tangled within the wire, with Caesar following up with a series of stomps to the chest, eventually succeeding in kicking Jeffry out of the barbed wire and into a heap on the mat!
Anzu Kurosawa: "Cornelius Aurelius Caesar gives Jeffry Mason no time to rest up, hoisting him up to his feet again… ‘the Saviour of Death’ looks unsteady on his legs, but fortunately I don’t think he’s going to be standing for long… Crossing the Rubicon!!"
Cornelius connects with the Cross Rhodes (ironically, because he’s a Roman), and then hooks the leg…
ONE… TWO… THRE – NO!
Jeffry again kicks out! Caesar looks frustrated by Jeffry’s resilience, but then goes back to work…
***
<< 16:31. >>
After grinding Jeffry’s head against a barbed wire top rope, Caesar throws him into the middle of the ring with a snapmare before following up with a stiff kick to the back. Jeffry, though, clenches his fists and slams them on the mat, roars, and climbs to his feet…
Anzu Kurosawa: "Jeffry Mason is finding a second wind here… and he’s willing Caesar to hit him! He wants his best shot… and the Roman rocks him with a BIG headbutt!!"
Jeffry is rocked by the strike, but then smiles at Caesar, his crooked teeth visible through his crimson mask…
Anzu Kurosaawa: ”… and Jeffry Mason fires back with a headbutt of his own!!!"
The headbutt has Cornelius stumbling backwards… but the Roman shakes loose the cobwebs and hits a second headbutt on Mason! Jeffry seems to be enjoying the exchange, and prepares to return in kind… only for Caesar to knock him off his feet with a standing dropkick! Caesar wrenches Jeffry up to his feet, looking for a Michonoku driver, only for Mason to slip through the back and bundle him forwards into the ropes, taking him down with an O’Connor roll…
ONE… TWO… THR – NO!
Caesar kicks out, scrambles up… a scissors kick rocks Mason! Caesar’s attempting to put him in the cobra clutch, but Jeffry drops to the mat and crawls backwards through the Roman’s legs, picking his leg and sending Cornelius face-down onto the mat…
Anzu Kurosawa: "Jeffry’s going for a heel hook, here! Perhaps channelling his protege Reagan Cole!"
Cornelius desperately lashes out, eventually catching Jeffry flush in the face with a boot. Mason stumbles backwards… and Caesar catches him with a spinning back fist! Jeffry is down to one knee… and there’s the Michinoku driver! Caesar with the cover…
ONE… TWO… TH – NO!!
Mason gets the shoulder up!! Caesar lets his frustration show, backing away from Jeffry and sitting in a corner, weighing up his next move…
***
<< 21:36. >>
Jeffry continues to show his resilience by kicking out of a big HDDVD from Caesar, a tribute to his (former?) tag team partner, Caesar stalks behind Mason as ‘the Saviour’ gets up to his feet…
Anzu Kurosawa: "THE TRIUMPH! CAESAR’S GOT THE TRIUMPH!!"
Indeed, the Roman rag-dolls Jeffry Mason around in the full nelson, the official in close and asking Jeffry if he wants to submit. Mason shakes his head, the force that Caesar is applying to the back of his head making him bleed even more profusely from it, and attempts to break free… only for Caesar to wrench harder, throwing Mason about with such force that the Roman begins to stumble. Jeffry uses this lack of balance to his advantage, forcing Cornelius back into the barbed wire!! The Roman’s back lands in the barbs, and with Jeffry’s force on top of him Cornelius is impaled against them!!
As Jeffry stumbles away from him and climbs to his feet, Caesar wrenches himself from the barbed wire… and then eats a Yakuza kick!!
Anzu Kurosawa: "SAIGON KICK!! There it is again! Caesar is knocked onto his back, but Jeffry Mason is not going for a cover… instead he eyes the two tables and barbed wire board that this pair conspired to set up earlier in the match!!"
With a sinister grin on his face, Jeffry grasps Cornelius by the hair and drags him up to his feet. He boots him in the gut to keep him over, drags his head into position, and then hoists him up… throwing him out of the ring with an Awesome bomb!!!!
Anzu Kurosawa: "Vulgar Display of Power!!!! Caesar is thrown out of the ring, and lands in a heap amongst unforgiving wood and barbed wire!! Bah gawd I don’t know what we’re witnessing here!"
Mason, the adrenaline rush subsiding and the loss of blood suddenly becoming very real to him, stumbles onto his knees, unable to immediately follow up. Eventually, after several deep lung-fulls of oxygen, he climbs out of the ring beneath the bottom rope and covers Caesar…
ONE… TWO… THRE – NO!!
Caesar kicks out at the last moment, the fans in disbelief, the Roman saved perhaps by Jeffry’s increasingly slow pace. Rather than immediately follow up, though, Mason goes beneath the ring again, fishing for something very specific… first, he produces Jason Randall’s tool box, and then a huge pair of bolt cutters!!
Anzu Kurosawa: "Jeffry Mason looking to do serious, long-lasting damage here?!"
Rather than head towards Caesar, though, Mason hops up onto the apron and uses the bolt cutters to cut through the actual ring ropes, near the turnbuckles. He does this to all three ropes, close to the turnbuckle, and then - noticing Cornelius showing signs of stirring - he returns to his opponent and wraps what was previously the top rope around his neck!! Mason tries to choke Caesar out, until the Roman grabs a nearby piece of barbed wire board (the one that he previously fell through) and hurls it up at Mason’s face! Jeffry isn’t too damaged, but loses his grip, and gives Caesar one more stomp before returning to the ring.
Whilst Cornelius is busy unwrapping the ring rope from around his throat, Jeffry Mason collects a Stanley knife from the toolbox and begins to use it to cut down one side of the ring mat, close to the apron…
Anzu Kurosawa: "‘The Saviour of Death’ is taking apart the ring, here! I wish there was somebody here with me to enjoy this with! Jeffry Mason is a sadistic man, and he’s looking to finish off the resilient Caesar with something spectacular..."
After cutting through the mat and thin layer of foam down three sides of the ring, Jeffry pulls back the mat and throws it over one side of the barbed wire, revealing the entirety of the wooden boards beneath it. He notes that Cornelius is trying to climb up onto it, on the side of the ring where there is no longer any ringropes, and helps the Roman up the rest of the way… before hitting a trio of snap suplexes! The exposed boards have Caesar writhing in pain, and after the third suplex Mason goes for the cover…
ONE… TWO… THR – NO!!
Caesar with the shoulder up! Mason is unperturbed, climbing out of the ring and collecting a black canvas bag from near the timekeeper’s area. The audience hoots and hollers as he looms above Caesar and opens up the bag, pouring a combination of glass and thumbtacks out onto both him and the exposed boards!!
With a demonic smirk on his face, Jeffry Mason hoists Caesar up and pulls his head into position between his legs. He wraps his arms around Caesar’s torso, looking for a Gotch-style piledriver…
… but Caesar reverses with a back body drop!! Jeffry Mason is sent into the tacks and glass and exposed wooden boards!! Somehow, ‘the Saviour’ fights up to a vertical base… but Caesar is waiting for him…
Anzu Kurosawa: "A fireman’s carry gutbuster! And he’s not done… CROSSING THE RUBICON!! For the second time in the match! Jeffry Mason is riddled in glass and tacks… all that’s left is for Caesar to make the cover!"
ONE… TWO… THRE – NO!!!!
Anzu Kurosawa: "Mason kicks out! Mason kicks out!!! How are these men doing this?!"
Caesar looks like he may be asking himself the same question, but resolutely lifts Jeffry to his feet. He boots him in the gut, drags him into position between his legs, hooking both arms…
Anzu Kurosawa: "Caesar looks for Crocca Mors… he’s got one of the arms… but Mason rotates out of it and hits a short-arm clothesline!! Caesar is still on his feet, somehow!"
It’s Jeffry’s turn to boot the Roman in the gut and drag his head between his legs… piledriver!! Caesar is spiked onto his head!!
… but he gets RIGHT back up again!! Caesar grasps Jeffry and hits a piledriver of his own!!
… and it’s Mason’s turn to no-sell the pain!! He clobbers Caesar with a rolling elbow, sending the Roman to a knee… and then hits a sit-out spinning Liger bomb!!!
Anzu Kurosawa: "Cornelius Aurelius Caesar is spiked onto this warzone of a wrestling ring! And Jeffry has a cover!!"
ONE… TWO… THRE – NO!!
Caesar kicks out!!! The crowd is going wild!!!
Anzu Kurosawa: "Un… be… lievable!!"
Jeffry is only dormant for a moment… before he rolls Mason onto his front and applies a dragon clutch!!!
Anzu Kurosawa: "There’s Lock of Ages!! Jeffry Mason has it locked in, with Cornelius Aurelius Caesar lying face down on those glass shards and thumb tacks!!"
The referee is in close, asking Caesar if it’s time to give up, Jeffry wrenching harder and harder on the hold…
Anzu Kurosawa: "Mason has already finished off two competitors with this move in the tournament… will Caesar be the third victim?!"
Cornelius, though, is defiant, and with a roar he manages to force his legs forward through Mason’s stance and then stands up… Jeffry still has the hold mostly on, but he’s on Caesar’s back, and - replicating Mason’s reversal of the The Triumph from earlier in the match - he drives Mason backwards into an adjacent set of barbed wire!!
… and there’s a surprised residual charge that detonates just for good measure!!
Mason wrenches himself away from the barbed wire spider’s web, but Caesar is already waiting…
Anzu Kurosawa: "CROCEA MORS!! HE HITS IT!!"
His breathing hard, but the refreshing swell of triumph washing over him, Caesar heaves Jeffry onto his back, and hooks the far leg…
ONE… TWO… THREE –
– NO!!!!
Anzu Kurosawa: "Jeffry kicks out! The crowd can’t believe it! I can’t believe it! Cornelius Aurelius Caesar can’t believe it!!"
Indeed, Caesar has a gobsmack expression on his face, and backs away from a bloody and broken Jeffry Mason, watching on as the Saviour of Death rolls onto his front and forces himself up to his hands and knees…
… and Caesar knows what he has to do, what it’s going to take…
… the Roman runs through him with a hellacious punt kick!!!
Anzu Kurosawa: "Senatus Consultum Ultimum!!!!"
Caesar slumps atop Jefry’s unconscious body with the cover…
ONE… TWO… THREE!!
{RESULT}Winner: Cornelius Aurelius Caesar by pinfall at 31:05.
The bell rings and - after the momentary awe-struck silence that has descended over the scene following the devastating ultra-finisher - the audience goes wild for Caesar upon his victory. For a moment, Cornelius doesn’t seem quite able to relish it, instead rolling off Jeffry Mason and staring up at the night’s sky…
Natalie Rosenberg: "Here is your winner… the 2023 King of the Deathmatch, and the NEW FWA X Champion… CORNELIUS… AURELIUS… CAESAR!!"
Anzu Kurosawa: "I can understand Caesar’s reluctance to drag himself up to his feet… that was a hellacious match at the end of a long weekend for the Roman… but he’s gotta start moving soon! That ring is going to blow!!"
It appears the referee is telling Caesar the same thing, and the Roman crawls out over the side of the ring unobstructed by barbed wire. He is stumbling back up the ramp as he glances back at the ring…
… where the official is trying to shake some life back into a still unconscious Jeffry Mason! He’s having no luck, and eventually the referee gets to nervous to continue, quickly darting away from the ring and passing by Caesar on the ramp…
… and then, from behind them both, ‘the British Apprentice’ appears on the stage!!
Anzu Kurosawa: "Here comes Reagan Cole! He’s storming down the ramp, but time isn’t on his side…"
Reagan slides into the ring and starts to slap Mason across the face, eventually causing some sort of reaction but not enough to rouse him and get him away from the scene. A countdown timer appears on the screen, which - of course - the fans begin to count along with…
TEN!
Jeffry’s eyes jolt open as Cole slaps him once more across the face…
NINE!
Mason looks around himself, perhaps not quite sure where he is…
EIGHT!
Reagan Cole is shaking Mason, attempting to drag his dead weight towards the side of the ring…
SEVEN!
… but Mason is confused, and he resists his old enemy…
SIX!
… Reagan, at his wit’s end, begins to roll Jeffry towards the ropes… but in the chaos he mistakenly rolls him the wrong way towards one of the barbed wire spider’s webs!
FIVE!
Cole corrects his course, beginning to push a resistant Jeffry towards the correct side of the ring…
FOUR!
Anzu Kurosawa: "This is too much! The tension!!"
THREE!
In the confusion of just coming around following the punt to the head, Jeffry seizes the discarded Stanley knife and slashes it across Reagan’s arm!! Cole recoils, blood beginning to stream down from the gash!
TWO!
But resolutely, Cole squeezes Mason’s wrist until he drops the knife and continues to heave him towards the edge…
ONE!
Mason, perhaps thinking he’s in some sort of battle royale situation, holds onto the side of the ring apron, desperate to not be removed from it as Cole’s agonised face implores him to do the opposite…
… and the ring goes BANG!
There’s a deafening bang and a huge fireball as fuses beneath the ring boards and around the turnbuckles simultaneous explode! The crowd, the official, and the new champion are thrown back by the power of the blast… and from the edge of the fireball we see Jeffry Mason and Reagan Cole emerge! Cole rolls in the sand next to the ring, and a pair of security guards are in quickly to take a fire-extinguisher to Mason’s back… Reagan Cole sits down at the base of the ramp as Jeffry rolls onto his back, staring at the moon and drifting in and out of consciousness.
Anzu Kurosawa: "What did we just witness?! We need some help out here for Jeffry Mason… and probably for Reagan Cole, too!"
One man who, despite the injuries sustained throughout the weekend, is not in need of help is Cornelius Aurelius Caesar. After witnessing the spectacle of the blast, he has retreated up the ramp, now standing next to the podium on the stage. Finally, he lifts the championship belt by one of its straps, holding it up in front of him as the audience cheers his name…
Cornelius Aurelius Caesar lifts the FWA X Championship up into the air as a dozen or so medical professionals stream by him towards the ring…
Above the stage, indigo fireworks blast against the black night’s sky…
… and then, as they subside, something else…
… the rotor blades of a helicopter, perhaps, rumbling in the distance… low and quiet at first, but louder and louder, until finally there’s no ignoring the presence of a sleek, black chopper high above us in the air.
Anzu Kurosawa: "I… I don’t think we’re quite through here… last year’s tournament saw Danny Toner arrive in a helicopter before our final, but tonight we have a visitor after the conclusion of the tournament. And Toner was already here..."
Even the champion’s eyes are drawn up to the helicopter as it lowers itself down, at first blocking out the moon but eventually getting closer and closer to the desert…
… until we can see two figures. Both of them familiar.
One is old, with white hair, and a smart, crisp business suit. The other is young, with blond hair, and a smart, crisp business suit.
Anzu Kurosawa: "That’s Shawn Summers… and he’s with Rupert Watkins!!!!"
The crowd has done a fair bit of booing throughout the weekend, but never have they been as ferocious in their hatred or as united in their cause as they are right now. Summers has his FWA Television Championship on his shoulder and a smile on his face.
Anzu Kurosawa: "Shawn Summers has a match tomorrow night in Chicago, Illinois… and Rupert Watkins hasn’t been seen in the FWA since the Anniversary Show! What on Earth are they doing here?!"
It seems like we might be able to find out, with the helicopter touching down in the desert and ‘Der Basterd’ himself stepping out onto the sand. Rupert is right at his side as he walks through the cleared crowd and up a set of steps that put him face to face with the King of the Deathmatch. As the crowd shows both their hatred and their excitement simultaneously, Shawn Summers snatches a microphone out of a nearby stage-hand’s grasp.
Anzu Kurosawa: "Maybe we’re about to find out!!"
As Summers lifts the microphone to his lips, Caesar places his newly won championship belt onto his shoulder, mirroring the man in front of him.
Shawn Summers: "So this is the new King... but no crown, it seems."
Summers glances around at his desert surroundings…
Shawn Summers: "And this doesn’t really look like the Granary at all…"
He looks over at Watkins, who nods in agreement.
Shawn Summers: "In fact, you can call this the King of the Deathmatch all you like, but calling it that doesn’t make it so. And we would know… you see, my Uncle Ru came up with the King of the Deathmatch! And what we’ve seen over the last two days, well… we thought we should stop by and pay you pretenders a little visit."
Caesar is ready to fight but not to talk. He is breathing heavily and a bloody mess, and watches the two newcomers carefully as they continue. He is keeping a particularly close eye on Rupert, owing to their history in the whole Executive Excellence affair and his involvement in Stu Grimes’ downfall.
Shawn Summers: "But the King of the Deathmatch isn’t the only genius invention from the mind of Rupert Watkins… there’s also my contract, which the FWA is legally obliged to honour following its hostile takeover of Fallout, Inc. I’m sure you fucking marks remember it being leaked in the dirtsheets last Summer. And, specifically, the clause that entitles me to a title shot of my choosing if I win enough matches this year."
Der Basterd smiles, and takes a step towards Cornelius.
Shawn Summers: "And Daddy’s won a lot of matches this year. I pick you, Caesar! I’m challenging you at the Carnal Contendership for that championship belt. And you know what?"
One more glance around the desert.
Shawn Summers: "Let’s do it on my terms. I may not have been at the tournament last year, but I’ve grown to know the venue quite well. So in twenty two short days time? It’ll be a Rupert’s Granary ‘Most Dangerous Game’ X Rules Deathmatch!"
Despite their antipathy towards the man and the other he’s brought with him, the fans can’t help but show their excitement for the challenge.
Shawn Summers: "I’ll see you soon, Caesar."
As Summers drops his microphone, the Roman lifts his newly won FWA X Championship into the air. His new challenger does the same with his FWA Television Championship. The show closes on a wide shot of the two upon the stage, locked in this stand-off.
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Post by supinesnake on May 28, 2024 21:11:09 GMT
 Sunday 9th April, 2023. LIVE! from the United Center in Chicago, Illinois, USA. After a huge display of red and gold pyrotechnics and a cursory scan of a packed and excited United Centre, we cut to Kurt Harrington in the ring… Jean-Luc Watkins: "Welcome, wrestling fans, to Chicago, Illinois… for the Grand March 2023! And we're diving straight into the action! Kurt…"Kurt Harrington: “Ladies and gentlemen, this opening match is a tag team match, scheduled for one fall and a 30 minute time limit!”{"INVASION || JIM JOHNSTON"}[MEDIA=youtube]RXakXogkfME[/MEDIA] The opening beats to “Invasion” echo through the United Center as the camera shows Joe Burr exiting his locker room with multiple security guards. He is in his black trunks and boots. His head is down, curly hair going down to his shoulders. There is a look of focus on his face as the Chicago crowd chant along to the tune of his theme- “JOOOOOOEEEEE BUURRRRRRRRRRR!”
“JOOOOOEEEEE BURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!”Kurt Harrington: “Introducing the participants… First, from Brooklyn, New York and weighing in at one-hundred and twenty-five pounds… ‘The Giant Killer’ JOOOOOOEEEEE BURRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!”Stepping through the curtains, Joe Burr gets to the stage as sparks of pyro shoot around him and he stands in the middle of the fiery display. As the pyro stops, he throws his hands multiple times in tunes to more bursts of pyro as he makes his way down the ramp. Allen Price: “Opening match here as we have Joe Burr teaming with Lizzie Rose in an attempt to take a stand against a new force in FWA which has had a very keen interest in the former North American Champion, Eternal.”Rod Sterling: “Joe Burr is known for finding unique ways to get a pinfall victory over someone, but this match isn’t so much about the result. Point is, Eternal is dangerous. Those two “sisters” are absolutely twisted in the head and we saw them chop down the Lumberjacks who are DOUBLE their size. Then add Nova’s deep performance in the tag team elimination match.”Jean-Luc Watkins: “However, much to the detriment of a good number of his past opponents, Joe Burr has the ability to surprise almost any opponent. That roll-up… is certainly something.”Getting to the end of the ramp, Joe Burr looks around the packed arena, a small sense of unease is on him. His harsh defeat recently is in the back of his head, but this time if he fails, he also fails his friend. Heading to the steps, Joe goes up them and steps into the ring, going under the middle rope because of his size. His theme music fades and is replaced by Lizzie’s. {"THE KEY, THE SECRET || URBAN COOKIE COLLECTIVE"}[MEDIA=youtube]2wyv52Ahry0[/MEDIA] Drawing a positive reaction from the fans is the theme music of “The Rave” Lizzie Rose. The lights of the stage flash a mix of fun colours to her theme music but Lizzie doesn’t make her way out right away. Allen Price: “And Lizzie making her first match since Back in Town after being mentally preoccupied for obvious reasons and the fans are excited to see her return to the ring!”Jean-Luc Watkins: “In a way, I can understand why Eternal has taken a keen interest in Lizzie. If we take account of the most improved wrestlers in FWA from signing to now, she ranks up there and still has a higher ceiling.”Rod Sterling: “A former North American Champion already, the sky truly is the limit for Lizzie Rose, but it could be contingent on how much she allows this Eternal to interfere.”Her music plays for a bit longer and finally, Lizzie makes her way out, but she looks back, tapping her ear, saying something to a producer. Something is off. Kurt Harrington: “His tag team partner, also from Brooklyn, New York, she is ‘The Rave’ LIZZZZZZZZZZZIIIEEEEEEEEEEEE ROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSSSEEE!!!”Lizzie Rose makes her way down the ramp, but she isn’t having her normal energy for her entrance. Something is off for her. The popular former champion high fives a couple fans on her way down the ramp, but continually looks back, tapping her ear again. Allen Price: “And Lizzie Rose, lacking some of the same energy we have seen from her before. We know Eternal has been heavy in their mind-games and likely have a mental edge going into this match, but I’m confused.”Rod Sterling: “It’s strange. We know Lizzie has had confidence issues before. She’s overcome a lot to even make it to here, but… She doesn’t seem like her right now.”Rolling into the ring, Lizzie Rose looks around, her lights are flashing but nothing. Her theme music fades as Joe goes up to her and talks to his tag partner, trying to get her head checked. The camera can’t make out much of what is said, except for one… small exchange. “Where was my music?” Lizzie asks… The commentators pick up on this. Jean-Luc Watkins: “Music? It was playing-”Rod Sterling: “-Are here ears plugged or-?”{"RAGE BENEATH THE MOUNTAINS (COVER) || LINDSEY STIRLING"}[MEDIA=youtube]hU0Zbpf0OS8[/MEDIA] The lights cut to a mix of gold and violet as the theme music of Eternal plays, drawing a mostly negative reaction from the Chicago crowd. Two masked individuals with Crow masks walk out with flower baskets under their arm, gently throwing rose petals around. Both Keres and Princess Nova make their way out, with Keres being carried by two individuals and Princess Nova walking out with her long frilly flowing skirt. In each of their hands is a bouquet of flowers. Princess Nova curtsies on the stage as Keres looks forward coldly. Kurt Harrington: “And their opponents, hailing from The Residence, are the team of the TORN Angel, Princess Nova, the Daughter of Demise, Keres, they… are…EEEEEEEEEEETTERRRRRNNNAAAALLLLLLLL!!!”Jean-Luc Watkins: “Waltzing to the ring in a field of flowers, Eternal, Princess Nova and Keres. The mind games continue.”Rod Sterling: “They have a flair for the dramatic, that’s for sure, but there is a bite to it. Take Princess Nova. Even before Keres joined her, from the brief glimpses we have seen of her and those who know her career prior to FWA know she has what it takes to be a singles star.-”Allen Price: “But with Keres, now they’re a deadly duo.”Heading down the ramp, the two followers with the flower baskets continue to throw petals around as if it was a wedding, covering the ramp and floor with flowers. At ringside, they continue to walk around the ring, spreading flowers. Keres continues to be carried. At ringside, Princess Nova turns to the steps and goes up them. Wiping off her boots, she enters the ring between the middle and bottom rope as Keres is gently placed on the apron, her feet not touching the ground. Nova raises the middle rope so her sister may enter. Both of them immediately walk to the corner with Joe Burr and Lizzie, looking both of them dead in the eyes. Rod Sterling: “Joe Burr and Lizzie Rose, face to face with Lizzie’s tormentors.”And- both of them hand the flowers to Lizzie and Joe. Princess Nova skips back to their team’s corner as Keres walks backwards, not taking her eyes off them. Joe Burr immediately throws his flowers down while Lizzie… stares at them a moment, still confused over them. Joe rips them from Lizzie’s hands and tosses them down to ringside. He looks her in the eyes, putting his hand on her shoulder. “Don’t let them get to you.” He tells her, easier said than done. But, she knows at least she has his support. The referee, Richard Davis, motions for both teams to step back into a corner each. There seems to be some form of discussion taking place between the sisters of Eternal over who is going to start the match, whilst Joe Burr takes it upon himself to get things going for the Brooklyn natives. As the match begins, Joe Burr is going to be kicking things off alongside Keres of Eternal. The crowd are firmly in support of the young and diminutive New Yorker, and loud chants boom through the United Center. “JOE IS GONNA KILL YOU!
JOE IS GONNA KILL YOU!”Joe has to check on Lizzie for a moment to ensure that she is with it enough to take part in the match, but this proves to be a costly mistake as it allows Keres to ambush him from behind and knock him down onto the mat. The crowd boos and Lizzie Rose is shown watching on in an almost trace-like state as Keres picks Burr up from the mat and then stings his chest with a Knife Edge Chop across his pectorals. This does not take Burr down from his feet and he attempts to return fire with an open-handed slap to Keres, but she catches it and wrings his arm and gets behind him. She attempts to rush him forward into one of the corners, but Burr gets his boot up and uses it to stop the impact and he pushes backwards, causing Keres to fall down onto her back. Burr is able to roll through; and the referee drops down and the referee makes the count; ONE… TWO… NO!! Keres and Princess Nova wear a look of shock on their faces as they almost become the next victims to the quick finishes utilised by Joe Burr in his matches. Keres, set on making Burr pay, gets up immediately and looks to meet Burr with a kick to the midsection, but Burr catches the leg as it is fed into him. He holds Keres still for a moment and then sweeps her other leg, and brings down an elbow across her chest! The crowd cheers and Joe is able to see some levity in the situation and he jumps back up and flexes his muscles for a moment, but this proves costly as it permits Keres to reach her partner and bring Princess Nova into the match. Allen Price: “Princess Nova into the match for the first time, looking to make it two wins from two in Pay-Per-View appearances in the FWA after winning a ladder match at Back in Town back in February.”The crowd reacts negatively towards Nova as she waits for Burr to turn back around, and Lizzie does not warn him of the looming danger. Once Joe turns around, Nova charges forward and cracks him in the forehead with a Running Forearm Smash! Princess Nova curtsies to the crowd and then again to a confused Lizzie Rose, and she then turns her attention back to Joe Burr. Joe is in the process of picking himself up, but a stomp to his ribs causes him to fall to the side and he shuffles across the mat to the nearest corner, which happens to be the one which Keres is occupying. Nova stalks Burr and measures another stomp to his ribs and then goes to work on stomping Joe out some more whilst he is in the corner. Princess Nova then places both feet on Burr’s throat and face and uses the top rope to create some leverage, all the while giggling uncontrollably at the position she has her opponent in. Davis initiates a count, but Keres tags in before Nova can reach five and draw a disqualification. Keres does not get straight into the ring though; she reaches through the ropes and brings Burr up and applies a Sleeper Hold. With Burr trapped in the corner by Keres, he is easy pickings for Nova to run in and connect with a Running Dropkick in the corner! Keres reaches over the ropes and tags Nova, making her legal once again, and Nova rises up and delivers a Snapmare to Burr, before she tags Keres back in. Keres enters through the ropes and strikes Burr with a Penalty Kick to the back, and Burr slumps onto his back. Princess Nova ignores the referee’s demands for her to leave the ring and she leaps into the air with a Moonsault Knee Drop onto Burr’s chest! Jean-Luc Watkins: “Some more excellent tandem offence being displayed by Eternal here, gentlemen. They’re bending the rules slightly, which I don’t think we can hold against them too much, but they are being effective.”Allen Price: “As long as you don’t mind me bending the rules a little bit in our match later, Jean-Luc. I might even let you get more involved in the match than Lizzie Rose is choosing to be.”Finally, Princess Nova leaves the ring, and Keres quickly jumps on top of Burr and goes for a cover! ONE… TWO… NO!! The crowd are pleased that Burr kicked out, but they realise that this means only more punishment for ‘The Giant Killer’ and Keres aggressively pulls Joe up to his feet and she drags him towards Lizzie Rose, who simply watches on. Keres holds Burr’s arm out for Lizzie to tag, but ‘The Rave’ is extremely hesitant to get involved in the match. Keres’s taunting and mocking actually allows Burr a chance to get a bit of offense in with some elbows to Keres in the ribs region and he then gets his head underneath her arm and takes her over with a Back Suplex! Both Burr and Keres remain on the mat for a few moments, and Burr reaches up towards Rose… but he finds himself being dragged away by Princess Nova! Nova yanks Burr back across the ring by his boot and then gets back in her corner, ignoring the jeers from the crowd. The impact of this is that Burr now has to get past Keres once again in order to reach his partner and he rises back up and cracks Princess Nova with a forearm to the chest, which causes her to drop down to a knee on the apron. Jean-Luc Watkins: “Got to give some credit to Joe Burr, here. He’s not prepared to give this up and not at least without putting up a fight first.”Rod Sterling: “Having had the pleasure of calling almost every match of this young man’s career, I can confirm that is just not his style, ‘Baby’.”That received a positive response from the crowd and Burr sees that Keres is advancing back up to her feet and he charges in and jumps over her head… CODE RED!! The crowd marvels as Burr pulls out the complicated move and he keeps Keres’s shoulders pinned down to the mat! ONE… TWO… NO!!! Despite this effectively being a Handicap Match, Joe Burr is showing how much fight he has in him by continuing to bring as much fight as he can to Eternal. Joe quickly gets back to his feet and he runs towards Princess Nova and connects with a Dropkick which knocks her down onto the floor from the apron. Keres is back up too and she looks to run into Burr with a splash in the corner, but Burr sees her coming at the last second, and she collides with the turnbuckles, which allows Burr to roll her up - but he does not keep her shoulders pinned to the mat. Instead, Burr allows Keres to roll through all the way back and BURR CATCHES KERES WITH AN RKO AS SHE GETS BACK UP!! The finishing move of Burr’s former tag team partner and mentor Saint Sully gets a cheer from the crowd, and Burr once again goes for a pin attempt on Keres… ONE… TWO… THR-NO!! It is broken up by a returning Princess Nova! The crowd are not happy as Nova saves the match for Eternal, but then once again oversteps her boundaries by grabbing Burr and throwing him through the turnbuckles into the ring post! Burr slumps back down into the ring as Nova returns to her corner and she accepts the tag from Keres, who then places Burr up onto her shoulders as Nova runs the ropes and then comes back with a Springboard Cutter of her own! Jean-Luc Watkins: “The Elevate and ReNovate from Eternal, and well, Joe Burr could be done here. He got back into the match but it was only a matter of time before the numbers caught up to him again, especially with Lizzie Rose so off her game tonight.”Allen Price: “Joe needs Lizzie here, Jean-Luc. Joe Burr has been there for Lizzie Rose at every step of the way, helping her through these mind games, and she really needs to return the favour if these two have any hopes of winning this match.”With Eternal now in a stage of simply toying with Joe, the attention of the crowd turns to Lizzie Rose on the ring apron, still yet to see any sort of action in this match due to her current state. They chant for her; booming shouts of “LIZ-ZIE! LIZ-ZIE!! fill the United Center, and the crowd are willing the former North American Champion on and whether it is this that seems to change the demeanour in Lizzie Rose, but she widens her eyes for a moment and then seems to snap into action. She sees that Princess Nova is giggling and laughing as she applies a Bow and Arrow Hold to Joe, and she starts clapping her hands, attempting to encourage Joe to find the strength inside of himself to allow an escape. Despite this though, Joe Burr is in a bad way and he is trapped in a hold where there is no easy escape. Lizzie claps her hands and stomps her feet but it is too much for Joe to hold on, and he seems to be about to submit when Lizzie Rose takes a look at the pain etched on his face. There was only so much of this she could take just standing by. Lizzie takes it upon herself to enter the ring and she bundles into Nova to break the submission and then continues her press forwards by hitting the ropes adjacent to Keres on the apron and she hits The Shuffle! The Triangle Dropkick knocks Keres to the floor and then has to deal with Princess Nova once again - but Lizzie puts her down with the Brooklyn Flash! Jean-Luc Watkins: “Lizzie Rose has arrived in this match! Out of the frying pan and into the fire, she’s seen enough of the punishment endured by Joe Burr and she could really turn the tide in this match.”The Chicago crowd have come alive with Lizzie Rose taking it to Eternal, showing some resistance to their attempts to court her, and she resumes her position on the ring apron and extends her hand in waiting for Joe Burr to finally reach her. Joe crawls on his belly as much as he can and then leaps forward, and gets the tag to Lizzie, who now enters the match legally! As Lizzie gets into the ring, she finds herself standing face-to-face with Princess Nova and without Joe Burr being in peril anymore, she all of a sudden seems less willing to fight and is again thrown off of her game, it would seem. This confusion plays into Eternal’s hands, as it allows another illegal intrusion by Keres - back from being downed on the outside - and she clubs Lizzie from behind! Eternal lay into Rose with some punches and stomps, and then pick her up so Nova can strike with a Spinning Heel Kick to the midsection, and Keres follows up with a Knee Lift and then drops down onto her hands and knees, and Nova Dropkicks Lizzie, knocking her back over Keres and onto the mat. The referee seems to have given up on ensuring the non-legal competitors remain out of the match, and Keres now lifts Rose from the mat and drops her across her knee with a Backbreaker. Keres keeps Lizzie in that position as Princess Nova now seeks to go to the top rope where she can put the finishing touches on Lizzie… AND PRINCESS NOVA LEAPS ONTO ROSE WITH A DOUBLE FOOT STOMP - THE ETERNAL DEMISE! The ‘sisters’ take great pleasure in hitting that move, and they take a moment to taunt the fans before Nova drops to her knees with a devious smile on her face, ready to make the pin; Jean-Luc Watkins: “Regrettably, it is going to be too little, too late for Lizzie Rose in this match; as this is surely academic.”ONE… TWO… THREE-NO!!! JOE BURR BREAKS THE PIN UP! The crowd cheer as Burr keeps himself and Lizzie in the match with the last-millisecond save to break up the pin, managing to weave past Keres to break the fall. Burr though is still completely spent from the beatings he has taken throughout the match and as a result of this is he unable to defend himself as Keres picks him up and bundles him out of the ring, where she follows. A very angered Keres then launches Burr into the ring barricade, and Princess Nova cheers her partner on from inside of the ring as Keres continues her assault on Burr on the outside. Rod Sterling: “Speaking of regret, Jean-Luc… Joe Burr may be regretting breaking that pin up as he is really getting it from Keres now as a result on the outside.”Inside the ring, Princess Nova applauds Keres’s handiwork, but she does not notice someone rising to their feet behind her. Nova’s back is turned on Lizzie Rose… AND THIS ALLOWS LIZZIE TO HOOK HER UP FROM BEHIND AND THEN HIT HER WITH THE SLICED LIZ!! Lizzie quickly gets on top of Nova, hooking both legs! ONE… TWO… NOVA KICKS OUT… JUST AFTER THREE!!! {result}Winners: Lizzie Rose and Joe Burr by pin fall at 11:14. Lizzie Rose and Joe Burr steal it! Princess Nova is convinced that she kicked out in time and she is immediately joined in her protests by Keres after she puts one final boot to Burr on the outside, and Lizzie rolls out of the ring immediately to escape any potential wrath from her opponents and to check on Joe. Kurt Harrington: “Here are your winners… JOE BURR and LIZZIE ROSE!”Allen Price: “It just goes to show you that you can never write an underdog out; Lizzie Rose finally came to her senses towards the end of that match and she made the most of the opportunity presented to her.”Jean-Luc Watkins: “Definitely a big win for Lizzie Rose and Joe Burr here over Eternal, in what was a match that could have easily gone either way. I don’t know about you guys, but a run at the FWA World Tag Team Championships isn’t out of the realms of possibility, is it?”Rod Sterling: “That may have to wait, because I’m not certain that Eternal will let this go just yet; they’ve invested a lot into Lizzie Rose already and they might not be content until they’ve had some sort of return. Look, they want Lizzie and Joe back in the ring.”Having seemingly come to terms with the result of the match, Eternal beckon the winners back into the ring and after exchanging a nervous look with Joe, Lizzie’s curiosity gets the better of her and soon enough she finds herself standing in front of Keres, who sizes her up for a moment. Princess Nova is in the corner of the ring, guarding her face it would seem. From the outside Joe Burr notices that Lizzie is back in the ring and despite his beaten state, he pulls himself up and slides back into the ring, where he gets in between Lizzie and Keres. Nova puts something back into her top and then rejoins the scene. Nova makes it clear that they come in peace, and she offers a hand out to Lizzie Rose. Allen Price: “A show of respect?”Joe initially tells Lizzie not to accept, but Lizzie brushes off his concerns and then accepts the handshake to a very kind reaction from the crowd. Keres then extends her hand to Lizzie, which Lizzie also shakes. Now, Lizzie is telling Joe to do the sportsmanlike thing as well and begrudgingly, he shakes Keres’s hand too. Joe shares eye contact with Princess Nova for a second and then accepts her handshake… BUT NOVA PULLS JOE IN FOR A KISS! Allen Price: “THAT’S MORE THAN RESPECT!”The crowd cheers initially and Joe’s eyes widen as he is obviously into it… BUT BURR THEN DROPS TO THE MAT, KNOCKED UNCONSCIOUS! Lizzie is immediately alarmed, as a chuckle emanates from Princess Nova, and she uses a tissue to dab away the black lipstick on her lips. Nova then curtsies right in front of Lizzie before Eternal take their leave from the ring and Lizzie frantically shouts for medical assistance for Joe. Rod Sterling: “There’s that damned lipstick again! We’ve seen Princess Nova use this before and the effect of this shade is to have knocked Joe Burr out - I think this is their way of telling Lizzie Rose that they can take Joe Burr out of the equation at any time they want to!”Jean-Luc Watkins: “What that tells me, Rod, is that this is far from over between Lizzie Rose and Eternal. What could they have in store for her next?”Eternal depart up the ramp and they take a final look back at Lizzie, who kneels over Joe’s body with a very conflicted look on her face. Almost as if she is torn.  The Fantasy Wrestling Alliance proudly presents… CARNAL CONTENDERSHIP, 2023.LIVE! … Sunday, April 30th, 2023 … … from the Bridgestone Arena in Nashville, Tennessee … - only on the WCNetwork - featuring…Cornelius Aurelius Caesar [c] vs. Shawn Summers. FWA X Title.The Connection [c] vs. The Buddy System. FWA Tag Titles.The 30-person Carnal Contendership Match. FWA World Title - #1C.Jean-Luc Watkins: ”We’re one match in and it’s already been an eventful evening, and the action will continue as we’ll see “The Prodigy” Mike Parr take on Jackson Fenix in a number one contender’s match for the North American Championship.”Rod Sterling: ”That’s right, Jean-Luc. Both men have had success in prior singles outings, which has earned them this opportunity tonight. Mike Parr will be looking to recapture the North American for a fifth time, while Fenix will be looking for his first reign.”Jean-Luc Watkins: ”We’ll see the North American Championship defended later tonight when the current champion Bryan Baxter will defend it against a mystery opponent. You have to suspect that Baxter and whoever the mystery opponent is will be keeping a close eye on this match.”Rod Sterling: ”No doubt about that, Jean-Luc”{WHEN THE LIGHTS GO DOWN || DOWNSTAIT}[MEDIA=youtube]q2XuOvlzVHI[/MEDIA] The theme blares throughout the arena and after a few seconds we see The Prodigy step out on stage. Parr is getting a mixed reaction but mostly positive. He takes it all in and briskly walks down to the ring. Kurt Harrington: ”The next contest is scheduled for one fall with a thirty-minute-time-limit! Introducing first, from Toronto, Canada and weighing in at 240 lb…he is The Prodigy…Mike Paaaaarrrrrrrrr!”Jean-Luc Watkins: ”Mike Parr is fresh off victories over Kayden Knox at Back in Town and Reagan Cole at Meltdown XXVI. Parr appeared on the next cycle at Fallout 027 where he made it known that he was open to all comers for tonight’s event. Subsequently this match was offered to Mike Parr and he accepted.”Rod Sterling: ”We touched on it already, but Mike Parr is no stranger to the North American Championship. He not only has the record for the most reigns with four, but he also holds the record for the longest reign with 454 days. A win tonight would make Parr one step closer in achieving his fifth reign, and if were to successfully recapture the title he would be on his way to breaking WOLF’s record of 602 days of combined reigns with the belt.”Allen Price: ”An accolade I’m sure Mike Parr would love to achieve, but surely he’s not thinking about that and he’s solely focused on tonight’s match. He has to get through tonight if he wants to make it to the title match.”{BOW DOWN || I PREVAIL}[MEDIA=youtube]n2EjeMx4bSg[/MEDIA] Another mixed reaction for the next man to enter the match and once the theme music kicks into high gear, Jackson Fenix appears on stage and not far behind him is his friend and tag team partner, Nate Savage. Fenix does a little posturing for the fans but Savage motions for him to focus and Fenix heeds his partner’s advice. Savage is about to walk down with Fenix but Fenix says something to him, and Savage looks unsure but Fenix assures him it’s okay and Savage nods and heads back through the curtain as Fenix walks down to the ring by himself. Kurt Harrington: ”Making his way down to the ring, currently residing in Los Angeles, CA and weighing in at 210 lb…representing The Undisputed Alliance…Jackson Fenix!”Rod Sterling: ”Wow, Jackson Fenix is opting to go at it alone tonight without Nate Savage in his corner. That is unusual and unexpected.”Allen Price: ”Perhaps he wants to prove he doesn’t need help and that he can do this on his own. If that’s the case I can respect that, that’s a commendable move on Fenix’s behalf.”Jean-Luc Watkins: ”Fenix is coming off wins over Celestia Ravenwood and Dan LuPone in a triple threat match a number of weeks back, and then most recently on Meltdown XXVII he scored a win over Trevor Walker. Those victories, coupled with the nature of the Undisputed Alliance’s consecutive losses over The Connection, invariably due to nefarious skullduggery by The Nephews, contributed to Fenix being awarded this huge opportunity tonight.”Rod Sterling: ”It’s been a number of years since the last time Fenix held any gold here in FWA. Tonight he could be one step closer to changing that, but it’ll be no easy feat. Fenix has had a shift in attitude as of late, and while it’s commendable as Allen pointed out, I’m still not buying it and I don’t know if it’ll be enough to get past Mike Parr.”Fenix is in the ring and does some more posturing for the fans. Parr on the other hand is more stoic and focused in his corner. Referee Tommy Palmer checks both men and then he calls for the bell… DING DING DING!The crowd is split in favor of both of the competitors and the two of them begin to circle each other before locking up. Parr transitions Fenix into a side headlock and Fenix shoves Parr off toward the ropes, and a leap frog from Fenix as Parr hits the opposite ropes and off the rebound he ducks underneath a spinning back fist from Fenix. Parr drills Fenix with several forearm strikes, and Parr has Fenix staggered and sends Fenix off the ropes and then catches Fenix with a hip toss! Fenix hits the mat hard with a slight grimace but he’s quickly back on his feet and ducks a clothesline from Parr. Fenix has Parr set up for a backdrop suplex and he goes for it, but Parr flips out of it in time and Parr drills Fenix in the back of the head with a forearm before locking in a rear waistlock on Fenix and he hits Fenix with a belly-to-back suplex! Fenix winces after hitting the mat and he starts to rise up on one knee but Parr strikes with a shining wizard that knocks Fenix right back down and Parr drops down for the pin… One…TWO-NO! Jean-Luc Watkins: ”A fairly evenly matched contest thus far but now Parr shifts the control in his favor.”Parr peppers Fenix with a few stomps for good measure and then he brings Fenix up in a front facelock, and Parr lays in a few more forearm strikes on Fenix before he hoists him up for a suplex, but Fenix still manages to flip out behind Parr and he clips Parr on the back of his left leg. Parr drops down to one knee and this allows Fenix to strike with a running knee strike to the back of the dome! This time Fenix drops down for the pin… One…TWO-NO! Jean-Luc Watkins: ”Now Jackson Fenix is in the driver’s seat and he’s starting to slow down the pace with a rear chinlock.”Rod Sterling: ”Fenix is wisely digging his knee into Parr’s lower spine as well for extra added pressure.”Allen Price: ”I know that can’t feel good for Mike Parr, look at the pain etched on his face!”Fenix wrenches back with the chinlock and he keeps his knee dug deep into Parr’s lower spine area. One half of the crowd that’s in favor of Mike Parr begins to rally him back in the match, and Fenix tries to shake them off as he wrenches back some more while the referee checks on Parr. Soon enough, the fans rally and Parr starts to rise up while still locked in the hold but he fights out of it with several back elbows right into Fenix’s stomach! Fenix eventually releases the hold and Parr unleashes several uppercuts to Fenix that have him wobbly and Parr sends Fenix over with a snapmare and Parr drives his boot straight into the spine of Fenix with a sharp soccer-like kick! Fenix winces and as he’s slowly rising up, Parr strikes with a flying knee to the face! Fenix is down and out but Parr isn’t through with him yet as he runs the ropes and leaps off and hits a picture perfect lionsault on Fenix into the pin! One…two…NO! Jean-Luc Watkins: ”Parr has regained control and he’s taking it to Fenix now!”Parr sends Fenix to the corner with an irish whip and he hits a running corner clothesline! Parr climbs up and mounts Fenix and drives down fist after fist to Fenix’s head while the fans count along with each strike! After the count reaches ten, Parr leaps off and he sends Fenix into the opposite corner and Parr strikes with a running knee strike right into a running bulldog out of the corner and Parr drops down again for the pin! One…two…THREE-NO! Jean-Luc Watkins: ”Parr is feeling it now and he senses that this may be his chance to close the book on Jackson Fenix!”Parr has Fenix locked in position for the Rolling Cutter, but Fenix spins out of it and he has Parr by the wrist and strikes with a ripcord lariat! Parr is down and Fenix runs the ropes and hits a running single leg drop to Parr! Fenix starts to feed off the energy from his side of the crowd as he positions himself on the second rope, and he waits as Parr is slowly rising up and Parr turns around…SMD! Fenix with the diving meteora from the second rope right into a pin as he hooks both legs while he’s on top of Parr… One…two…THREE-NO! Jean-Luc Watkins: ”Fenix executed that crudely named meteora with precision and he almost had it there, but Parr keeps on ticking!”Fenix stomps down on Parr’s legs before expertly applying the figure four leglock submission! Fenix has it locked down in the center of the ring with nowhere for Parr to go, but Parr musters up enough strength and he turns the tables on Fenix with the figure four now on Fenix! Fenix is trying to counter but Parr won’t let up! Fenix is fighting off the urge to submit and he slowly inched his way toward the rope and he’s able to break the hold! Parr releases it and he rises up while Fenix nurses his leg. Parr stalks his prey and lays into him with more stomps, mainly focused on the leg that Fenix uses for the superkick. Parr pulls Fenix away and now locks in an inverted sharpshooter on Fenix! Parr wrenches back on the hold and Fenix has nowhere to go as he desperately reaches out for that bottom rope! Jean-Luc Watkins: ”Mike Parr has Fenix where he wants him! That leg has taken a lot of damage!”Allen Price: ”That’s Fenix’s super kicking leg! Parr is doing his best to ensure that Fenix doesn’t hit that super kick!”Fenix is able to inch his way closer to the ropes and he’s finally to break the hold, but the damage may be done as Parr releases it and Parr drops down for the pin… One…two…THREE-NO! Parr spreads out Fenix’s leg and drops an elbow down on it! Fenix nurses his leg some more but Parr brings him and goes to whip Fenix in the corner, but Fenix counters and sends Parr to the corner. Fenix unloads on Parr with several knife-edge chops in the corner. Fenix drags Parr out of the corner and sends him toward the ropes and then catches Parr with a sling blade! Fenix limps around the ring and starts to size up Parr for his super kick, but he’s still feeling the effects from all the damage Parr has done to his leg. Fenix realizes he’s wasting precious time and he does his best to fight through the pain and he shakes it off. Parr is up and Fenix goes for the super kick, but Parr senses danger and side steps it and he quickly grabs Fenix in position…Rolling cutter! Jean-Luc Watkins: ”This is it, Parr is closing in on the victory!”Parr then proceeds to ascend to the top…X Marks the Spot! Parr with the pin… One…two…THREE! {result}Winner: Mike Parr by pinfall at 18:22. Kurt Harrington: ”The winner of the match, Mike Parr!”Jean-Luc Watkins: ”That was a highly competitive contest that could’ve easily gone either way, but Mike Parr is the one walking away with the victory!”Rod Sterling: ”You’re right, Jean-Luc. I do think Fenix could’ve put away Parr had it not been for his leg taking the brunt of the punishment in this match. Parr was wise to focus on that leg and in the end it paid off for him.”Parr has his hand raised in victory and he quickly exits the ring while Jackson Fenix is now joined by Nate Savage, and Savage assists a distraught Fenix out of the ring as the show rolls on. A hush falls over the crowd as we cut backstage to see a smartly dressed Todd Salum staring straight into the camera. The shot slowly grows wider to show his guest to his immediate left - Danny Toner. The sudden appearance causes the Chicago crowd to explode into a cacophony of noise. The backstage interviewer has been doing this for a long time, and he doesn’t miss a beat as he begins talking the moment the loud, mixed reaction subdues. Todd Salum: ”Standing by with me right now, a man that doesn’t need an introduction… Danny-”
FUCKING!Salum keeps a poker face other than a slight grimace but Danny’s face immediately lights up. Todd Salum: “Toner. For those watching at home I would apologise for the colorful language you just heard but it seems a rather moot point given my guests usual… distasteful language so I’ll just get strai-”
Danny Toner: “I’m gonna cut ya off right there, Todd! I’ve been in this game a long fuckin’ time and I know what you’re fixin’ to ask old Danny fuckin’, so let me save you some time - this shit with me and Alyster? That’s just what the boys around Tonerville call “gettin’ even”, that’s personal, that ain’t no reflection on what the drop really is. That sloppy bastard injured me, cut short the only noteworthy world title reign in two years, and - worst of all - cost me nearly half a year of my career. It might not be what people wanna hear but I’m nothin’ if not a straight shooter and I’m givin’ it the real one here; what I did to ol’ blue eyes was simply me returnin’ the favour. Don’t look into it any more than that - you know why? Ya don’t? I’ll tell ya why! ‘Cause as much as it killed me to give up that championship belt, the time out from FWA put shit into perspective. Made me realign, find myself, and figure out why it is that I put myself out there to piss, sweat, and bleed all over that ring… it wasn’t to be champion of the world… it was for - don’t go doin’ me for copyright infringement now Baby! - the wrestling fans. For the people that shell out their hard-earned bread to come and see me. For the people that set alarms to go off at ungodly times on the other side of the world, just to tune in and check out what their boy Danny is doin’. For the cats that cough up for every PPV and help make me what I am today - the biggest god-damn draw in FWA history. I do it all for you, the people… and by god let me tell ya - I FUCKIN’ MISSED YOU ALL!”The crowd pops loudly at this declaration, and Danny Toner allows himself the briefest of smiles before contributing. Danny Toner: “I’m dead serious when I tell ya this next little anecdote; every night I sat at home and nursed myself back to health, praying to my deity, that I would give absolutely everything to hear the roar of the fans again. Every main event, every title, every pay-check. I’d give every motherfuckin’ bit back if I could just hear that chant one last time-”
DANNY!
DANNY!
DANNY FUCKING TONER!This time it’s not a quick smile but a full-blown chuckle of laughter as Danny throws his head back, face beaming. He grins at the camera showing his pearly whites before cheekily asking a question. Danny Toner: “Did ya miss me?”A large cheer from the Chciago crowd seems to be the answer. Danny Toner: “I can’t fuckin’ hear you! I said: DID YA MISS ME?”The crowd grows even louder as Danny nods his head with a pursed lip. Danny Toner: “Ya know what, Todd? Interview over. This ain’t fuckin’ good enough, this ain’t what the people paid for, this ain’t what they want. A message like this deserves better. They deserve better. It’s high time - no pun intended - that I go fuckin’ out and stand in MY ring again and tell the people what they want to hear.”A rumble begins amongst the crowd that is growing with anticipation. Danny takes a deep breath before speaking. Danny Toner: “I’ve been waitin’ for this - HIT MY FUCKIN’ MUSIC!!!”The crowd roars as Danny makes his way to the gorilla position with the opening riffs of his infamous theme music beginning to kick in. {GREENBACK BOOGIE || IMA ROBOT}[MEDIA=youtube]Slgj96aXgQk[/MEDIA] Rod Sterling: “Do not adjust your sets or computers, foks, your ears do not deceive you! That is the music of former World Champion, Danny Toner and he is here live on pay-per-view at The Grand March.”
Jean-Luc Watkins: “We haven’t seen this man since Lights Out last year and I for one cannot wait to hear what he has to say, wrestling fans!”
Allen Price: “Well, I can wait! This guy is bad news, we all know that! We seen him return at Night 1 of King or the Death Match to continue his heinous string of attacks against now-former X Champion, Alyster Black! Attacks he’d been committing for weeks may-”
Jean-Luc Watkins: “Here he is!!!”Baby’s excited tone is matched by the outpouring of noise from the crowd as Danny Toner steps out onto the FWA stage wearing Stone Island cargo pants, a matching Stone Island jumper, and white Air Max 95’s. He spreads his arms as he nods his head at the adoring fans on the way down to the ring. Kurt Harrington: “Ladies and gentlemen, please join me in welcoming back to the FWA at this time… DANNY-”
FUCKING!
Kurt Harrington: “TONERRRRR!!!”The crowd cheers loudly as Danny hops over the top rope and into the ring. He motions to Kurt and whispers something to the ring announcer before turning around with his arms spread as his music dies out. He is still holding the microphone from the interview and wastes no time getting into it. Danny Toner: “Chicago, lemme hear ya!”The crowd cheer loudly in response. Danny Toner: “Fuck me, you boys don’t take much pumpin’ up! Lemme tell ya, neither do fuckin’ I! I’m back, lookin’ as good as ever and READY TO FUCKING GO!”
DANNY!
DANNY!
DANNY FUCKING TONER!
Danny Toner: “That chant… all you standing in unison bellowin’ it out… that’s why. That’s the reason. It makes me… it makes me feel something…”
DANNY!
DANNY!
DANNY FUCKING TONER!
Danny Toner: “It makes me feel… fuckin’ sick to my stomach.”The crowd goes quiet as Danny’s face shows that he’s deadly serious. Danny Toner: “Those chants… they piss me off. Ya know why? It shows me just how freakin’ fickle you all are. What’s with all the shocked faces? You motherfuckers are all the same, ya turn on a god-damn dime, and ya just accept the new flavour of the month like it’s nothin’, no big deal. ‘Mon now wrestling fans, don’t act like ya all weren’t sheddin’ fuckin’ tears and actin’ like you cared so much about me when it was announced I was gonna be out of action. Talkin’ smack about how much of a pity it was that I was forced to drop my championship, but… then you all screamed that little bitch Alyster Black on to winnin’ MY motherfuckin’ belt! The man you all thought was responsible for puttin’ me on the shelf. That fuckin’ nobody was the champion and every single one of you all forgot about poor, little Danny.”
DANNY!
DANNY!
DANNY FUCKING TONER!There are still some chants from the more hopeful and optimistic fans in Chicago but they’re growing weaker by the second. Danny Toner: “I may be Danny fuckin’ Toner, but guess what? You simple bastards don’t get to call me that anymore. You’ve lost the privilege. Kurt, if you’d please inform these dumb animals…”An uneasy looking Kurt Harrington clears his throat before stepping up. Kurt Harrington: “It appears I made an error in my introduction. Let me reintroduce the man in the ring…”Pockets of the crowd have begun to lightly boo at this point, but Harrington continues on. Kurt Harrington: “Please welcome back… THE LAST DRAW IN THE SKY-”Immediate booing from the boisterous Chicago fans and Danny breaks into a shit-eating grin. Kurt Harrington: “Danny Toner.”The booing turns up a notch but Danny doesn’t care, he laughs before speaking harshly into the microphone, looking fairly jacked up while doing so. leDanny Toner: “You simple motherfuckers hear that? You’re looking at the main fuckin man, the most marketable guy in FWA history, the boss, the don, The Last Draw in the Sky. Yo, if the meaning of that is lost on this so-called “new wave” in the back - read a fuckin’ history book, you fuckin’ jerk-offs. Let me teach you a harsh lesson, right out the gate - you don’t mean fuckin shit, you’re just paddin’ out the roster, an extra fuckin’ body for me to put in a damn bag. That goes for every single one of you borin’, try-hard, assholes that made the sorry decision to sign on the dotted line in my motherfuckin’ company. There ain’t nobody that moves the needle like me - when I was out the ratings tanked, attendances fell, and people lost interest in the boring, old, merry-go-round that the big circus runs with the same, poxy, shit that they force down your all-too-eager throats.”
Allen Price: “That’s not true!”
Jean-Luc Watkins: “He was doing remarkably big numbers as champion…”
Rod Sterling: “Be that as it may, I think we have to chalk this one up to mere speculation, folks.”Danny allows the noise to somewhat subdue - not that there wouldn’t be a constant backdrop of some booing as he continued down this path. Danny Toner: “Lemme clear somethin’ up before I delve any further… I ain’t aimlessly shootin’ my mouth out here but if someone is accidentally gonna catch a stray and get offended, remember this: I know exactly what I’m doin’ and this gun ain’t loaded to cause offence - it’s loaded to fuckin’ kill.”This more or less being silence to the arena. As much as they are despising what Toner is saying right now, every wrestling fan in the FWA Cosmos wants to hear what Toner’s plan is with Back in Business fast approaching. Danny Toner: “Now I’ve got your attention, eh? Wel then, let’s get right freakin’ into it! You wanna talk bullshit motherfuckers that ain’t ever gonna be over like me? I mean do you really think anybody gives a fuck about Jezza B and that fat sack of shit he runs with once they see my name on the billing? As for fuckin’ Krash? Motherfucker should’ve stayed dead.”The crowd begins booing and shouting obscenities as Toner lowers himself to the canvas and sits against the bottom turnbuckle in a familiar fashion. Danny Toner: “What about my girl M-v-H winnin’ the Climax? She only won the damn thing because I couldn’t compete. That’s three times now she’s managed to get out of our overdue dance. Why would anybody give a fuck anymore about that JANA bitch?”As Danny pulls himself to his feet a fan in the front row with a beer shouts out, “What is JANA!?”. Danny’s eyes widen a bit as he addresses the fan directly, leaning over the top rope. Danny Toner: “Oh, you didn’t know? Just another nasty ass BITCH!!!”The crowd let him have it, though MvH’s unpopular standing with the crowd definitely tampers with it somewhat. Danny climbs onto the second turnbuckle and looks out at the crowd and with no emotion on his face, continues his spiel. Danny Toner: “How about the looonnng overdue shot at the World Championship for Cyrus Truth tonight?”The crowd get momentarily excited for that one. Truth/Toner is a road not often travelled and they can’t hide their feelings over that potential showdown, no matter their feelings for the man perched on the second turnbuckle. Danny Toner: “The only thing that’s overdue is my size ten foot caving your skull in so that we can be rid of your ramblin’, old ass once and for all, you washed up, geriatric, prick. The last time somebody turned on the television looking’ to check out Cyrus was way back when we were being treated to Saint’s illustrious reign.”That’s enough to kickstart the booing again as Danny hops down and walks over to the opposing turnbuckle, climbing that in a similar fashion. Danny Toner: “What about the dollar store Danny Toner? Gotta admire that bleached hair, fuckin’ pussy trying to follow in my path but here’s a little spoiler for ya, Summers - it ain’t what you’re doin’ that gets people talkin’, it’s who is doin’ it. Lesson from The Don. Take heed, Shawn, listen to Daddy.”The crowd are growing louder and barely have time to react before Danny is mounting the third ringpost and going off on yet another FWA star. Danny Toner: “Et tu, Caesar? If rumblings in the back are true, then I believe you have a bone to pick with me over the fate of your dirt-fuckin’, shit tag team partner? Listen, son, you may have spent the weekend staring death in the face and lived to tell the tale but you haven’t stared me in the face. That’d be the last thing you ever do so why don’t you run along and play nice with that soft boy belt that I wouldn’t even wipe my damn ass with!”
Rod Sterling: “You have to take all this with a pinch of salt from Danny when you consider just about everyone he’s called out has either a massive match coming up tonight or are recovering from one from the weekend!”
Allen Price: “For my money, he’s the most horrible person I’ve ever met.”
Jean-Luc Watkins: “But there’s no denying he’s an absolute star! The crowd are in the palm of his hand right now!”The crowd are really letting Danny have it as he struts across the ring and climbs the final turnbuckle he has yet to acrnd and spew venom from. Danny Toner: “And that brings me to everyone’s favourite indy star - Aly Black! He ain’t nothin’ to fuck with, right? Well your boy fucked him up real good.”
ALY’S GONNA KILL YOU!
ALY’S GONNA KILL YOU!
ALY’S GONNA KILL YOU!
Danny Toner: “You brain-dead idiots, you really bought that shit they fed you? Black didn’t injure me, that G can’t touch me, that slow clown can’t lay a damn finger on me. You all want the truth? I took some time off to deal with shit that, frankly, is a hell of a lot more important than the FWA. See, I knew I could come and fuck FWA up and take my championship back anytime I damn well pleased, but some shit, some shit has a timeline on it and I had to strap up and roll out to deal with some real business. When I saw Aly win my belt - sloppy little motherfuker that he is had to do it in a damn clusterfuck - I thought to myself; I’m gonna come back to end this paper reign that holds no weight and slap that masked bitch right in the goddamn mouth. Buuut… before your little indy darlin’ could even hold onto the belt for the length of time it takes to have a Tonerville-style bender… he lost it to Devin Golden. I mean of all the pathetic ways to drop a strap that ain’t yours… losin’ to that emo, wrist-slittin’ fraud has to be the dirt worst. I was fuckin’ embarrassed for both of them. Management was even worse; they tried to dress it up in some bullshit Winter Wasteland match but the hard facts are simple: no Danny, no interest. Are they so naive? Do they not know what people think of Goldie?”
GREATEST EVER!
clap-clap-clap-clap-clap
GREATEST EVER!
clap-clap-clap-clap-clapDanny hops down off the turnbuckle, shaking his head with a look of amazement on his face. Danny Toner: “Gimme a break. That top-hat wearing freak had to wait for me to go to try and make one last move to cling onto relevancy. I even considered coming back to put him out of his misery but then…”Danny stops in his tracks and actually lets out a “Hah!”. He looks like he barely believes the next part. Danny Toner: “Then he lost it to Chris Peacock and to put it bluntly… I just couldn’t be assed pummellin’ Disco to the ground and having my with him again. That pussy fuckin’ loose from me ridin’ him and now it’s just like any other old [*bleep*].”The crowd reacts extremely loudly to that one. Allen Price: “Get this foul-mouthed thug out of there! Security? SECURITY!?”Danny doesn’t seem to care as he leans over the top rope to specifically give Allen Price the middle finger. Danny Toner: “You like watchin’ you dirty, old paedo, don’t ya?”The crowd explodes and a couple of beer cups and balled up bits of trash begin hitting the ring. It only causes Danny to laugh. Danny Toner: “Yo, get me a freakin’ chair, I ain’t going anywhere yet folks; there’s another few chapters to this story.”The booing intensifies as Danny gets handed a chair from a ringside attendant, sets it up, and produces a big blunt from his cargo pants side pocket. He sits down and lights it as some more trash litters the ring around him. He takes a big hit, blowing smoke in the air before continuing his tirade. Danny Toner: “I decided that I’d revert to plan A, namely, smoking Aly Black. Sure, he hadn’t got the world title but to be honest? That has already been slung through the shit so much that I really don’t give a fuck about it anymore, but one things for certain; I’m a man of my word. Cast your minds back to before I had to jet off… I promised Black’s mask and while I got a bit of it when I ripped him to shreds at Lights Out… I didn’t deliver. That’s a debt that I owe, and it’s one I planned to pay. But wait ‘til you get a load of this…”Danny takes another toke to create a pause and build suspense. Danny Toner: “I hit the motherfucker too hard! He aint cleared to compete, and knowin’ what my right knee is packin’, he probably won’t for a long time. No sane doctor on this freakin’ planet would give him the A-okay, ‘specially if they heard he was lookin’ to come dance with me. See, “Blue Eyes”, when Inwanna hurt someone… I fucking hurt someone. Ya can ask Rondo that, ain’t no lies when you’re staring at Danny Toner.”Heavy booing rains down as Danny continues to yoke on his joint. Rod Sterling: “Uh… unfortunately there is an element of truth to what Danny is saying. Alyster Black is out for an indefinite amount of time due to injuries sustained this past weekend.”
Danny Toner: “So, with Aly added to the list of people victimised and brutalised beyond repair by yours truly, what do I do now? Do I keep an eye on the main event tonight? Do I fuck off for a nice beer to go with this fat joint? Do I win the Carnal Contendership for a second year in a row?”The loud negative reaction from the crowd indicates they don’t want Danny to do anything of the sort. Danny Toner: “Don’t worry that all sounds boring as fuck. Though I do have an idea. How about this: I’ll give anybody in the fuckin’ world a chance to shut me up AND get in the ring with the only guy worth a damn dime left in this business… at Back in Business. The show I main evented two years in a row. The PPV that I broke all box office records at. The biggest gate in pro-wrestling history. You’ll get the biggest rub of your life just from being on the same damn promotional poster as me. I’lol be at Carnal Contendership to see if anybody is crazy enough to take me up on this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Maybe somebody is tapped enough to walk out here right fuckin’ now?”Danny laughs his head off in the ring but doesn’t exactly give a lot of time for a response. Danny Toner: “Heh, I didn’t think so. There ain’t a real one left in this company so on that sad note, I think that’ll be all for now from The Last Draw in the Sky, Chicago. Until then, you can all get on your motherfuckin’ knees and never forget…”Danny stands up from the chair and with a big grin on his face, shouts over all the booing in the arena. Danny Toner: “KEEP THE EYES!!!”He laughs and takes a long toke on his joint as we fade to commercial with the crowd chanting relentlessly. FUCK YOU DANNY!
FUCK YOU DANNY!
FUCK YOU DANNY!The scene shifts back to inside the United Center in Chicago and a shot of the commentary table, which Rod Sterling is currently manning the desk on his own. Rod Sterling: “Well, ladies and gentlemen, welcome back to The Grand March, where we have already witnessed some fantastic action already but I do regret to inform you that the next match may be lacking in technical prowess when you compare it to what has already come tonight. I’m going to be calling the action on this one on my own as my commentary partners for tonight are about to be tag team partners in this next contest.”{RAT IN MI KITCHEN || UB40}[MEDIA=youtube]jausD8qsnKU[/MEDIA] There is a collective groan from the capacity crowd as they realise which match is coming up next and well, they do not get any kinder when Ratin Mikichin bops out from the back once his music picks up. Ratin seems very pleased to gain the exposure of appearing on Pay-Per-View and celebrates by exposing rather too much of himself in his lime green mankini. Kurt Harrington: “The following contest is a tag team match scheduled for one fall! Introducing first… from Kazakhstan, Ratin Mikichin!”Rod Sterling: “Whilst I would usually be biased towards my fellow commentators, part of me is pulling for their opponents tonight; if Ratin Mikichin and Steve the Techno Vampire lose, they will be banned from appearing on Fallout in any capacity, which means that we’ll be seeing a lot more of them on Meltdown. Although, I’m not sure it is possible to see much more of Ratin than I am right now!”Ratin does a small shimmy on the stage, almost causing his junk to make an unscheduled appearance, but then settled as his music fades out. {VAMPIRES ARE ALIVE || DJ BOBO}[MEDIA=youtube]0ydRhwnwk-s[/MEDIA] The reception for Ratin’s partner is kinder, with Steve the Techno Vampire being the clear more popular one out of the pair of rivals. Steve walks out with his cape wrapped tightly around him and he takes a position next to Ratin on the stage. He opens his cape out and a plethora of plastic bats drop to the ground, some landing on Ratin’s feet, which he kicks away. Kurt Harrington: “Introducing his tag team partner… from Trancesylvania, he is STEVE THE TECHNO VAMPIRE!”Rod Sterling: “Here is the slightly more bearable one of the two; Steve the Techno Vampire, who has shown some decent ability in the ring, compared to his opponent at least. Oh, wait, what is this?”The oddball pairing of enemies do not make their way down to the ring together and instead wait for someone else, who is revealed to be none other than Greg, who began appearing alongside Ratin and Steve a few weeks ago. Greg carries a microphone in his hand and Steve’s music cuts out as he walks onto the stage. Greg: “Hi, I’m Greg!”As Greg beams out to the Chicago crowd, they make it abundantly clear what they think of him with ferocious boos. Greg does not acknowledge this, and he begins to walk down the ramp, tripping on one of the plastic bats as he does so before composing himself once again. Greg: “What a great evening to be with friends, huh? Well, my friends here, Steve and Ratin might not see eye-to-eye on everything, but one thing they can agree on is that they have been subjected to repeated disrespect and ridicule on Fallout for the last several months.”The crowd continue to boo as Greg accompanies both Ratin and Steve into the ring, where they stand side by side. Greg: “Tonight, Jean-Luc Watkins and Allen Price are going to feel the full extent of the power that these two men possess. We have been selected by a higher purpose - a ’Higher Power’ - to be here tonight and we will show you what we are capable of.
And when Steve the Techno Vampire and Ratin Mikichin win tonight, not only will they be allowed to appear on Fallout as much as they desire, but I will also be petitioning Jon Russnow for a SIXTY minute Iron Man Match to take place on Fallout 028 - uninterrupted!”Some crazy folks in the crowd actually seem to get behind that proposal, but the overwhelming opinion is that such a match would be an unprecedented disaster. Greg: “Thank you everyone, I’ve been Greg.”{THE PRICE IS RIGHT}[MEDIA=youtube]G8iOmVd1W_g[/MEDIA] There are few circumstances which would result in Allen Price receiving an almost-standing ovation, but The Grand March is one of those occasions as his arrival means the end of Greg’s spiel. Price looks every bit of a non-wrestler, dressed in an ill-fitting singlet (though not as garish as Ratin’s mankini), and he does some shadow boxing as he waits at the bottom of the ramp. Kurt Harrington: “Their opponents… first, from Greenwich, Connecticut, he is the self-proclaimed ‘Voice of Fallout’.... ALLLLLEENNNNNNNN PRRRIIIIIIICCEEEEE!!”Rod Sterling: “You will note that Kurt said ‘self-proclaimed’, and that is accurate, as absolutely no one else would call Allen Price that. Allen certainly almost looks the part, at least. This is actually his second match on Pay-Per-View, after losing to TxR and Christian Quinn alongside Chris Peacock and Sauce Man at Lights Out 2021. How things change!”Price ponders getting into the ring with his opponents, but he pauses on the steel steps, deciding to wait for his commentary partner - who for tonight is his tag team partner. {AMERICA IS WAITING || BRIAN ENO & DAVID BYRNE}[MEDIA=youtube]cgk1xd4_YcI[/MEDIA] The fans seem even more delighted to see Jean-Luc Watkins emerge from the back, dressed to compete in much more traditional wrestling attire. Despite looking ready for a match in long Fallout purple tights and white boots, it is clear from JLW’s face that he does not want any part of this, but he meets Price with a fist bump before both enter the ring. Kurt Harrington: “His partner, from Albany, New York and weighing in at two-hundred and ten pounds… ‘Baby’ JEAN-LUUUUUCCCC WAAAAAAAAATTTKKKINNNSSSSSSSSSS!!!”Rod Sterling: “The wrestling purists will be very grateful that Jean-Luc has agreed to be a part of this match, but I think he would not have done were it not for the prize on offer; should he and Allen Price win, he will not have to endure Ratin, Steve or Greg on Fallout ever again. Also a chance for a little stat-padding; since returning to the FWA as part of Fallout, Jean-Luc’s infrequent in-ring appearances have ended in losses to Alyster Black and Chris Peacock.”JLW does not even get into the ring after Allen Price, instead making it clear to his partner that he has got it, and Price all of a sudden seems to lose a bulk of his confidence. In the opposite corner, Ratin and Steve seem to have entered into a small debate over who gets to start, and it is finally settled that Steve will be doing the honours. Referee DJ Franchise calls for the bell to ring, and one of the strangest matches ever booked on an FWA Pay-Per-View gets underway. Once the bell rings, Allen Price turns back around to JLW in his corner to seek some sort of approval, but Watkins motions for him to get on with it so as a result, Price is left to contend with Steve the Techno Vampire in the middle of the ring. Somehow, Price reacts quicker and applies a headlock on Steve. He is not able to hold it for very long, and Steve turns out of it and holds Price’s wrist and flattens him with a Clothesline! Price drops down like a sack of potatoes and Steve pulls him up once again and he knees him in the gut and then drops a sledge down across his back. With Price’s neck exposed, Steve unconsciously gravitates towards it with his fangs exposed, but Price ducks down to avoid it, literally screaming in fear. Rod Sterling: “Oh, come on, Allen! Show some fight in there, isn’t being bitten by a vampire supposed to make you stronger anyway?”Price finds himself in the corner and he puts his fingers in a cross as Steve approaches him, but this unsurprisingly has no effect, and Steve grabs him around the neck and sends him into the corner where Ratin is waiting and Ratin reaches out for Steve to tag him in. The crowd express their displeasure as Ratin enters the ring and Steve helpfully Snapmares Price out of the corner and Ratin pushes him down onto his back from the resultant seated position and gets on top of him for a pin attempt; ONE… TWO… NO!!! Rod Sterling: “Well, this one may be more within Allen’s capabilities and here comes Ratin Mikichin! There you see Jean-Luc Watkins showing little enthusiasm to get into this match.”On the apron, JLW is almost completely apathetic to the situation his partner finds himself in, and Ratin follows up with a stomp on Allen’s chest, which causes him to wheeze and splutter on the mat. Price backs up into the corner and sits against the bottom turnbuckle where Steve steps aside to allow Ratin some room. The fans begin to loudly react as Ratin smirks and hitches his mankini upwards and begins to back up towards Allen Price… AND ALLEN PRICE RECEIVES A STINKFACE FROM RATIN! Once Ratin has finished up, Allen is shown retching from the stench, the taste, the feel - all of it. He gets on his hands and knees and crawls across the ring to where Jean-Luc is waiting for him and it seems that ‘Baby’ has now seen enough and he agrees to tag into the match to a good response from the crowd. JLW enters and immediately runs through Ratin with a Running Dropkick! The force behind the kick sends Ratin barrelling into the corner. Steve does not tag in, but enters the ring regardless, and he jumps at JLW, who catches him and JLW takes Steve over with a T-Bone Suplex! JLW rises to his feet and the crowd cheers enthusiastically. Rod Sterling: “Jean-Luc Watkins turning things up a notch!”Ratin rises to his feet and he swings at JLW, but Watkins ducks it and gets behind Ratin and he applies a Full Nelson - and then he takes Ratin over with the GLASGOW SMILE!! Ratin is planted on the back of his head and JLW rises to his feet quickly and sees that Steve has scaled the turnbuckle, but JLW rushes over and knocks the top rope which causes Steve to lose his balance. Climbing up in the corner himself behind Steve, JLW brings him up and puts Steve up onto his shoulder and JEAN-LUC DRIVES STEVE DOWN ONTO RATIN WITH THE PARISIENNE WALKWAYS!! After the Second Rope Powerbomb which leaves both of his opponents stacked on top of each other, he neglects to go for the cover. Instead, JLW walks across the ring and slaps Price’s hand, tagging him in! Rod Sterling: “Hey! Price is back in the match - and what great timing!”Allen Price is initially confused but JLW motions for him to get a move on, and Watkins jumps out of the ring and approaches the announce table. In the ring, Price runs across as quickly as he can, and he gets on top of Ratin! ONE… TWO… THREE!!! {result}Winners: Jean-Luc Watkins and Allen Price by pin fall at 3:36. The fans cheer loudly and Greg is shown with his head in his hands given what the result of the match now means for him and his allies. Allen Price jumps into the air and has his arm raised by the referee. JLW is shown being back at the commentary table. Kurt Harrington: “Here are your winners, Allen Price and Jean-Luc Watkins!”Rod Sterling: “Victory for Fallout! Allen Price gets the victory here tonight for his team, meaning that you’re free of these guys, J-L!”Jean-Luc Watkins: “Well, commiserations to you, Rod, but well, I thought I might as well give Price the spotlight. I haven’t gotten much out of that. Let him have his fun.”Rod Sterling: “Allen Price looks like the king of the world, and probably feels like it too. Well, Anzu and I will look forward to entertaining Ratin, Steve, Greg and whoever this ‘Higher Power’ is… more to come, probably.”As Allen Price continues to celebrate, the losers are shown to be upset by their defeat and Greg helps both Ratin and Steve back up to their feet. Blender advert. {ANIMALS || NICKELBACK}[MEDIA=youtube]DLYwwtPA49w[/MEDIA] ‘Animals’ by Nickleback begins to blast as the crowd immediately begin to boo. The reigning North American Champion- Big Bryan Baxter- emerges from behind the curtain- alone- with the North American title raised high in the air. The big man takes his sweet time heading down the entrance way, soaking in the jeers from the raucous Chicago crowd. Baxter slides into the ring and lets out an animalistic roar while holding his title high above his head! The reigning North American Champion along with the anxious crowd wait in anticipation for the mystery opponent… But before we get a sight of who this mystery opponent is, a group of perhaps a dozen dancers - all dressed in fine suits or fancy cocktail dresses - walk out onto the stage, which is still shrouded in darkness. We can just about make out the outlines of these figures, and of a small orchestra that has appeared on the left hand side of the stage. Shortly after, we notice a choir of about the same size on the other flank. Whilst the singers remain silent, the orchestra begins to play - but the music is off-tempo and discordant. Still, the dancers begin their dance, and as they are slowly (and only partially) illuminated by a host of candles around the stage, we realise that all is not as it seemed with this group. Their clothing, which in the cover of darkness seemed immaculately pristine, are actually in tatters, and their faces are scarred, bruised, bloody… on some of them, in some areas, their flesh is tearing off the bones. But still, they appear almost elegant as they move through their dance, the orchestra building, until, to accompany them… {ARMY OF THE NIGHT || POWERWOLF}[MEDIA=youtube]C4fExl8RiwA[/MEDIA] 'Army of the Night' begins to play as THE ROOF BLOWS OFF the United Center! The orchestra embellish the metal back-in track, the choir joining in for the vocals, as KONCHU HAO emerges from behind the curtain! The dancers clear a path as ‘the Mad Wizard’ marches through them. Baxter looks on from inside the ring, knowing he is going up against one of the more heralded members of the FWA roster, and will be doing so ALONE tonight! Emerging behind Konchu, right at his heels, is his trusted confidant EPSILON! The duo walk with a purpose down to the ring, ready to kick things off! Kurt Harrington: "The next contest is scheduled for one fall with a sixty minute time limit for the NORTH AMERICAN CHAMPIONSHIP! First, the challenger…weighing in at 215 pounds…THE MAD WIZARD…KONCHU HAOOOO!"The crowd is still amped up from the surprise mystery of Konchu Hao and give 'The Mad Wizard' a thunderous ovation. Kurt Harrington: "And, to my left….hailing from Hickory, North Carolina…weighing in at 312 pounds…he is the North American Champion…BIG BRYAN BAXTERRR!"The crowd boos at Baxter who holds his title up high while walking right up to Konchu Hao! The referee separates the two as he takes the title from Baxter. The referee holds the prestigious North American title high in the air for the world to see… The reigning North American Champion wastes no time once the bell rings, delivering a huge knee to the sternum of Konchu! Baxter follows it up with another big knee, followed by a toss into the corner! Baxter runs full speed ahead but at the last minute Konchu gets up an elbow that connects with the big man in the side of the head. Konchu then spins underneath, taking out Baxter with a legsweep which knocks the big man to the mat!
Allen Price: "Konchu knows what he has to do in order to win this match-cut the big man down like a redwood tree!"
Baxter slides to the outside, slamming the mat in frustration. 'The Mad Wizard' isn’t here to play games tonight and once Baxter looks up…
KONCHU DARTS THROUGH THE MIDDLE ROPE LIKE A HEAT-SEEKING MISSILE ONTO BAXTER!
Baxter falls back into the guard rail, jamming his back right up against the steel! Konchu continues his assault with rights, lefts, chops and elbows until Baxter is able to successfully cover up. Konchu goes for a big right hand but Baxter blocks it and connects with a HEADBUTT! The force of the big man’s head crashing into Konchu’s face is enough to knock " [/b][/color]The Mad Wizard"[/b][/color] back onto the ringside floor. Baxter slides into the ring and then back out to avoid the countout. Baxter then stomps on Konchu’s hand and twists, bringing all of his weight onto the powerful right hand of Konchu! Rod Sterling: "Big Bryan Baxter with a very successful strategy right now. Putting all of his 300 plus pounds right on top of one of Konchu Hao’s most important assets- his hand!" Baxter finally releases and taunts Epsilon who cheers on his main man Konchu from a distance. Baxter slides Konchu back into the ring and follows suit. Baxter hits a few more lethal stomps on the right hand of Konchu for good measure before playing into the crowd, who tell Baxter just how they feel. Baxter lifts Konchu up to his feet and goes to toss him off the ropes but Konchu attempts a reversal, but Baxter doesn’t budge. Instead of playing tug of war with the 300 plus-pounder, Konchu rears back and delivers a SAVATE KICK right to the chin of Baxter! Baxter staggers back, but is still on his feet. Konchu darts off the ropes…LEAPING LARIAT! The move knocks Baxter down to one knee…bicycle kick right to the nose of Baxter! The big man is finally down as Konchu goes for the first pinfall of the match… 1...2….NO!! Baxter kicks out! Konchu stays on the offensive with swift kicks to the side of Baxter. Konchu then lifts Baxter to his knees before delivering crushing knee strikes to the head of the North American Champion! Baxter seemingly becomes enraged with each kick and catches Konchu’s last kick. Baxter shows off his brute strength as he muscles Konchu up in the Powerbomb position… RUNNING POWERBOMB INTO THE TURNBUCKLES!! Baxter waits for 'The Mad Wizard' to fall in the corner as he races full speed ahead… AND DELIVERS A RUNNING KNEE RIGHT INTO THE FACE OF THE FALLEN KONCHU HAO! Baxter signals for the end as he walks around the ring, zeroing in on his opponent. Jean-Luc Watkins: "Big Bryan Baxter showing everyone that he doesn’t need any help after all! He can take care of business all by himself!"Baxter waits for the beaten-up Konchu Hao to use the ropes to get to his feet. Baxter runs full speed ahead and goes for the DISCUSS LARIAT… BUT KONCHU DUCKS… INVERTED DDT FROM KONCHU!!! Konchu hooks the leg!! 1…2…NO!! Konchu can’t put the big man away quite yet! Konchu knows he is within striking distance as Baxter slowly gets to one knee…Konchu races behind Baxter… AND LOCKS IN THE BLACK LOCUST BITE!!!! Baxter is stuck in the middle of the ring with nowhere to go!! Konchu tries his hardest to get his legs around in a body scissors position but Baxter is just too big. Nevertheless, 'The Mad Wizard' has his submission finisher locked in tightly and Baxter is slowly fading in and out of consciousness. Baxter slowly begins his best to loosen the grip of Konchu while simultaneously attempting to get to one knee to relieve the pressure of the move. Baxter is successful and grabs a hold of Konchu… Baxter uses his brute strength to lift Konchu up and over his shoulder! Baxter runs forward but Konchu slips out behind. Konchu quickly grabs a hold of Baxter from behind… RASPUTIN’S REVENGE!!! Konchu with the cover!! 1…..2….NOO!! Baxter is able to kick out of one of the most devastating finishers in FWA! Both men are down. Both men are exhausted. Escaping the Black Locust Bite and then taking a Rasputin’s Revenge from 'The Mad Wizard' took a lot out of Baxter, and just staying in the ring with the punishing North American Champion has exhausted Konchu Hao! Epsilon slams on the mat from ringside as the crowd as Konchu slowly gets to his feet. Baxter is also slowly getting to his feet. Baxter rears back and delivers a vicious Open Hand Chop to the chest of Konchu. Konchu responds with a ridiculously loud chop of his own! Baxter with another chop…Konchu with another chop…The chops grow louder and quicker from each man until they are face to face chopping the ever-living shit out of each other! The crowd eats it up as the two men chop at each other’s chest with such force you could feel it in your living room! Baxter falls back, bent over after one last vicious chop from Konchu… DISCUSS LARIAT!!! Baxter didn’t miss this time, and nearly takes Konchu’s head off! Baxter wastes no time lifting the motionless Konchu up… BAXTER DRIVER!!! It’s all elementary from here… 1…2……NOOOO!! At 2.999 Konchu gets his shoulder up! Whether it was just muscle memory or reflex, somehow, some way, Konchu Hao kicks out! Baxter is infuriated and doesn’t know what else to do. He drags the motionless Konchu over towards the turnbuckles and lifts him up onto the top buckle. Baxter, not known for being a high flying climbs up with Konchu and in another show of the strength of Baxter, he lifts Konchu up in a Vertical Suplex position…. AVALANCHE BAXTER DRIVER!!! Baxter hooks both legs for good measure… 1…2…3!!! {result}Winner: Bryan Baxter by pinfall at 15:05 Kurt Harrington: ”Here is your winner… and STILL the FWA North American Champion… BRYAN BAXTER!!”Baxter is slow to get to his feet after the exertions of the match, and allows the official to lift his hand in victory before promptly snatching it away. Konchu, meanwhile, rolls out of the ring following the devastating avalanche finisher, where Epsilon meets him on the outside to check on and console his master. Jean-Luc Watkins: ”An incredible fight put up by Konchu Hao, our mystery opponent here at the Grand March... but it’s Bryan Baxter who marches on…”Rod Sterling: ”Towards both the Carnal Contendership and Back in Business. Baxter’s opponent for the grandest stage of them all will no doubt soon reveal themselves, but Baxter may be one to watch in that battle royale…”Baxter celebrates on the second rope with his championship belt as we cut to the commentary booth, Jean-Luc, Rod, and Allen sitting behind it with smiles on their faces… Rod Sterling: ”After our first of three championship matches of the evening, it’s time to switch pace to a team making their debut as a tandem here in the FWA: Aka Manto.”Jean-Luc Watkins: ”Indeed, our audiences will already be well aware of one of these competitors in Aka Yurei, who is a former FWA World Tag Team Champion, but they may be less… Hirabayashi… … … prepares to … … for the… … time….”As JLW struggles to speak, the picture keeps loosing its clarity, at times shifting to black and white static, at others to distorted images of the commentators, and occasionally to different pictures all together. Then, we cut away form the commentators completely… [MEDIA=streamable]kq9i1x[/MEDIA] … … Suddenly, we are back to the commentators, who are conversing hurriedly whilst adjusting their notes… Rod Sterling: “Um, it appears that we experienced some technical difficulties there… I think we’re back with you, and apologise for the interruption! Now… how about that match?!”{KNOCK OUT || GD & TOP}[MEDIA=youtube]nlI4mcHnG_U[/MEDIA] The duo of MIDNIGHT Mustang and SUNRISE Stallion, known as PONI BOI, make their way out to a solid positive ovation from the sold out crowd in The United Center. MIDNIGHT and SUNRISE rush down to the ring and pose for the fans once they’re inside. Kurt Harrington: ”The following contest is set for one fall with a twenty-minute-time-limit! Introducing first, from Seoul, South Korea and weighing in at a combined weight of 271 lb…MIDNIGHT Mustang…SUNRISE Stallion…PONI BOI!”Jean-Luc Watkins: ”It’s not often we get to see PONI BOI in action but they’ve been presented with a big opportunity to showcase their abilities tonight in front of a large, sold out audience!”{QUAKE THEME || TRENT REZNOR}[MEDIA=youtube]eeNrRHty-Lo[/MEDIA] There's a mood shift as the unfamiliar theme plays but fans are not unfamiliar with who this music is accompanying. It’s the return of Aka Yurei and she’s brought a new face to the FWA audience with her, Keiko Hirabayashi. Their theme song and blinking lights that come on and off at each beat would give off the sensation of watching something in slow-motion, or a strobe effect to best put it. Kurt Harrington: ”Their opponents, first from Seattle, Washington and weighing in at 127 lb…she is The Crimson Ghost…Aka Yurei! Introducing next, from Nara, Nara Prefecture, Japan and weighing 119 lb…she is The Mistress in Blue…Keiko Hirabayashi! Together they are known as…Aka Manto!”Aka Yurei is in red attire while Keiko is in blue and Aka chooses to slide underneath the bottom rope to enter the ring, while Keiko opts to enter normally as their opposition seem a bit taken aback by the antics on display. Jean-Luc Watkins: ”Aka Yurei is making her long awaited return to FWA after being out a number of months after being driven face first through a cinder block courtesy of Jeffry Mason and TYLER. Aka hasn’t come alone though, she’s brought an old friend in Keiko Hirabayashi.”Rod Sterling: ”I’ve done some research and this isn’t the first time Yurei and Hirabayashi have teamed up, but this will be the first time they’ve teamed stateside. They were a deadly force in Japan before they had a falling out and Aka made her way here to the US. It seems they’ve reconciled and Keiko will bring her talents to FWA along with Aka.”Aka removes her mask and she opts to start for her team while SUNRISE will start for PONI BOI….[/CENTER][/font] DING DING DING!The two competitors circle each other and Aka gives off creepy vibes in an attempt to throw off SUNRISE, but the young man does his best to not show fear. SUNRISE suddenly bolts at Aka but Aka avoids danger with a leapfrog, and Aka then catches SUNRISE with an arm drag! SUNRISE pops up to his feet but he gets a roundhouse kick to the face for his troubles! The kick knocks him back and Aka sends him toward the ropes again and she strikes with a jumping hip attack! Aka tosses SUNRISE in her team’s corner and she connects with another hip attack before tagging in Keiko. Keiko and Aka keep SUNRISE in the corner and they unload on him with a barrage of kicks and stomps until the referee forces a break. Keiko drags SUNRISE from the corner and she hits a snap suplex on him! SUNRISE sits up but Keiko nails him in the lower back with a kick! Then Keiko takes him down with a headscissor submission and she uses her leg strength to bounce his head off the mat a few times before she releases the hold… Allen Price: ”SUNRISE is in dire need of a tag to MIDNIGHT! Keiko held nothing back with that headscissors…”Keiko takes SUNRISE by the legs but SUNRISE kicks her away and he uses this opportunity to quickly scatter to his corner to tag in MIDNIGHT. MIDNIGHT charges in at Keiko but she ducks underneath him and she strikes with a drop toe hold! She climbs the Bret’s rope and hits an elbow drop for the pin… One…two…NO! Keiko tags in Aka and the two women set up MIDNIGHT in position before hitting a double team suplex on him! MIDNIGHT in trouble now as he tries to reach out to tag in SUNRISE but Aka bumps SUNRISE off the apron and he takes a spill to the outside! MIDNIGHT charges at Aka but she moves out of the way and MIDNIGHT crashes sternum first in the corner! Aka drags him away from the corner and strikes with a tiger suplex! Aka lies in wait as MIDNIGHT stumbles to his feet…VENGEFUL STRIKE! POISONED FRANKENSTEINER FROM AKA! Aka tags Keiko and Keiko climbs up top…GRACEFUL CHARITY! DIVING ELBOW DROP TO MIDNIGHT! Keiko hooks the leg and Aka with a baseball slide kick to SUNRISE that prevents him from making the save… One…two…THREE! {result}Winner: Aka Manto by pinfall at 5:18. Kurt Harrington: ”The winners of the match…Aka Yurei and Keiko Hirabayashi…Aka Manto!”Jean-Luc Watkins: ”An impressive debut for Aka Manto and unfortunate for PONI BOI that couldn’t get going.”Rod Sterling: ”Aka Manto will be a force to be reckoned with in the tag team division. A decisive victory tonight will have the rest of the division put on notice.”Keiko and Aka have their arms raised in victory and they relish their win as they exit the ring while SUNRISE has joined his partner in the ring and he tends to him as the show fades out to an advert for the WCNetwork. {Vampire || Versailles}[MEDIA=youtube]tQO5x8HCdD4[/MEDIA] Interrupting the dead space between matches, a theme music that has not been played in FWA since Back in Town plays, drawing a positive response from the FWA fans. After being in her native Japan over the past month and a half to recharge and wrestle elsewhere, Vampyra is here to address the fans. The lights of the arena have a light purple glow as we see Vampyra make her way out. She is a touch dressed up, wearing a black dress which goes down to her knees and black boots. Putting her elbows to her side and having her arms out, she poses before doing a small throat slash with her finger, but after a little time away, you can tell she is emotional. Allen Price: “And welcome back, Vampyra! The former FWA Television Champion, after her sabbatical, is back on American soil and the Chicago crowd are giving her a warm welcome!”
Rod Sterling: “To say her first several months were unique is an understatement. We have had people rise to champion status early, but few new signees, especially so young, get thrown into the fire that quickly and she’s had some set-backs, but she continually raised her game each step.”Heading down the rampway, Vampyra isn’t rushing, maybe showing some unease after being away from FWA crowds for a respectable time, long enough where her physical presence was missing. But, weeks of reflecting and soul searching for the young rising star, what is going through her mind? Allen Price: “The real question which I have is her mental state? In the ring, she’s a calm force, but she’s young, she’s got a lot on her plate, and she made it clear she’s not pursuing the FWA Television Championship despite not even being pinned to lose it. I'm sorry, what!?”Rod Sterling: “It’s a strange choice, especially given the expected collision course for the title. If I was in her position, I’d be gunning for a rematch as soon as possible, BUT few can argue against the fact she may be destined for more if she continues where she left off. In fact, if she did not go home, I’d imagine she would have been in a prominent place on the card tonight, or a favourite in the King of the Deathmatch.”Going up the steps, the Dark Huntress takes her time before stepping into the ring under the middle rope. A ringside attendee reaches between the ropes to hand her a microphone which she accepts. Her theme music fades. And she doesn’t talk right away. Vampyra looks around at the The Grand March crowd. There are cheers and they have been growing for the past while, but this time it seems a little bit different. Absence makes the heart grow fonder as they say, even if it is just about two months. But, there are no mixed reactions. The young Joshi star, after a turbulent start to her American career, has begun to break down some barriers and is starting to connect with the US fans. Then, a chant. “Welcome back! Welcome back!”A smile appears on her face. She takes a deep breath in as the chants die down enough for her to speak. Vampyra: “Arigatō… Thank you.” She politely thanks the crowd, doing a small nod as several of them cheer and clap. Vampyra: “Forgive me if I make mistakes, I am not quite used to speaking in front of an audience in this way in front of such a large crowd, especially in my second language. I have run through my head what I would say for weeks now, but I feel as though I would be better served to be open.”Taking a few moments, Vampyra tries to search for where to begin and likely translates it back to herself to make sure she does her message justice in English. So, she goes with the most important thing. The beginning. Vampyra: “When I went to FWA and America I had this idea of how I would present myself. Who Vampyra is, but deep down I was not quite as prepared as I thought I would be. I was not sure how you, the fans, would treat me. Am I your hero? Am I despised? What place would this young lady from Japan find herself in? And this environment, a loud and vocal crowd, let alone one of the loudest, was foreign to me.”Stepping forward, Vampyra further explains. Vampyra: “While much of the world has been eager to escape the effects of the pandemic, for Japan we have moved much slower. We are a country that values your duty to another and one which is densely populated. At times it is frustrating, but we make sacrifices. I suppose you could say I am used to wearing a mask.”
She has a wink, and a couple fans give a chuckle. Vampyra: “But if there was one thing that always was heart wrenching was the limits that fans could do. Fans were not allowed to shout or cheer during shows, only clap. As a wrestler, we feed on the energy of a crowd, whether to fuel our hate, or fill our hearts with a fighting spirit. But, that was missing. It has been that way for three years. Even when fans were allowed to make noise…”Rubbing her neck, Vampyra feels uncomfortable. Vampyra: “I was not winning any popularity awards because of people I was associated with at the time. I never had the fans cheer for me. FWA was different. I was not used to the environment, the characters, personalities, or travel. I went from Japan and a place where your unit, or a stable, was a key part of your identity to being alone again for the first time since I started my career. I went from a place where a stable or unit would stay together for years with it taking something major like a stipulation or a complete breakdown of trust for a unit to leave… To America where stables are mostly temporary and if one stays together for a long time it wears thin on some people. The only blessing was that I knew there were people who wanted me to succeed, even if it was hard to focus on it.”The normally loud Chicago crowd is somewhat silent. Though not out of disrespect, but listening. For the first time, Vampyra is showing her vulnerabilities to a live audience. Raising her voice, Vampyra follows it up. Vampyra: “And despite every hurdle, everything weighing me down, what I could do in the ring shined through! My passion, my desire to be a wrestler and push myself to be better!”Vampyra points to her mask. Vampyra: “If it was not for this mask, I would not have wrestled in the first place. It takes so much to even enter wrestling, especially where I am from. Many start young like me, but with how rough it is on their bodies and mentally, by 26 plenty retire. But not me, I will not. That is what you should expect from me. And yet, all that only got me so far. I rushed in and ascended fast only to run into a concrete ceiling. I needed to take a step back.”Stepping forward, the masked wrestler leaps on the ropes towards the hard camera. Vampyra: “That decision is not, nor will ever be a sign of weakness. It should be a strength. It takes self-control to know when you need to take a moment to look back and reflect to BE better. Remember that. I needed to go home. I needed to wrestle elsewhere for a moment and change scenery. Being home revitalized me because I got to see everyone I have touched and who inspire me and-.” Looking down, we can see a small grin on Vampyra’s face. Vampyra: “For the first time, I got to hear my hometown fans cheer for me. For the first time I heard them shout my name. It is something I will never forget and I hope one day I may come there with FWA.”The fans clap, happy for her to have a moment like that. Her eyes moving towards the camera, Vampyra steps back towards the middle of the ring. She is still a bit uneasy, emotional. Vampyra: “I remembered why I went into wrestling over any other path in life. It was something I forgot about long ago. I shall not forget it this time as I return to FWA. I returned after having a taste of FWA. A taste of America. I still have a lot to learn, but I’m better prepared. This is a chance for a reset in FWA and I know what I want from here-”Voice trailing off, Vampyra looks around. Her voice is calm as she proclaims- Vampyra: “I want to belong. I am not a fake. I am not a liar. It is no fluke I have gone this far in my career. I am not a new toy or an international attraction. I… I KNOW I have what it takes to compete with the best in FWA even with what hangs over my head.”
Allen Price: “Hangs over her head?” The commentator notices the unique word choice from the young wrestler. Holding her hand up, Vampyra holds two fingers up. Vampyra: “Two curses are cast on me. Not one of magic but inside. One that at times makes even waking up a challenge. An overwhelming feeling of distress, fear of failure and doubt. To those who share it with me, your struggles are not in vain. Sadly, that is one which will likely hang over me for years to come. But I am aware of it. I know it, and that is already a start. The other…”She stops herself. Taking a breath in, she looks down at the mat, some nerves return. But she powers through them, looking up at the crowd. Vampyra: “I will cleanse myself very soon of it…” A small confident smirk appears on her face. Vampyra: “The next time you will see me will be Carnal Contendership. It should be no surprise that I will be in it. Thirty competitors fighting for a chance to compete for the FWA World Championship at Back in Business. The last time I was in a Battle Royale, I was in it for the sake of it then I made a costly error, one I learned from. This time, I have a greater reason. That is to move forward, to make sure that there is not a single doubt that I not just belong in FWA, but that every opportunity I have received before and after will have been earned!”There are some cheers from the crowd. Vampyra, in her in person return to FWA, has opened up to the fans, and has made her intentions clear, Carnal Contendership. Looking dead into the camera, she says one final line… Vampyra: “Carnal Contendership… is my new beginning.”Before dropping the microphone in the ring. Her theme music begins to play again as she stands in the ring, confident smirk. Putting down MAYHEM’s “M” hand gesture, she slides out of the ring.
Allen Price: “A lot of emotion from Vampyra with a heart-filled announcement for Carnal Contendership. As we are turning the corner towards Back in Business, she is looking to make a splash, show her place in FWA.”
Rod Sterling: “I think some members of the FWA fans might have a greater appreciation for her. I can imagine how much of a leap it was for her to go from her environment to here. But, mentally, I think she’s prepared for Carnal Contendership.”Allen Price: “What are her odds?”Rod Sterling: “It’s going to be a deep pool. It always is. But a motivated Vampyra, I think she might be a dark horse pick. She is willing to rise to the occasion whenever she's faced with a new challenge. Regardless, I think she’s got the potential for a memorable performance.”Vampyra heads to the stage and stands in front of the curtains. Then, she does something curious. She loosens her mask. Bowing her head down… and takes it off. The fans gasp as she keeps her head turned away, keeping her face hidden. She drops her mask on the stage and heads through the curtains, keeping her face covered. Rod Sterling: “W-What did I just see? Did Vampyra remove her mask and drop it?”
Allen Price: “I have no idea why, but removing a mask is something which is a drastic move for a masked wrestler, especially one who respects the traditions related to it like her. What’s going on?”The fans are left confused as the camera zooms in on the mask as we cut to a brief break Jean-Luc Watkins: ”The show moves on, wrestling fans and coming up next is a match that will see the FWA TV Championship but it’s become much more personal, and more than just about the championship. Shawn Summers is coming off one defense over Joe Burr and he’ll be looking to extend his success in defense but he’ll have to contend with a motivated and fired up Cowboy, Tommy Bedlam.”Rod Sterling: ”Bedlam has had a string of bad luck in recent weeks and he hasn’t been able to find the same success he had when he returned. Bedlam took Summers up on the open challenge, and since then it’s become personal with Summers attacking the Cowboy with a chair and even going as far as shoving the Cowboy’s pregnant girlfriend, Randi.”Allen Price: ”It’s no surprise that Summers has made this personal, he seems to thrive off that type of thing. It can’t just be about a title with him; he has to go the extra length to make his opponent’s life a living hell.”{WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE || BON JOVI}[MEDIA=youtube]8SiS9ZWaCLY[/MEDIA] The lights dim and the familiar tune echoes throughout the United Center and after Bon Jovi’s opening lyrics hit, the Cowboy steps out on stage to a loud, positive ovation. Bedlam’s girlfriend, Randi Francis is at his side and she claps for him while the crowd sings along to the popular song that accompanies Bedlam to the ring. Jean-Luc Watkins: ”Tommy Bedlam faces quite possibly one of his toughest tests to date since his arrival in FWA. Tommy has dealt with some tough opponents in his time, but I don’t believe he’s dealt with someone like Shawn Summers.”Allen Price: ”I’m sure he’s aware of that, Jean-Luc. He knows what’s at stake and he knows how personal Summers has made this. He wants that TV title, but there’s no doubt that he wants to even the score and make Summers hurt for his actions as of late.”Rod Sterling: ”That’s all well and fine, but he can’t let all of the personal stuff get in the way of the ultimate goal and that’s the TV title. I get he’s upset and he wants to rip off Summers’ head, but at the same time, Summers wants Bedlam fired up like this. It’s all mind games by Summers, and Bedlam isn’t careful he could fall right into that trap.”Bedlam shares a kiss with the lovely Randi and then trots up the steel steps and enters the ring. Randi stays at ringside and she continues to clap and cheer for her man, and she gets the crowd to cheer along with her while they sing along with Bon Jovi and Tommy paces around the ring as he removes his vest. Soon though, karaoke time for the fans comes to an end as the song fades out and the crowd begins to boo because of what is coming next… {COLA || LANA DEL REY}[MEDIA=youtube]lBakG7KtVZE[/MEDIA] Shawn slowly rises through the stage with his head down and eyes closed. The lights strobe between white and red to the drums of the song as fog rises underneath him and we see the TV Title wrapped around his waist. Shawn tilts his head up, his face void of emotion as the camera pans around him. He stands in place taking in the moment until the chorus of "Cola" kicks in. He begins to make his way down the ramp mouthing the words to the song, ignoring the hands and verbal assault from the fans as he does. Halfway down the ramp, he takes a visual survey of the arena before slowly walking up the ring steps and slowly ascending the turnbuckle. His eyes closed, his head tilted high - he's fully taking in the moment before hopping down into the ring and he unlatches the title from his waist and holds it up high and taunts Bedlam with it. Shawn makes his way to his corner and crouches down as he awaits the announcements. Kurt Harrington: ”The following contest is scheduled for one fall with a thirty-minute-time-limit, and it is for the FWA TV Championship! Introducing first, the challenger, he is accompanied by Randi Francis and he hails from Sweetwater, Texas and weighs in at 244 lb…he is The Cowboy…Tommy Bedlam!”More loud cheers for The Cowboy, who is the clear fan favorite for this match. Randi continues to clap and cheer for Tommy along with the crowd, while Tommy keeps his gaze firmly set on the man across from him. Kurt Harrington: ”And his opponent, from Laguna Beach, California and weighing in at 225 lb…he is the current reigning and defending FWA TV Champion…Der Basterd…Shawn Summers!”The booing from the fans rains down on Summers and he rises up from his seated position and opens his eyes. Summers remains stoic and unphased by the negativity. He takes one last look at his title before handing it off to referee Matthew Dean, and Dean shows it to Bedlam and then holds it aloft before handing it off to the ringside area and Dean calls for the bell. DING! DING! DING!The bell has rung and Tommy Bedlam explodes out of his corner and pummels Summers in his corner! Bedlam is laying into Summers with explosive lefts and rights to Summers, and Bedlam then tosses Summers across the ring like a shot put ball! Summers takes a hard landing and he’s in the opposite corner, and Summers holds his hands up but Bedlam doesn’t care and he hits a corner clothesline on Summers! Bedlam unloads on Summers with a barrage of corner stomps until Summers is slumped down in a prone position. Bedlam pulls Summers up and into his waiting arms and Bedlam hits Summers with a belly-to-belly suplex! Summers winces upon hitting the canvas, and he’s on his knees now and he’s pleading with Bedlam to reconsider but Bedlam is having none of it as he drives his boot straight into Summers’ chest! Bedlam drags Summers up to his feet with a front facelock and he whips Summers toward the opposite rope, and Bedlam catches Summers in a powerslam position but before he can drop him, Summers fights out of it with rapid fire elbows to the back of Bedlam’s head that force Bedlam to let go and Summers drops down. Summers unleashes a flurry of well placed punches that has Bedlam reeling on the ropes. Summers is relentless with his strikes and he has Bedlam on the ropes, literally, and he sends Bedlam off into the opposite side but Bedlam ducks underneath a clothesline and Bedlam hits the other ropes and comes back with a shoulder tackle that takes Summers down! Summers pops back up though and he charges at Bedlam, but Bedlam is ready and catches Summers with a ring rattling spinebuster! Bedlam quickly hooks the leg… One…TWO-NO! Jean-Luc Watkins: ”Summers had some brief momentum, but it quickly swung back in Tommy Bedlam’s favor.”Allen Price: ”Yeah, so far this has been all Tommy Bedlam. If he can keep it up we may see a new champion crowned tonight.”Rod Sterling: ”Let’s not get hasty now, Price. Don’t count your chickens before they’re hatched.”Summers tries to roll away to the ring apron for a reprieve, but Bedlam will not let up and he will not let Summers off the hook that easily. Bedlam drags Summers up by the head and as they’re face to face, Summers clocks Bedlam with a stiff headbutt! Summers locks in position to where they’re still face to face and Summers unloads with repeated headbutts, and Bedlam is in a daze. Summers has him set up still and Summers sends Bedlam halfway across the ring with an overhead belly-to-belly suplex! Rod Sterling: ”Wipe Out! Summers hits Bedlam with the Wipe Out and just like that Summers turns the tide!”Summers pounces on top of the downed Bedlam and he lays into Bedlam with a barrage of mounted punches and elbow strikes incorporated throughout… Jean-Luc Watkins: ”Summers with the Blitzkrieg on Bedlam now and Summers is not holding back with those punches!”Referee Matthew Dean forces Summers off of Bedlam, and Summers adheres the official’s warning and he removes himself from the situation. Dean checks on Bedlam and with his back turned to Summers, Shawn uses this opportunity to unstrap the protective padding from one of the turnbuckles much to the dismay of the fans. Summers goes back to Bedlam and he takes Tommy by the legs, and flips him upward and Bedlam is sent face first into the exposed steel! Allen Price: ”Summers bends the rules and now Bedlam is busted open!”Bedlam is slumped face first in the corner and the blood begins to pour from his head. Summers sneaks up behind Bedlam, and he locks in a rear waist lock…bridging german suplex! One…TWO-NO! Bedlam kicks out but that doesn’t stop Summers from continuing his onslaught of punishment. He drags Bedlam to the corner and Bedlam is slumped in a prone position with blood still pouring from his head, and Summers charges at Bedlam and strikes with the Bees Knees! Summers starts to lay into Bedlam with vicious stomps, specifically targeting Bedlam’s head with each stomp and Summers responds to booing from the crowd… ”This is your hero, huh?! This is the man you cheer for?! If you only knew the truth about this man, he’s no hero!”Summers then places Tommy’s head back on the bottom turnbuckle and he starts to choke out Bedlam with his boot placed firmly on Tommy’s throat. Randi is nearby at ringside and she’s watching on with great concern and she’s doing everything she can to will Tommy on. Summers takes notice of Randi nearby and he has some words for her… ”This is the father of your child, huh?! This is the kind of man you want raising your child?! You’re just as bad as he is!”Randi does her best to ignore Summers and Summers is backed off by the official. Summers curses at the official, and Summers starts to argue with Dean. Allen Price: ”Summers is risking disqualification here but I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s intentional on his part knowing him!”Summers brushes past Dean and goes back to Bedlam and he drags Bedlam up, but Tommy finds a second wind and counters by sending Shawn’s head bouncing off the turnbuckle! Tommy unloads with clubbing blows to Summers’ back as Shawn is trapped in the corner before Tommy drags him out and hits a picture perfect saito suplex! Tommy wipes some blood out of his eyes and turns his focus back on Summers. Tommy brings Summers in position and lifts him up and sends him crashing down with a sitout powerbomb into a jackknife cover… One…two…NO! Summers kicks out and he rolls through while Tommy is sizing him up and Summers staggers back to a vertical base…The Buckshot! Tommy gets all of that superkick but before he can get the pin, Shawn wisely rolls to the ring apron, much to the dismay of the fans because they knew Tommy could’ve gotten the win right then and there with his superkick. Tommy makes his way over and he starts to pull Shawn up by the hair, but Shawn counters and drops Tommy's neck first across the first rope and Tommy falls down in an instant. Tommy is clutching at his neck and gasping for air while Summers revels in his handy work while the crowd boos him. Summers notices Randi nearby again and he hops off the apron and he starts to stalk her. Randi is slowly backing away in terror… ”Do you see what I’m doing to your baby daddy in there, huh?! After I’m finished with him he won’t even be able to care for you or that little brat!”Bedlam has come to and he sees Summers getting near Randi, and Bedlam looks absolutely overcome with rage and with good reason! Bedlam slides out of the ring and he spins Summers around and clocks him with a right hand! Bedlam takes Summers by the head and he bounces Shawn’s head off the ring apron several times! Tommy then holds Shawn in place and tells Randi to let him have it, and Randi slaps Summers across the face to the delight of the fans! Bedlam then sends Summers face first into the steel steps! Jean-Luc Watkins: ”Randi with a measure of revenge with that slap and Summers is sent face first into that steel!”Allen Price: ”Summers’ detestable actions came back to bite him and now he’s bleeding!”Bedlam tosses a bloody Shawn Summers back inside the ring and Summers is crawling on all fours now after he’s back in the ring. Bedlam stalks his prey and as Summers is up, Bedlam strikes him down with a discus lariat! Bedlam is quick on the attack and he applies a Boston crab submission! Bedlam cranks back on the hold and Summers is howling in pain as he tries to reach for the bottom rope… Summers is refusing to give up and he’s fighting through the pain as much as he can. Summers manages to twist out of it and with his boots he shoves Tommy away. Summers scrambles back to a vertical base and Tommy turns around right into a headbutt from Summers! Summers doubles Bedlam over with a kick to the gut and sets him…sitout double underhook powerbomb into a pin! One…two….THREE-NO! Summers attempts to go for his patented figure four leg lock, but Bedlam kicks him away before he can apply it. This time it’s Tommy scrambling up to his feet and he catches a charging Summers with a falling powerslam! Tommy is feeling it now and he’s calling for it. He goes to lift Summers up for The Rough Ride, but Summers slips out behind and he drills Tommy with a forearm to the back of the head! Summers then hits the ropes…Lights Out! Springboard knee strike to Bedlam! Summers drapes his arm over Bedlam… One…two…THREE-NO! Bedlam stays alive and Summers can’t believe it. Summers is starting to grow irate now and he slides out of the ring and he grabs the TV title from the ringside attendant while in the ring Bedlam is tended to by the referee. Summers re-enters the ring and the referee sees Summers with the belt, and he tries to stop him but Summers charges past him and he clocks Bedlam right across the head with the title! The referee immediately calls for the bell! {result}Winner: Disqualification at 22:57. Kurt Harrington: ”The winner as a result of a disqualification is Tommy Bedlam, but STILL the FWA TV Champion, Shawn Summers!”Allen Price: ”Of all the low down dirty things to do! Summers couldn’t put Bedlam away so he took the easy way out!”Rod Sterling: ”You said it yourself earlier Price that you wouldn’t be surprised if Summers would purposely get himself disqualified, so don’t act surprised that it actually happened!”Jean-Luc Watkins: ”Sterling is right, Price, but you are as well. Summers did take the easy way out and he’s not done yet by the looks of it!”Summers continues to assault Bedlam after the match has been called and more referees and other personnel arrive on the scene to break it up. Summers is eventually pried away from Bedlam and he’s held back as Randi enters the ring to check on Tommy. Randi then looks up at Shawn and stares scornfully at him. Summers looks emotionless as he stares at Randi and the fallen Bedlam before he exits the ring as the show fades out elsewhere… An advert for Back in Business XVII airs. Night One is planned for Saturday 15th July and Night Two for Sunday 16th July, with both shows to air in Mexico City. Each of the three competitors in the upcoming main event - Peacock, Truth, and von Horrowitz - are shown holding the FWA World Championship as part of the hype package. This is followed by an ad for the 18th Anniversary Show, scheduled for Sunday 20th August in Bridgetown, Barbados. This is advertised as a beach show, with the Golden Opportunity - to feature those placing second through seventh in the Carnal Contendership - featuring prominently. There is a sense of excitement in the United Center as the crowd knows that there is just one match remaining, and it is the main event of the night. We go to the commentary table, where Jean-Luc Watkins takes a moment to address the camera before the competitors make their entrances. Jean-Luc Watkins: “Well, wrestling fans, it is time for the main event! Chris Peacock will be defending the FWA World Championship in a Three Way Dance against two very dangerous threats in Cyrus Truth and Michele von Horrowitz.
The rules of a Three Way Dance are such that this match is two falls to a finish, with two competitors being eliminated before a winner is declared. In addition, Jon Russnow has stipulated that disqualifications can result in an elimination in this match. This ruling has been made in light of Michelle von Horrowitz’s recent actions and the likelihood of interference by Cthulhu’s Nephews.”Allen Price: “Good. The Nephews have helped Michelle von Horrowitz get this far through blatant CHEATING, and it is about time that Michelle reminds everyone how capable she is without their help. She doesn’t need to take the low road.”There is a concurrence through nodding from Watkins and Sterling after Price’s assertion about MvH’s abilities and the lights in the arena dim down. {THE SOUND OF TRUTH || AS I LAY DYING}[MEDIA=youtube]K91qwxCWmrs[/MEDIA] The lights inside the arena begin to flicker and there are uproarious cheers from the FWA fans inside the United Center as the first of the three competitors taking part in tonight’s main event makes their entrance. Cyrus Truth takes a deep and steady breath when he comes into view on the stage and the reception for him gets even louder as he does so. ‘The Exile’ begins to slowly walk down to the ring, stretching his wrists out on the way after he unzips his grey hoodie. Rod Sterling: “For so many and for so long, Cyrus Truth has been the standardbearer for excellence here in the Fantasy Wrestling Alliance, and CWA prior to that. A four-time FWA World Champion but without a reign in over three years. In that time, both of his opponents tonight have made their respective FWA debuts and won the championship three times between them. Cyrus Truth’s long and winding road back to the top of the mountain could end tonight.”Allen Price: “Tonight we get the definitive answer to the question of whether Cyrus’s time has come and gone. Can he prove to us, the FWA fans and most importantly, himself, that he is still capable of competing at the highest level in this industry. No more Gabrielle, no more Devin Golden, no more PAJ; Cyrus is the last bastion of a generation gone by.”Jean-Luc Watkins: “For so long, Cyrus has desired this opportunity; a match for the FWA World Championship. He has not gotten here in the most conventional way. It has been tough, it has been tormenting. All of that could be worth it though, if he can outlast both Chris Peacock and Michelle von Horrowitz here tonight.”Cyrus pauses at the top of the steel steps, with his hand resting on the ring post and he takes a look around at the crowd and speaks some reaffirmations to himself. The importance of this moment has not been lost on the veteran and he psyches himself up some more before entering the ring through the ropes in an emphatic manner. He moves to the middle of the ring an extends his arms to a thunderous cheer from the crowd; one of their two favourites in this match. The adoration for Cyrus and Chris Peacock only matched by their disdain for the other third of the equation… {IN DREAMS || ROY ORBISON}[MEDIA=youtube]MVRunwyoTMA[/MEDIA] Instantly, the United Center is a cacophony of boos, all for Michelle von Horrowitz. The camera focuses on the stage but no one appears, and it is only when the crowd is scanned, it becomes clear where ‘Dreamer’ is arriving from. Unsurprisingly, she is not alone, either. MvH walks down the steps from one of the openings in the crowd and the rest of Ctulhu’s Nephews file out from behind her - all are present with the exception of Thomas West, which is unsurprising given the events of the King of the Deathmatch tournament last night. MvH wears her half of the FWA World Tag Team Championships on her left shoulder, with the other in the possession of the Nephew directly behind her - Gerald Grayson. The Connection members are the only two making their way towards the ring through the crowd with any earnest, as Uncle and the others are signing as many autographs as they can. Jean-Luc Watkins: “Well, it would seem that the threat of disqualification resulting from outside interference is not enough to sway the Nephews against coming out here to support Michelle von Horrowitz as she looks to win back the title which she last won at The Grand March last year.”Rod Sterling: “Last year she had Gerald Grayson in the match too - a friendly face. There will be no such luxury for the F1 Climaxxx winner tonight as both Cyrus Truth and Chris Peacock detest Michelle and the Nephews, for good reason. Of course it was Cyrus that Michelle and the Nephews cheated in the finals of the F1 Climaxxx at Back in Town.”As Michelle reaches the barricade, she hops over it and advances towards the ring, whilst Grayson and the others hang back behind the partition. Uncle J.J. JAY! files his way to the front of the pack and makes a motion to everyone in the front row on the hard camera side, and they all rise from their seats and begin to leave! Allen Price: “Uncle bought out the front row?”Rod Sterling: “I suppose you cannot be accused of interfering if you are present as a paying fan - they’ve even got tickets! Despite this though, the mere presence of the Nephews could be enough to take Cyrus and Peacock off of their games… Chris Peacock, especially.”MvH enters the ring and holds her title by her side and looks at Cyrus with a smug grin and Larry Stevens preemptively gets in front of ‘The Exile’ just in case he cannot wait until the match to begin before going after ‘Dreamer’. As Roy Orbison fades out, there is just one more entrance left to make. {HE’S THE GREATEST DANCER || SISTER SLEDGE}[MEDIA=youtube]TDwutKpVyas[/MEDIA] Attention turns to the stage for the third time and the majority fans are on their feet and some are even throwing a few shapes down, and the FWA World Champion runs out backwards onto the stage and then stops himself in place before spinning into a Night Fever pose. Chris Peacock spins back around and pats the championship around his waist with his free hand; the other holding onto the Singapore Cane slung back over his shoulder. He steps forward and holds the cane up into the air, releasing a massive burst of white pyro from around the large screen. Peacock struts towards the ring, dressed in different gear than usual; tonight in a white and purple outfit which would not look out of place on the Las Vegas strip being worn by an Elvis impersonator or as an extra in Blades of Glory. Jean-Luc Watkins: “Peacock by name and by nature, it would seem for at least tonight, gentlemen. There’s a lot going on in the world of the Fantasy Wrestling Alliance at the moment, but the man at the helm for the moment at least is the one they call ‘Disco’s Last Warrior’ and he definitely looks the part tonight.”Allen Price: “I know for a fact that Chris Peacock has looked into himself a lot in the last few weeks and put a lot of things into perspective. He has been calling himself a champion and simply repeating a face by doing so. Tonight is his opportunity to dance the dance and prove to everyone just why he is the pinnacle of this industry right now.”Rod Sterling: “Chris Peacock was derided for so long for not being able to get the victories when it matters, but he is doing everything in his power to reverse that course of thinking. Victories in his last three Pay-Per-View appearances at Back in Business, Lights Out and Back in Town… we’re definitely looking at three big game players in this match.”Peacock walks around the right and makes a point of ignoring the Nephews in the front row sarcastically applauding him, before he gets up onto the apron and then enters the ring where he raises the championship in the air after unclipping it from around his waist. He stands in front of both Cyrus and MvH, showing off his championship in their face and then takes a spot in one of the two remaining unoccupied corners. The FWA World Champion presses his forehead against the nameplate on the title and then kisses it before handing it to Larry Stevens, clearly understanding that this could be the final time that he has the belt in his possession. Kurt Harrington steps forward and clears his throat into his microphone. Kurt Harrington: “Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is your main event of The Grand March, and it is a Three Way Dance scheduled for two falls with a sixty minute time limit… and it is for the FWA WORLD CHAMPIONSHIP!”The announcement gets a big cheer from the crowd, and the camera shifts to the concentrated and stern expression on the face of the first challenger, Cyrus Truth. Kurt Harrington: “Introducing first, the challengers. First, from The Long and Winding Road and weighing in at two-hundred and twenty-seven pounds… he is ‘The Exile’ CYYYYYYYYRRRUUUUSSSSSS TRRRUUUUUUUUUUUUUUTHHH!!!”Another loud response from the crowd for Cyrus, who glares at both Peacock and von Horrowitz in turn, and the focus then shifts to the other challenger and the crowd begin loudly booing as a result of this. Kurt Harrington: “Next, the second challenger; representing Ctulhu’s Nephews… from Rotterdam in the Netherlands and weighing in at fifty-four kilograms… she is ‘Meltdown von Horrowitz’, ‘The 1 in 9 and 1’ and one half of the FWA World Tag Team Champions… she is ‘Dreamer# MIIIIIIIIICCHHHELLLLLEE VONNNNNNN HOOOOOORRROOOOOWWWWIIITTTZZZZZZZ!!!”The crowd have whipped themselves into a “FUCK YOU DREAMER!” chant, but this is met with mild amusement from the target of the chants. Instead, MvH continues her preparations for the match. Lastly, the man who has the marbles is highlighted, and Chris Peacock jumps up and down on the spot as he waits for his introduction. Kurt Harrington: “Finally… from Boogie Wonderland by way of Brooklyn, New York City and weighing in at two-hundred and ten pounds… he is the current, reigning and defending Fantasy Wrestling Alliance World Champion, ‘Disco’s Last Warrior’ CHRISSSSSSSSSS PEEEEEAAAACCCOOOOOOOOOOCCCKKKK!!!”Peacock shoots a finger up into the air and then strums a fake guitar a few times, playing up his Elvis-like look, and grins at the positive reaction from the crowd. Kurt Harrington exits the ring to leave just the competitors and the referee, who sets about completing his final checks on all three competitors. Jean-Luc Watkins: “Well, wrestling fans, it has been a historic long weekend for the FWA and it all comes to a head right now. Who will be leaving Chicago tonight as the FWA World Champion?” As the bell rings, the crowd reaches a fever pitch and all three competitors approach the centre of the ring but none of the three make an initial move straight away. There is a clear attempt from each of them to size the other two up. There is a very obvious dislike from all parties towards one another and as a result, a decision on who to target first for each of them is difficult to make. Peacock raises a hand in the direction of MvH, considering a lock-up, but then reverts and does the same thing to Cyrus as well which also results in nothing. It is eventually Cyrus Truth that decides to get things going when he feigns a lunge for MvH, but changes course at the last second and almost caves Peacock’s chest in with a Knife-Edge Chop! This takes Peacock completely by surprise, and he stumbles backwards towards the ropes and uses the momentum from them to attempt a Clothesline on von Horrowitz, but MvH ducks under it and allows Peacock’s momentum to take him to the other ropes, where Cyrus then jumps back in and knocks the champion down with a Clothesline of his own! With Peacock momentarily down on his knees, MvH seizes control of the moment and connects with a rising European Uppercut on ‘The Exile’, which knocks him back towards the ropes. Michelle then looks to shoot Cyrus off across the ring, but Cyrus cuts her off by pivoting into a Discus Elbow! With MvH dropped down to a knee, Truth spots Peacock rushing towards him and he catches Peacock with an Arm Drag as he approaches, and is quickly in position to take MvH over with one as well once she has returned to her feet. The crowd takes a moment to applaud Truth for this. Rod Sterling: “A strong start to the match from Cyrus Truth; he will want to be the one to set the pace of this match as he knows first hand how dangerous the explosive offences of both Peacock and von Horrowitz can be if left unchecked.”Allen Price: “Doing that will be important, Rod. Competitors like Peacock and Michelle can really get away from you if you do not do anything about them early.”What is not noticed or appreciated by ‘The Exile’ is that Chris Peacock slid under the bottom rope after the Arm Drag and he finds himself on the apron, which makes it easier for him to scale the turnbuckle from the outside. After the Arm Drag to Michelle, Truth turns around and sees that Peacock is already in mid-air, looking for the Glitterball Drop - but Truth moves out of the way! In his stead, Michelle von Horrowitz accepts Peacock landing on her shoulders, but she stands strong and is not taken down by the Seated Senton. What this does allow is for Peacock to execute a Hurricanrana to MvH which sends her into Truth, who scoops her up on his shoulders in a Fireman’s Carry, but MvH shuffles from his back and down into a Crucifix Pin! ONE… TWO-NO!! In kicking out of the move, Truth shifts his weight across and makes it so Michelle’s shoulders are on the mat; ONE… TWO-NO!! Not wanting to be left out, Chris Peacock stands to the side of Truth who is on his hands and knees and reaches under before rolling through with an Oklahoma Roll; ONE… TWO-NO!! Truth gets the shoulder up, and Peacock is unable to prevent MvH from jumping over him and grabbing his waist, down into a Sunset Flip, and she keeps his shoulders down with her legs into a Sitout Pin; ONE… TWO-NO!! As he kicks out, Peacock grabs MvH’s legs and then shifts the weight so she is down and he is on top of her for a Rana pin; ONE… TWO-NO!! As all of these pin falls are being attempted and exchanged, the crowd are rising to their feet and their wowing continues as Truth plucks Peacock out from on top of Michelle and traps him in an Inside Cradle; ONE… TWO-NO!! Again, Peacock shifts his weight to kick out and has the Small Package turned the other way with Cyrus’s shoulders now down; ONE… TWO-NO!! After Truth kicks out, both he and Peacock pop out of the Small Package and are on one knee each, and they see that Michelle von Horrowitz is as well and once again the three competitors find themselves in the stalemate they were in which began the match. Jean-Luc Watkins: “Absolutely brilliant stuff from all three here in Chicago; in a match like this it is best to just allow pins to occur as there is no need to break them up, but catching an opponent by surprise could be an effective way of advancing and ultimately winning.”The United Center is very appreciative of what they have seen so far, and the Nephews are shown applauding as well. All three return to their feet and it is a case of who will strike first and the answer to that question proves to be Michelle von Horrowitz, who gives Chris Peacock another chop in the same vein as the one received from Cyrus at the very beginning of the match. Truth decides to double down and deliver a chop of his own to Peacock, and this second strike puts the champion on the ropes once again. Truth shoots Peacock across the ring and then stands in the middle, ready to receive him, but instead he elevates Chris over his head, who once again looks for the Glitterball Drop on MvH, but Michelle sees it coming and adjusts her footing so that she can catch Peacock with an Inverted Atomic Drop on the way down! Jean-Luc Watkins: “I felt that one.”Rod Sterling: “Some very quick thinking from von Horrowitz there; and the champion is taking a bit of a pounding in this match so far from the challengers.”Allen Price: “They’re not working together, though! Given how these three feel about each other, I think the likelihood of any teamwork happening is very low.”Peacock holds his groin area after the impact, but his hands are soon torn away and placed above his head as Cyrus Truth hooks him up in a Full Nelson, and then drops him on the top of his head with a Dragon Suplex! Peacock holds his head and rolls away to the side as Truth rises back to his feet, and is immediately met with another European Uppercut from MvH, who cradles ‘The Exile’s head and then delivers another one with enough force to knock him back a few paces towards the turnbuckle. Sensing that he is about to be backed into a corner, Truth comes forward and meets von Horrowitz with an Elbow Smash to the face, which puts Michelle on the back foot instead. Truth grabs her by the trapezius muscles around her neck and then puts her back first against the turnbuckle, before fiercely giving her one of the chops as well. Truth picks MvH up and places her on the top rope and then paintbrushes her with his hand, but this causes MvH to kick out at him and knock him backwards away from the corner. She steadies herself on the top turnbuckle for a moment and then jumps onto the top rope to her left and then takes flight with a Springboard Crossbody which takes Cyrus Truth down! MvH rises to her feet defiantly and sees that Cyrus Truth has moved towards the ropes on all fours, so a Dropkick to the ribs is enough to send him tumbling through the bottom and middle ropes and down to the outside. She watches on as he starts to pick himself up on the outside and to ensure that Peacock does not interfere in what she is planning to do next, she gives him a couple of stomps to keep him down, before returning to the ropes near where Cyrus is positioned on the outside. Michelle grabs onto the top rope and then pulls herself up onto the top rope… SPRINGBOARD SHOOTING STAR PRESS TO THE OUTSIDE!!! Jean-Luc Watkins: “BRILLIANT!”Rod Sterling: “Listen to these fans! They can’t stand Michelle or the Nephews but you just have to appreciate something like that when you see it.”Both Cyrus Truth and Michelle von Horrowitz lay in a heap at ringside and despite their feelings towards Michelle and the Nephews, the crowd cannot resist breaking out into a “HOLY SHIT!” chant due to the athleticism that she displayed and it takes her a few moments to rise to her feet before she celebrates her feat with a grin out at the fans. What is unaccounted for though at this moment by MvH is the third person in the match, as Chris Peacock is on the apron behind her and he waits for her to turn around before lighting up her chest with a running kick. Peacock spins around with grace and then jumps from the ring apron and takes Michelle down at ringside with the Glitterball Drop on the third time of asking! Peacock gets up straight away and he brings Michelle with him and bounces her head off of the ring apron, which gets the approval of everyone in the arena aside from the Nephews. Peacock keeps his hand around the back of her head, bringing her around to the other side of the ringside area close to where the Nephews are sitting. He sees a chair set up next to the timekeeper’s area and decides to throw Michelle towards it, and she collides with the barrier before settling in the chair. Allen Price: “Sitting down? At a time like this?!”The FWA World Champion takes a glance at the Nephews and flips them the bird before he starts hammering down on the top of MvH’s head with some punches. “ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR! FIVE! SIX! SEVEN! EIGHT! NINE! TE-”The counting along by the crowd stops abruptly as Peacock instead reverts to biting the top of Michelle’s head! She attempts to force him to stop by pushing away his face but he stops on his own accord and then kicks her in the chest with the bottom of his boot to keep her at bay. The FWA World Champion then offers a middle finger to each one of the Nephews sitting at ringside, knowing that they cannot do anything about it at risk of disqualifying MvH from the match. In his excitement though, Peacock forgets about the existence of Cyrus Truth, who spins him around and then puts his hand around Peacock’s throat and then DRIVES HIM INTO THE FLOOR WITH THE MEMENTO MORI! The Nephews are all out of their seats and express their enjoyment of Peacock being caught out by Truth and the back of his head being forcefully driven onto the floor on the outside. They attempt some sort of thanks to Truth, but his glare is far more stifling of their enjoyment than any middle finger from Chris Peacock could be. Cyrus ignores Peacock for the time being and turns his attention back to MvH, who is still sitting on the chair. ‘The Exile’ appears to be lining her up for something and he charges in… but Michelle lunges forward and catches Truth with a Drop Toe Hold - and Truth lands face-first onto the seat of the chair! Allen Price: “Hey! He used a steel chair!”Jean-Luc Watkins: “I think this one goes down to the referee’s discretion, Price, and Larry Stevens isn’t going to jeaopardise this match for something like that.”Larry Stevens shakes his head over any disqualification for that, as it is the use of the environment which is permitted and Michelle did not actually strike Cyrus with a foreign object of any kind. Seeing this, MvH decides to see how far she can take this and she picks Peacock up from the floor as well and drags him over to the same outside corner as Truth rolls away and MvH lines up next to Peacock and SHE DROPS THE BACK OF PEACOCK’S HEAD ONTO THE CHAIR WITH A RUSSIAN LEG SWEEP! The FWA World Champion holds the back of his head once again, and Michelle lifts him from the floor with a bit of difficulty, and then rolls him back into the ring. She hooks a leg and the referee goes down to make the count; ONE… TWO… NO!!! MvH appears almost impressed with Peacock that he was able to kick out of such a move, but the FWA World Champion finds himself in a dangerous place now, that being alone in the ring with Michelle von Horrowitz. Michelle stands over Peacock after the kick out and flips him onto his front and she takes care in hooking his arms after getting on top of him and striking him in the back of the head a couple of times with her elbows before she hooks him up properly and applies the Cattle Mutilation! Peacock starts shouting out immediately after being trapped in the hold. Allen Price: “This one looks like it hurts. Lucky neither of us found ourselves in one of these earlier, J-L!”The referee comes down to check on Peacock, asking him if he wants to submit, but the FWA World Champion is adamant that he will not, no matter what happens, and MvH increases the torque on the hold as much as she can by lowering the bridge that she has created. Peacock’s legs writhe about as he looks for the ropes, but the positioning of the hold by MvH is perfect, as to be expected. Instead, he tries to bring his knees up underneath his body, but doing so only increases the pressure on the hold. Instead, Peacock’s reprieve comes in an unlikely form, as Cyrus Truth is back in the equation and he stands over MvH and then drives his forearm down, directly into her face, causing a break in the hold and allowing Peacock to escape. Full of anger and vitriol, Cyrus grabs Michelle and puts her against the bottom turnbuckle and starts stomping on her head for the First Five Steps! With each stomp to Michelle’s head and neck, the Nephews in the front row seem to grow in concern for their comrade. Truth then turns his attention to the FWA World Champion, who is still on the mat in some considerable pain following the Cattle Mutilation. Truth waits for him to get up to his knees, and then runs through him with a knee to the face which causes Peacock to collapse down onto his back and then ‘The Exile’ measures him for a moment before jumping up into the air and dropping a knee down across Peacock’s face as well - The Wanderer’s Wrath! Truth drops down and tightly hooks Peacock’s legs, trying to eliminate the defending champion from the Three Way Dance; ONE… TWO… NO!!! Rod Sterling: “Chris Peacock displaying some of that resilience that he is known for, there.”Allen Price: “There’s no way that he is going to let this title go without dying in that ring, Rod. I know how much this means to him.”Peacock rolls out of Cyrus’s grasp and towards the ropes, which causes Truth to turn his attention back to MvH, who is still trying to detach her face from the bottom turnbuckle. Truth picks her up in the corner once more, this time ensuring that he strikes her several times with some harsh elbows before he does so to keep her at bay, and Cyrus places her on the top rope before climbing up to the second rope himself and he then brings both of them onto the top rope, and Truth appears to be looking for a Superplex! However, before he can take MvH over and down to the mat for the big damage, Chris Peacock is back up and he clubs Truth on the back, causing him to lose his balance slightly and unable to execute the move. What this does allow though is for Peacock to position himself underneath Cyrus, and Larry Stevens warns Peacock from the middle of the ring. This does not stop the FWA World Champion though and he forces Cyrus backwards… TOWER OF DOOM!!! The crowd are on their feet and all three competitors are down, with Peacock taking out both of his challengers in one move. What is also strange is that the referee is down too; replays show that Michelle’s boot caught Stevens on the top of the head on the way down and the referee is out of it! Peacock slumps to the outside of the ring, with both Cyrus and MvH down in the middle of the ring; Michelle having gotten the worst of that move. Jean-Luc Watkins: “Well, when the cat's away, the mice will come and play!”A hushed silence fills the United Center, before a very loud amount of boos as they know what this means. The Nephews in the front row all rise to their feet and they hop the barricade and begin to swarm the ringside area; it is the opportunity that they have been waiting for. Uncle leads the group into the ring, where some tend to MvH and move her into one of the corners to try and keep her as fresh as they can, whilst the others round on Cyrus Truth… and Alphonse is the first to start stomping out ‘The Exile’ as revenge for that chairshot back on Meltdown XXVI! The rest of the Nephews join in, until Quiet silently instructs them to hold Truth up, which Kha’rina and Sting Ray do - and Quiet cracks Truth across the jaw with a Spinning Back Fist! Truth drops to the ground and Uncle starts to preach to the crowd whilst the Nephews once again bundle Truth on the mat with MvH watching on, grinning, next to a conflicted Gerald Grayson. The cameras though focus on Chris Peacock, who is back to his feet on the outside, just watching what is happening to Cyrus Truth in the ring and seems to be contemplating intervening. Rod Sterling: “Come on, Peacock! Get in there and help!”Jean-Luc Watkins: “I don’t think it is that simple, Rod. Put yourself in his shoes; the Nephews are doing some serious damage to one of his challengers, it may serve him better to just let this play out.”Allen Price: “Peacock has had Cyrus’s back a couple of times with the Nephews already, but there’s been no reciprocation or gratitude shown by ‘The Exile’... I wouldn’t blame Chris for not wanting to help out, but I know him well enough to know that there’s no way he’ll let this go on for much longer.”It would seem that the Price is right, because Chris Peacock picks up his Singapore Cane from the timekeeper’s area and then slides into the ring with it. Uncle cuts his spiel short and freezes in place as he has Peacock in front of him with the weapon and Peacock gives a goofy smile towards his ultimate nemesis and raises the cane - and Uncle manages to just get out of dodge before Peacock almost takes his head off with the swing! The Nephews realise the new threat, and they attempt to scatter away from Truth and most manage to get out unscathed. Quiet though stands up to Peacock and gets cracked on the top of the head with the cane for his troubles, and Sting Ray takes a shot to the back as he attempts to flee. Alphonse the Swiss Sherpa remains the sole Nephew on top of Truth, still, absconding his neutrality to gain revenge on the man who blasted him in the head with a chair. What this means instead though is that he is left for Peacock to grab him around the waistband and turn him around… AND PEACOCK SMASHES HIM IN THE FACE WITH THE CANE! With Alphonse rolling out of the ring and joining the Nephews on the outside once again, there is a moment where Peacock looks down at Truth with the cane still in his hand. Truth looks at Peacock and then the cane, and his expression changes to one of defiance. Rod Sterling: “Well, Cyrus Truth isn’t anyone’s damsel in distress, but I think he is wondering right now whether Peacock is going to use that cane against him. Here comes Michelle, though!”Jean-Luc Watkins: “BUSAIKU KNEE TO PEACOCK!”Whilst Peacock and Truth were busy focusing on each other for a moment, the third participant in the match was able to line up her shot and she absolutely wrecks Peacock with the Busaiku Knee! Peacock falls onto his back and the Singapore Cane is released from his hands and falls to the floor, and this is just as the referee is beginning to come around once again - unaware of the Nephews ever getting involved in the match as they’re now all back in their seats at ringside. The end result of their involvement though is that both Cyrus and Peacock are in worse states than before. With Peacock temporarily out of the equation, MvH turns her attention back to Cyrus Truth, and she grabs both of his wrists and begins to stomp through onto his face, giving him a taste of his own medicine from before. She continues stomping until she is satisfied that Truth is out of it enough for her to be able to exit the ring onto the apron where she climbs up the turnbuckle and then steadies herself as the crowd boos loudly. ‘Dreamer’ smirks out towards them smugly and then sets herself and takes flight… 450 SPLASH - BUT THERE’S NO ONE HOME!! The crowd cheers as somehow, Cyrus Truth rolls out of the way at the last possible moment to avoid the contact and Michelle is left clutching her ribs on the mat whilst Cyrus pulls himself up in the corner behind her and he stomps on the back of her knee and then runs the ropes and runs through MvH with a running Big Boot - The Broken Path! Not content with the damage done to Michelle just yet, though, Truth picks her up from the mat and then places her up on his shoulders in an Argentine Rack… EXILE’S EDGE!! The crowd cheer loudly as Truth crawls over to MvH and drapes an arm across her chest, and Larry Stevens is in position to count the pin; ONE… TWO… THR-NO!!! Michelle rolls out of the ring to the outside following the kick out. Truth sits up after the unsuccessful pin attempt, but he sees an incoming Chris Peacock who is looking for THE STRUT - BUT TRUTH DODGES AND SCHOOLBOYS THE CHAMPION!! ONE… TWO… THREE-NO!!! Peacock rolls back through after kicking out and both he and Truth get to their feet at the same time, and Peacock kicks Truth in the midsection, looking to follow up with the Disco Thriller Stunner - Truth blocks it! Cyrus spins Peacock around and then scoops him up into a Fireman’s Carry… JOURNEY’S END - BUT PEACOCK ROLLS THROUGH INTO A VICTORY ROLL!! ONE… TWO… THREE-NO!!! Cyrus kicks out with such force that Peacock springs up into the air and lands on top of the referee who was counting the pin, and Truth gets up and leans back against the ropes… AND MVH CRACKS TRUTH IN THE BACK WITH PEACOCK’S CANE!!! Jean-Luc Watkins: “MvH with the cane - and the referee didn’t see it! He can’t disqualify what he doesn’t see!”Rod Sterling: “Another rule bent by Michelle von Horrowitz, but her involvement could allow Chris Peacock to take advantage!”The use of the weapon causes Cyrus’s back to arch and he stumbles forwards, and it was missed by both Peacock and the referee as they were busy negotiating themselves out of the bundle they had found themselves in. What Peacock does see is Truth in a vulnerable position as he rises to his feet AND PEACOCK CHARGES AT TRUTH AND THEN RUNS HIM INTO THE TURNBUCKLE BEFORE PLANTING HIM DOWN ON THE MAT WITH THE ROLLER DISCO!!! Peacock stacks Truth up after the Spinebuster, and Larry Stevens counts the pin; ONE… TWO… THREE!!! {first fall}Eliminated: Cyrus Truth by Chris Peacock by pin fall at 22:18. Rod Sterling: “Just like that, we are down to two. Chris Peacock and Michelle von Horrowitz remain.”Allen Price: “Chris didn’t know that Michelle had used the cane; what else would someone do in that situation?”The crowd are displeased at the elimination, which gives Peacock some cause for confusion, as he was unaware of Michelle von Horrowitz’s involvement in it! Cyrus Truth is helped out of the ring by Larry Stevens and Peacock watches as Michelle gets up onto the ring apron and he acknowledges the task in front of him now that just one challenger remains. The FWA World Champion rises to his feet as MvH steps through the ropes and they have a staredown for a moment - before meeting and coming to blows in the middle of the ring! Neither champion nor challenger hold back from throwing bombs at the other, with the crowd firmly behind Peacock despite him eliminating Cyrus Truth, who now looks at the action in the ring ruefully before leaving. Peacock manages to string a couple of punches together on MvH and he does a small shimmy before going for a third, but Michelle cuts him off by biting him on the forehead! Peacock is now the one to get a taste of his own medicine from MvH and he then shoves her away and she stands against the ropes. Peacock charges forward and Clotheslines Michelle over the top rope with enough force that he also drops down to ringside with her. They spill on the outside, and Peacock actually lands in such a way that he is half under the ring. Michelle grabs him by the boot, and in his attempts to free himself from her as she has a hold of him, the champion actually disappears under the ring. Jean-Luc Watkins: “This is a strange tactic.”Allen Price: “Come on, Chris! Where are you going?”MvH uses the ring apron to pick herself up and she lifts the skirting up where she sees Peacock and is able to pull him out from under the ring, and she then gets on top of him and begins to punch him on the top of the head several times with a closed fist on the outside. At the referee’s insistence, she gets up off of him and then lifts him up… and sends him straight into the steel steps! Peacock winces, with the impact seemingly doing more damage than he thought, and Michelle drives her knee into his face, wedging his head against the steel. A shot of Peacock reveals that he has been busted open by either the punches or the steps, and blood trickles down his forehead. The challenger takes a moment to taunt the fans as she asserts her dominance over the champion, and she rolls him back into the ring. MvH then joins Peacock back inside and stomps on his chest as he lays on the mat. She then backs into the corner and waits for him to get up. As Peacock picks himself up to his knees, Michelle does a small dance, mocking him… AND THEN SHE RUNS THROUGH HIM WITH A BUSAIKU KNEE!! The FWA World Champion is down and out on his back, unable to offer any sort of resistance to Michelle’s offence now that it has come down to the two of them. MvH holds her arms out and walks around the downed champion before she heads over to the turnbuckle and begins to pull herself onto the top rope. Rod Sterling: “Well, it could be the end for Chris Peacock’s reign as the FWA World Champion; Michelle von Horrowitz is going to be looking for that 450 Splash, and if she hits it, Peacock is going to be done.”Jean-Luc Watkins: “I am surprised that Peacock has withered like this; ever since he eliminated Cyrus, Michelle has just steamrolled him. This could be the end right here.”Allen Price: “NO! Not if I have anything to do with it!”The sound of headphones clunking is heard and the camera shows Allen Price leaving the commentary table, and he runs around the ring and then pulls himself up onto the apron where he grabs MvH’s foot! This obviously prevents her from being able to execute the 450 Splash on Peacock. Michelle manages to shake him off, but the Nephews have once again left their seats and are back over the barricade to confront Allen Price. MvH watches on as Price quickly realises his mistake and he hops down from the apron and starts backing up the ramp, with the entire Nephews contingent in front of him. There is a look of nervousness on his face as the group gets closer to him. Rod Sterling: “That wasn’t the smartest thing to do, Allen. Peacock isn’t able to help you right now!”Suddenly, the lights go out! {HEAVEN IS A PLACE ON EARTH || BELINDA CARLISLE}[MEDIA=youtube]j2F4INQFjEI[/MEDIA] The crowd starts cheering and Michelle drops down from the turnbuckle and looks on as the lights return to normal and RICK VANCE IS WALKING DOWN THE RAMP FROM THE STAGE WITH A STEEL CHAIR IN HAND! Rod Sterling: “It looks like Allen Price has some back up after all! That’s ‘Slick’ Rick Vance - one half of the Diamond Dogs! Where is Santino Dongarelli, though?”‘Slick’ Rick runs his mouth as he walks down the ramp as someone else with plenty of history with the Nephews due to his association with Chris Peacock. He positions himself in front of the Nephews and holds the chair over his shoulder, showing that he is prepared to use it if needs be as the Nephews goad him on. In the ring, Michelle waves off the happenings on the outside and turns her attention back to Chris Peacock, who has turned over to lie on his front on the mat, still out of it from the battering he has taken from Michelle in the last several minutes. Michelle turns Chris over and reaches down… BUT PEACOCK CAPTURES HER IN A TIGHT SMALL PACKAGE!! ONE! … TWO!! … THREE!!! {result}Winner: Chris Peacock by pin fall at 29:44. The crowd go wild as Peacock’s music begins to play and the Nephews turn around to see what happened and what they see is a celebrating Chris Peacock standing over an absolutely stunned Michelle von Horrowitz! Allen Price and Rick Vance push themselves through the Nephews and join Peacock in the ring, hugging him as he is handed his championship by the referee and holds it close to his chest. Kurt Harrington: “Here is your winner and STILL the FWA World Champion… CHRIS PEEEEEAAAACCOOOOOOOCKKKK!!”Rod Sterling: “Chris Peacock has done it! Against all expectations, he has managed to retain the FWA World Championship here at The Grand March in this Three Way Dance! Not many people can say that they have pinned both Cyrus Truth and Michelle von Horrowitz in the same night, but he can!”Jean-Luc Watkins: “He seemed like he was completely out of it, Rod. Michelle von Horrowitz had him dead to rights, and even with the involvement of Price and Vance, it looked like MvH was in complete control, right up until the end there. Wasn’t he bleeding as well?”Strangely, the blood that was on Peacock’s face and chest has disappeared as he raises the championship in the air… but the mystery is soon solved as a figure emerges from underneath the ring. This man looks exactly like Chris Peacock and is dressed the same, and he wears the blood that the champion was thought to. Rod Sterling: “Hey! That’s Drew Peacock - Chris’s twin brother! They must have switched themselves out during the match and that is why MvH was having such an easy time with Peacock - they switched back when Rick Vance’s music was playing! Chris Peacock and friends have completely played Michelle von Horrowitz and the Nephews here tonight!”Jean-Luc Watkins: “Well, some may feel like it is justice being served in this instance after months of watching Michelle use the Nephews to cheat her way through the F1 Climaxxx, including the manner in which she won that tournament and even in this match itself, how she caused Cyrus Truth’s elimination. Chris Peacock played the Nephews at their own game and he won. I do not think that the Nephews are going to take this one lying down, though.”Once the initial shock has dissipated, Michelle rises to her feet and stands in front of Peacock and his friends. She is speechless, but at the same time seems like she wants to scream at the top of her lungs. Peacock adjusts the championship on his shoulder and then begins to grin. He looks at Michelle and asks “Am I a real champion now?”, which irks MvH even more. The Nephews begin to circle the ring as Peacock’s music stops; something is about to happen. Peacock gets in front of his brother as the Nephews stand on the apron, seemingly waiting for the signal to pounce on their long-time rivals… but the fans begin to cheer loudly and attention turns back to the stage… CYRUS TRUTH IS WALKING BACK OUT! Rod Sterling: “Cyrus Truth? The first person eliminated in this match is back out here, and we know that he detests both the Nephews and Chris Peacock - where does he fit into all of this?”Cyrus picks up the chair dropped by Rick Vance in his celebrations and approaches the nearest Nephew on the apron - it is Alphonse once again - and he pulls him down AND BOUNCES THE CHAIR OFF OF HIS SKULL! The crowd pops again and this gets the attention of the rest of the Nephews, who all scatter back into the crowd, not wanting any part of an angry Cyrus Truth! The only two that remain are Michelle von Horrowitz and Gerald Grayson, who joins her in the ring. He hands her her FWA World Tag Team Championship and seems to be convincing her out of staying and fighting further. She takes one last look at the belt on Chris Peacock’s shoulder, and shakes her head before leaving the ring, not paying any attention to Cyrus Truth as she does so. Grayson hangs back for a moment and looks at Peacock and then at the ground, and offers him a “Congratulations.”, before also taking his leave. Jean-Luc Watkins: “The Connection have a big match against The Buddy System at Carnal Contendership to worry about, so I’m not surprised that Grayson is trying to preserve his partner for that match.”Peacock breathes a sigh of relief as The Connection leave, and he looks through the ropes at Cyrus Truth and offers a nod with a “Thank you.”, and Truth simply nods back whilst retaining his intensity before dropping the chair and leaving. Peacock’s music resumes and he raises the championship up in the air. Rod Sterling: “Whilst Chris Peacock and Cyrus Truth are never going to be drinking buddies, I think we can at least say that there is some respect present between the two of them.”Jean-Luc Watkins: “Wrestling fans, it has been a momentous weekend; the return of Danny Toner to the FWA, Caesar hailed as the new X Champion, Allen Price won a Pay-Per-View match but the big headline is that Chris Peacock is still your FWA World Champion and he will be facing the winner of the Carnal Contendership match at Back in Business. Goodnight, everyone.”The closing moment of The Grand Match 2023 is Chris Peacock on the middle rope in one of the corners, raising holding the FWA World Championship in the air. |
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