(Cloud’s Inner Thoughts)

Serenity getting signed to War Made Wrestling was a shock to everyone, myself most of all. The girl had yet to have her first official match, but yet the company was interested in signing her. In classic Serenity fashion, the girl signs with the promotion before consulting with any of us. Lauryn was head over heels with the idea, while Angie was freaking out. Serenity graduated from high school in the summer and promised that she would give college a chance before becoming a wrestler. I did it for my mother and advised her as much. Serenity just smiled and nodded- but here we are months later seeing Serenity in the commercial for the show’s series premiere. “Daughter of the Scorpion” they’re calling to her, referring to her late father, Michael Hunter aka Black Scorpio. He would never approve his daughter of joining the business. This is why he left me the gym. Naheem would have sold it, the other Bogard brothers are too busy, Nelson has his gym, so I was the only logical choice. He also encouraged for me to make the place my own. One day that’ll be the case. For now, I had two disrespectful sisters to deal with- one who broke a promise, and the other who took mercy upon a pitiful soul. For all of Eclipse’s teachings, it was a surprise to see the one closest to him to react in a way opposite of what he preaches. After my match with this April Song, I’ll see what’s up with Joce. Mao did some research on my upcoming opponent, but nothing came up. It was like she was a ghost. Well, I saw every Ghostbusters- including the feminist one. I knew what to do with the likes of her.


Exterminate.


(The camera opens up to Mao watching Steph lift weights.)

Good evening EAW universe. It is I, Mao Ichimichi, the Voice of the War Queen. What you saw yesterday was a simple demonstration of my client’s power. She is the epitome of physical dominance and the avatar of unadulterated violence. This is the reason Eclipse calls her his sword; she will cut down whoever, however. Will she be forced to cut down her protege? Only time will tell. It is none of my business as I keep myself out of Sanatorium business. I’m only here to guide where Matsuda swings her blade. April Song is an international woman of mystery. Not much is known about her except that she’s a submission specialist with a subpar fight record. Next week, there will be no Megan Raine to save you. The Peruvian Necktie will be outshined by a Blasian Sunrise. My client is the living example of “eat, sleep, challenge, repeat”. We Japanese have a saying: Nanakorobi yaoki. It means “fall seven times and stand up eight”. The more Matsuda falls, the louder she thunders back. She flies comes down from the heavens upon her foes, taking them to Cloud 9. Your mysterious aura matters not to my client and I. We’ve seen your kind walk in and out of this company. There was once a luchadora who never left her house without her mask. She defeated Cloud, who got her vengeance. Instead of meeting my opponent in the ring for a rubber match, she simply left the company. That’s what happens to the foes of my client, April. She checks them out, and they never challenge her again. Cleopatra and Tarah avoid her. Aria and Cailin refuse to fight her. The OGs made her an ally to avoid her wrath. The former champion left Empire! Stephanie “Cloud” Matsuda is the most dangerous woman on the roster, and soon she will be the only unbeatable one. You’re just another name to add to the list of those conquered by the War Queen. She’s more focused than ever Ms. Song. She’s not here for unknown reasons- her goal is quite clear: to own the division. People underestimated her, and they paid the price. I would be wise to treat this as the fight of your life, the most important match you will ever have. Because it is and it always will be. This is the match that decides your fate.

This is the match that will make you quit.

Whatever reason why you signed that contract should be forgotten. Go home, meet a guy in your local bar, and let him buy you a few drinks. Talk about all your failed dreams and let be inspired by his mediocrity. Comment on his beard and his plaid shirt and adjust his square-rimmed glasses. Go out to an indy show with him, take salsa lessons, whatever suit your fancy. Let him propose and say yes for maybe just maybe life will get better for you. Because that’s the best your life is going to get April Song. You are not a warrior. You’re a fraud hiding behind other weak women. You are the breakfast my client eats daily. Know and understand what’s about to happen next week. Take it in, take a breath, and give in your two weeks. We’ll understand if you leave with your head between your legs, Stephanie can be a forgiving person. She’s not even angry at Cailin or Tarah anymore. As for Ms. Jaxon, that’s another story for another day. Her personal betrayal has yet to be paid, but in due time she will. Before Thursday, take a look at my client’s previous exploits and decide for yourself if you want to be taken to Cloud City.

(Steph finishes her workout and walks next to Mao.)

We’ll be waiting.

Oh yes, how great moments are born from great opportunity. But let Lannister be the first and last testament to the flip side of this old and battered cliche. Because it goes without saying, that there are two separate sides of the spectrum represented in the facade yet to unveil. And as the night descents over this crossroad, let the facts perpetuate and resound. Because this false prophet in Nick Angel has aligned himself up for his greatest underachieving nature yet. For every place your mind has ever wandered to has been burned to the torch. Your hopes and aspirations only go as far as the man leading the way, and how Nick Angel, you've proven to be anything but a leader. You and Lannister are not all that frequent with one another, but nonetheless, Lannister can sense the nature at the core all the same. And oh, how you pride yourself on this angel, alright. But you have tried your wings, Nick, and how badly they got burned. The missing link of it all? A worldly mystery, at least in the eyes of your own. Perhaps it is time, more than ever, to stop your deep moral preaching, and this high horse in which you stand. Because Lannister is inclined to believe that you are drowning in the pool of your own shame, and looking for the easy way out. Because after all, misery does love company, and how another crushing defeat to match your others would line up quite well to this track meet you've set up for yourself. But then again, maybe that's just a product of the lack there of, a dreamer who can be bought. For bringing enlightening detail to this knowledge, of all this defeat, will surely drown anybody in the flames. But you are no hero, Nick Angel, let Lannister set it straight. And if you are, that surely bodes not well, either.

Lannister has seen the heroes ride against the winds of the dark. And much like the quiet in breath, how soon the flash of their fatal mistakes, come to avail. The fire that burns, is often the light that blinds. This imposter of a man, Nick Angel, is no sound of enlightenment. No threat for Lannister to torture his own mind over. Lannister is bound to treat this ordeal as a conquest, but only because there is a certain craving to be had for allowing the bell to toll. Lannister is not one to mold his image in its entity, but how fear will soon compromise itself in Nick Angel's shade. 'Cause while Mr. Angel is lost in the circles of his fairies - he'll soon come to the realization that he'll dance to that tune for all of remaining time. He has entrapped himself as a prisoner of his own belittled fate. All that work, all that lust - bred to fade in one instantaneous moment. A spectacle that will serve as an ancient scroll to the lost and the damned. Lannister has no choice but to bestow the responsibility of execution upon himself. For Lannister sees this opportunity as a treasure, to personally discriminate against the illusion that Nick Angel has cast upon his ideals: That Lannister is one to expose.

The spirit is one to admire, perhaps, but how this will fail to be showcased as the sacred confines. While Nick would like to see himself as a revolutionary, finding liberty in the ideal of usurping the Lannister throne, this fatal ambition will only be fed upon and violated by the one they call the ANGEL of Debt. For if there is one concept you can count on Lannister for - it's the one where his enemies never leave the encounter the same. But this time it's different, for Lannister is out for blood, out for what remains of Nick Angel's pride. For there is no man like Lannister, just the pure spectacle of challenging Lannister for what is proclaimed his is enough to unleash the bringer in Lannister's judgment and stead. Lannister will see to it that he brings Nick Angel his greatest embarrassment yet. For a man that has served from lackey to disappointment, oh St. Nick - how it all seem hollow and shelled in comparison. Lannister is not a man to be known to speak in a manner that harbors false confidence. It is the absolution of the Lannister decree in why he is currently the keeper of the reign, the Answers World Champion. For he is the lead role of his earthly desires, something that Nick Angel was never able to aspire. The accusations of the less fortunate will never play weight to Lannister's subconsciousness. Because while you are so quick to judge the Lannister lion, Nick Angel, how it's always the likes of you who walk in pins and needles. You and your infectious-like are always the first to beg for mercy when the system comes down hard. You will always be a man to chase the shadows, the one counting on the Lannister mistake. But how everyone known to man has always counted on that for their own fortune. Lannister does not walk on parallel ground to you, and it's about time you learned your place in this world, this kingdom that Lannister has since forged.

While you like to suggest that Lannister is the establishment, the regime in which corrupts his own power. Why, Lannister will not dispute. He's built an avalanche of milestones that muster up so much weight, anybody of lower esteem are simply crushed morally by the example set. The game has been rigged against you, St. Nick. But not because the industry has had a personal vendetta against you, oh no. It is your envy and jealous that has led you stray, that has polluted your mind. Nick Angel, it is a glowing defeat in which you will be processed under, one that circles you time and time again as your own greatest failure. Lannister is only the staple to this blueprint design, the material that puts it all together. But in all honesty, it is your blind arrogance that has brought you to the anguish that sets upon the horizons now. You never showed the quality and desire that Lannister's hierarchy stands. You are lost in time, continuing to believe that some old tune, that you have simply more to shed light with. But you are no spring chicken, but how quick and easy it was for Lannister to springboard around your negligence and incompetence, and fill in that role that you so eagerly aim to achieve. You are a slave to your own search, plagued by the demand of your own future. You may see yourself as the landed hero, the David to Lannister's Goliath. You may beat your drum to the tune, to the anthem of the underdog. In this fabled world you have created for yourself, you label yourself as anything but the failure you are. Anything but the passing hourglass that represents itself in due time. In this world of yours, you are the hero to slay the Lannister lion once and for all. But like Lannister said, that reality only speaks absolution in your mind.

Because in THIS world? THIS reality?

It is Lannister that reigns as the hero and the king. And forever, it will be HIS name that remains. HIS name that echoes through the chronicles of this industry. HIS name that rings true. HIS name that screams... LANNISTER... LANNISTER... LANNISTER!

And it pays, to be in his company. It is the Lannister debt... that keeps on paying. Lannister sends you his royal regards to you... and your future endeavors.

Voltage promo #3


Friday, Buffalo, New York, 11:57 p.m.


(The scene opens inside a small hotel room. The camera pans across the room slowly. The lighting is a bit scattered as the lamp, as well as the desk it sat on, the dresser and tv, and mattress and bed frame have all been overturned. In the middle of the room, in the area that is most in shadows, Solomon Caine sits on his knees. His face expressionless, his eyes glazed over. His jaw hanging loose that his lips are parted just slightly to one side, his upper body stiff and ridged. The camera stands fixed on Caine for a long, silent moment, before Caine slowly begins to nod his head yes.)

Caine: "I understand."

(Caine bows down with his face to the ground for a quick second before slowly rising back to his knees. The trance he is under fading away as he does.)


Caine: "Thank you my masters. Thank your for trials that you have placed before me. Thank you that thru them I prove my worth as one to bring forth your words. And an honor to seek the golden crown and return it onto you. For it is rightfully yours, and all the glories that come with kingdom of Elite, they shall be added to your names, and the masses will finally recognize you and your works! Your kingdom shall spread over across the lands and topple the empires of this earth. the lllllooooorrrrdddssss of the world who believe that the power they possess shall save them, shall be crushed under your feet, and the heathens who cling to them, they shall be scattered by the great fire on the day of your glorious coming.

Oh how the future lays ripe with possibly. How time is but a thin vail that barely masks the world to come. How the will of each man, woman, and creature falls in place in accordance with the will of the ones who are sending me. Soon, sooner than any of you wretched filth realize, the crown of elite shall be in their possession, and with it more of the ignorant masses shall come to know my masters, and their influence shall spread even further, their power shall grow even greater, and their names shall be heaped with the honor and glory that rightfully belong to them. And though there are still trials and tribulations place before me on the path they have chosen, I rejoice for their rule upon this earth is at hand, and none shall be able to resist and stand against them.

No, not even you Mike Showman. Not even all your arrogance, and pride, and overconfidence can withstand the onslaught that shall be unleash upon you. Though you doubt the truth of, and pay only lip service when you speak of being willing to learn of them, when the appointed hour has arrived, nothing shall prevent you from being the next to be sacrificed upon the altar. This time you are firmly within the grasp of the ones who have sent me. This time Showman, nothing shall save from the full measure of the bitter cup you must drink from. Much as your companion Jon McAdams has tasted, you pay no mind to his realization of my masters' power. Much as the BASTARDS that speak evil blasphemies are laid low! you deny the works they orchestrate. You instead cling to the evil desires that have filled your black heart. You follow your insatiable lust for gold and glory, and the crown that belongs to my masters, and see not past the end of your nose as it leads you to your own demise, as it leads you right into my hands. And in a short while, when the clock strikes upon the hour, I shall rejoice as I crush you, and scatter your remanence along the earth.

Open your ears, know that there is nothing hidden within my words, for I was not sent to bring about deceptions as the heathens do. I do. It twist their meaning, nor do I embellish upon their truth. I speak plainly for the entire masses upon the earth to hear, just as I speak clearly to you Showman. When I ttttteeeellllllllllll yyyyyooooouuuu of the woe and misery that shall befall you, it is not that you should fear me, it is not that you should think greater of me. It is that you would prepare yourself! PREPARE FOR THE HORRORS THAT I MUST INFLICT UPON YOU! THE PAIN YOU SHALL KNOW, THE SCARS YOU SHALL CARRY, THE MEMORIES THAT SHALL HAUNT YOU, THEY ARE NEITHER ILLUSION NOR THEATRICS!!! THEY ARE THE ITEMS OF REMEMBRANCE THAT SHALL NEVER PART FROM YOUR SIDE UNTIL THE END OF AGES!!!

These sufferings, they shall be bound to you. They will cripple you with just the thought of them, they will terrify you as you sleep. They shall linger in the back of your mind, and make themselves ever more present with each step you take, and every breath you draw in. I say onto you Showman, that after they have had their will cast upon you, no amount of riches , nor worldly pleasures, shall ever be able to soothe you, or offer you even a moment's comfort. After this Sunday you shall become nothing more than an object of pity before the sight of every soul you pass by. They shall gaze into your eyes and see that you are dead inside, and they shall know that it was my masters whom destroyed your spirit. The masses shall gather around you and see that it was my masters who have brought you to rack and ruin. And you, you Showman shall gaze into the mirror, day after day, and realize that you had brought your misfortune upon yourself.

For with your boasting you drew their ire, with your taunting your stirred up thief wrath. And with your quest for their crown, you have sealed your fate.

Come forth this Sunday, and know but just a small taste of the might their wield. Step forth upon the altar, and receive the just rewards for your wickedness. Open your eyes and see their works unfolding before your very eyes! And then weep. Weep for those who like you still doubt. Those like you who have spoken whatever evil their poisonous tongues could. Weep for the. For they know not the glorious reign. They know not of the flood of fire that shall sweep over the structures of steel and stone, and send them crumbling to their foundations! They know not of the burning bodies that shall line the streets as they are washed away in a river of blood! And they know not of the great, pained cries for mercy that shall stretch out and ring forever in eternity, as they are eaten alive by the fire!

Yes weep for them Mike Showman, weep for the. As you would yourself. For when the you see firsthand that they are not phantom specters who cannot even lay a finger upon the me. Of this world, but they are the ones who will reshape this world to their liking. And with each passing day we draw closer to the King Of Elite, and even closer to the coming of the kingdom of ones who have sent me being placed upon the earth!

I speak this as the words of my masters, for all these things they have told me, and they must be so."


(Caine inhales deeply as he closes his eyes, and slowly again bows down with his face to the ground, before the camera fades out to black.)

The end.

I’ve never owned these streets, at the same time I was never some softie either. Ever since I got in touch with the EAW Universe everyone has been trying to clown on me and play me like I’m some underdog or I’m a young up and comer. I know it might not seem like it because I have my history but I’ve been in the game for some time now. When I win matches I don’t want you to be surprised or use any underdog titles on the front of the newspapers the next morning. I don’t want people to be shocked when I win, I want them to be mad when I win to the point wait it annoys them to see my name pop up every time. TJ or should I say “Mr. Bad to the Bone” is that supposed to frighten me, is that supposed to make me some type of way going into our match? Well it’s failed miserably just like you don’t care about whatever nicknames I have for myself or what I go by I don’t care that nicknames you have for yourself. I mean hell some of these names I go by are fan given because they know what I’m capable of and soon enough you will too. As much as Hexa-Gun might have thrown ass around I never backed down and I won’t start now. Matter of fact I want to thank you for digging up stuff from the dirt. I feel there’s some unfinished business with us I mean after all the times you’ve beaten us down you can’t possibly expect me not to want revenge right? You were the main one just talking about how I should seek revenge against Lars, well before that I’m seeking revenge against you.


A revenge that hasn’t have to be solved with me breaking a bone or two. No I’ll do something much worse I’ll take what you want most and sweep it right from under you like a rug. That will be the solution to that and you’ll live with the fact that the finest in the game lost to the same guy you insult and call all these names. Now that right there is sweet, sweet revenge and it’ll have that extra sting especially if I end up winning the whole thing. What happens when what you spoke of your past enemies happens to you and you’re the one that talks a big game and ends up losing? I mean hell I don’t even think you’re fully healed from doing that at Road to Redemption and coming up short. That just means I add onto the already open wound that you have. You are trying your hardest not to think about it and tell yourself it won’t happen. Continue to do so just so I can feel that much better when it does happen and you weren’t expecting it not one bit. That’ll defiantly open that wound up a whole lot more. Just like you with Hexa-Gun I’m still tough without JJ and Eclipse. I’m tough without Cailin and I’m tough without Big Mike. I’ve never stopped being tough what you think is going to be an easy path to the next round is going to be one of the toughest challenges you had in some time. If they were to ask me right now who’s going to be the most upset if they lose and when they lose in the next set of matches for round this week. Without thinking about it twice, my answer would be Tiberius Jones.

Broken tales and wishes is what you say you’re castle is built off of? Well allow me to help you continue to build that castle with your own broken tales and wishes. Then you know what since I did that, maybe I just build the rest of the castle you were working on with MY opponents in the future rounds broken tales and wishes. Making you regret you even started to build up on this castle in the first place. If you think it’s hard to imagine me winning this crown and sitting atop of the castle you built than just imagine how it’ll really to feel to look at it? It could have been avoided if you lived up to those big words and didn’t trip over them. You’ll be the one who stopped “The Underdog” or the “Boy Wonder” or whatever stupid and childish ass nickname they’ve had me for lately. However just like anyone else in my path from here on out you’ll fail to do so. So again EAW Universe, again Maria and Pierre don’t be surprised when I beat this man. The only headlines I want to see the next day in the daily news is “Chris Elite has done what we should have all expected in the first place”. I know Baltimore isn’t used to relying on things, people or teams however I’m letting you know right now with full confidence you can rely on me. The only story told in the next couple of years to go on is the story about how I Chris Elite won King of Elite and you know what? You won’t even be a big part of the story you’ll just go by one of the guys I beat along the way to earn my crown nothing less and nothing more.

(Drastik is shown storming through a door into what looks like a green room, where he begins tugging at his tie to loosen it. He seems frustrated and paces back and forth, looking for something to flip over before settling on knocking over a cup with a couple of pens in it. He immediately picks them back up and puts the cup back in place. He sits down on the couch and then pops back up, waving the cameraman over and looking at it. Drastik almost looks as though he’s playing it up for the camera as he begins speaking.)
 
So let me get this straight: I shower, put on a nice suit, brush my hair back, put up some nice lights and make a commitment to being serious and direct—just like you continually asked me to be—and all of the sudden you don’t want to talk anymore? You’re done responding to me? Why? Has something clicked in you that made you realize that you’re up against something far more versatile than you ever imagined? Are you realizing that I was right about you being a one-trick pony? What is this? Any sort of hope you had in intimidating me has completely vanished—and I can assure you, there wasn’t much intimidation at all in the first place. Between having your valet speak for you, to saying that you were done responding, to insulting a random crowd for being overweight or stupid or whatever insults you threw around, it’s becoming abundantly clear that you’re panicking. You’ve been flip-flopping all week long on what you’re after—if you want me to be serious or light-hearted, if you want to be crowned King of Elite or if you think that it doesn’t matter either way. These are the kinds of signs that pop up when a guy is unsure of himself. I can tell, Elijah, that you’re increasingly at a loss of what to do here with a guy like me. Sure, maybe you can gameplan against some other opponents, but with me, you seem to be completely lost on where to go. So instead, you’re backing up and saying that you’ve said what needed to be said, not because you’ve won your argument, but because you’re not even sure what to say now. That’s exactly something to expect from someone who has preached repeatedly about how shameful some of my losses have been when you’ve only had two or three matches in this company yet have still found a way to lose to a young woman who is equally as green to this brand as you are. Who are you trying to fool? Are you thinking that if you fool me enough, you’ll end up fooling yourself too? I’ve got some bad news for you if that’s your line of thinking—you haven’t convinced me that you’re at all a credible threat.
 
You misunderstood what I was saying about possessing the ability in me to become sadistic. Of course there is a time and place for that, and anybody that takes things too lightly will be put in his place after enough time. But the idea that I need to pull out all the stops each and every week—that I have to leave people in pools of their own blood because those victories are worth more—is absolutely ridiculous. That’s how you find yourself meddling in the lower end of the card, Elijah. That’s how you end up not getting rung up by EAW and offered a serious contract. They keep you in your spot until you change something, and I’ve changed with the time despite every claim you’ve made that I’m the same person. And even if I hadn’t changed at all but still had the career I had, why on earth would I take advice from someone who preaches dominance yet has a .500 record here since debuting? You continue acting as thought what I’m spewing is nonsense, keep on saying that how I’m describing myself isn’t relevant anymore—that what I’m describing is how I used to be rather than how I am now. But then you turn around an act as if you’ve proven something because you were able to come up with a win last week against someone who you deem to be credible. What happened in weeks previous when you weren’t victorious? What happened to that fear that you talk about instilling in this company? What happened to the guy who’s been on me about being totally in control—who claims to be the one that’s in control? Control is demonstrated through following up on promises. You, Elijah, have not lived up to your promise of being the kind of monster that threatens the way things are. But me, I’ve lived up to almost every single promise I’ve made. When I leave, it’s not because I’ve been vanquished or because I’ve run into too many closed doors, it’s because I’ve gotten what I came for and lived up to whatever promise I made. I’ve left on my own terms every single time that I’ve left. And it’s that notoriety in living up to my promises—supported or not—that gives my promises weight now. Any schmuck can come in here and say that they’re going to shake the foundation, run the table, become this champ or that champ, overcome every obstacle in their way—but if they don’t have anything to base those threats on, then what are they really? Whatever the answer to that question is, Elijah, that’s what you are. You have made threat on threat on threat and have nothing to base it on other than a flimsy win against a former champion who’s on the brink of taking a break to “rediscover his passion”. What else are you going to tell me to convince me otherwise? That you had all these brutal matches before coming to EAW? That you got into a really nasty fight in the prison yard that I should take into consideration? That I should trust you because I don’t know what you bring to the table? Well I’ve seen it, Elijah—and if there’s more to it, then maybe you’re the one that’s been coasting all this time.
 
(Unlike last time, Drastik doesn’t hold back that he finds this hilarious, letting out laughter and then rubbing his chin to try to refocus enough to talk coherently. He takes a deep breath before waving a finger at the camera and addressing Elijah Stewart once again.)
 
Who knows if this will even get a response from you, but if you decide to go crash some random indie show and make a homecoming to a place that actually still may find you intimidating at all, then make sure to let them know what you’ve gotten yourself into. Don’t make those flimsy promises and swear to everyone in whatever bingo hall you’re at that you’re going to make a statement on Voltage this upcoming week. I’d keep on with the backtracking you’ve been doing when you talk to me. Do some damage control. Keep admitting that you’re just some new guy that doesn’t get how the system works. Tell the people that you don’t care about winning and losing because you’re here for something bigger than that. Start the excuses now so that the next time you passive-aggressively speak to these crowds about your opponents, they don’t just laugh and cheer over you because they see right through you the same way I do. I already know how you react to jeering and laughing and lighthearted comments when I make them, so I can only imagine how you feel when a pack of fans are bullying you with that kind of treatment. I just hope that when you’re done with this match, you have a moment to yourself thinking, “What went wrong? Why didn’t this work? Why wasn’t this like it was when I faced Nathan?” And when you’re looking through the tape, looking back on what was being said, looking at every little detail amidst your fake confidence, I hope you realize exactly why I came at you like you were a joke. I can barely help but laugh at you and the argument you bring to the table. That’s why I’ve been making jokes about Lucky Charms and Shrek and kilts and Scots. That’s why I’ve been trying to stop myself from slipping up and calling you Elijah Wood instead of Elijah Stewart. I mean think about it, dude, I could have just passed on the chance to be serious the last two times I addressed you and instead decided to talk about Lord of the Rings all this time instead. I haven’t even watched the movies! That could have been a train wreck. But no, I played my game and I played yours too. And when I beat you in both, you turned away and redirected your attention to a group of people you feel you can actually manipulate. Enjoy that while it lasts, because you’re going to be exposed to be a pathological false-promise maker in these coming weeks. And while you enjoy that, I’m going to make sure to enjoy a sweet sleepover with my friend—my best friend—Ahren Fournier. I figured it would be fun to sit cross-legged in our PJ’s, passing a box of Elijah Stewart Lucky Charms back and forth, watching scary movies like any of the last abysmal video packages you’ve sent my way. Maybe not as good as Shrek, but I’m sure it’ll be a fun night anyways. You can extend the invitation to Alana too if she wants to come over and play Spin-the-one-of-many-championships-and-trophies-I’ve-accumulated-over-the-course-of-my-Career, just the three of us. And if not, then maybe I’ll just hide behind Ahren and have him give a public service announcement about giving you the silent treatment just like you had her do. But hey, we’ll cross that bridge once we get there. Toodles!
 
(Pulling out his phone, Drastik quickly begins texting Ahren Fournier to double check if the sleepover is still on. Drastik nonchalantly waves toward the camera before the cameraman whispers, “Is that how you really want to end this? You were being so serious and then you broke all the way down to telling him ‘toodles’.” Drastik ignores the cameraman before the scene just cuts off. Before the package ends, bright white text flashes on the screen.)
 
SAIL

Lyuncrust: THE CRUST TRUST.

LC: Dear God...

Lyuncrust: THE THREE CRUSTKETEERS!!!

LC: What the...

Lyuncrust: This is going to be a thing. The greatest thing EAW has seen in terms of alliances that work toward the greater good. The greater good of food, fulfillment, and happiness!

LC: That doesn't even make sense!

Lyuncrust: It'll all fall into place, just like these peanuts are going to fall into my mouth.

*Lyuncrust tosses up a handful of honey roasted peanuts. Most of them miss.*

LC: Right.

Lyuncrust: Look, this is a new era! A new Lioncross, and a Lioncross that fans will love more than ever before.

LC: Not if I don't win matches! Look at Terry Chambers - he's a man that's focused and has a plan for this new year. It's not one that I'm convinced will work, seeing as he hasn't showed much at all in terms of being a singles wrestler, but he's got an idea. My plan is to enjoy the year more, sure, but part of enjoying my career in wrestling is winning matches. I'm done with Cash In The Vault, I'm done chasing the World Title, and I'm done with luck being on Lannister's side. I still need to win sometimes for fans to stick around.

Lyuncrust: I NEVER WON MATCHES AND FANS LOVE ME!

LC: THEY CAN CONNECT WITH YOU! YOU'RE AS OBSESSED WITH FOOD AS THE AVERAGE WRESTLING FAN!

Lyuncrust: SINCE WHEN ARE YOU TAKING THAT APPROACH?!? NO WONDER YOU THINK FANS WILL TURN ON YOU!

LC: YELLING! SCREAMING! FOOD! I'M MORE PUZZLED NOW THAN I WAS DURING ALL THAT CASH IN THE VAULT BULLSHIT!

Lyuncrust: AND THAT'S WHY I'M HERE!

LC: TO DO WHAT???

Lyuncrust: TO APPEAR MORE CONFUSED THAN YOU!!!

LC: ..................

Lyuncrust: Look, just relax. I'll be your manager. I'll be at ringside, and I'll be there with a burger to help you if you're in trouble.

LC: You're going to be at ringside eating a burger.

Lyuncrust: Nah, the burger's for you.

LC: A burger? During a wrestling match?

Lyuncrust: Hey, it worked for a hockey player back in 2012.

LC: Just... let me do my thing. You do you at ringside. And don't freak Pizza Boy out like that too often. He's a broken man from the millions of times he's gotten the lights beaten out of him. He may have some sort of PTSD.

Lyuncrust: ...that a new sandwich at Subway?

I will not fan disrespect.

I will not blow smoke.

I will not concede.

I will not be apart of a coronation.

While I'm at the very least flattered and incredibly humbled by Devan Dubian’s attempt to display some humility, I really can't help but wonder...wonder if he truly understands how much different this bout is going to be from our last. Devan’s ability to try and go above the haughty outfit that many Elitists, myself included from time to time, choose to cloak themselves with wasn't a complete success, but he did still manage to shed some light on some of what it takes to rise here in EAW, which is astounding, I will admit. However, he still underestimates how much more determined I am to prove myself this week just as I did last week. Soon...soon I will be putting that serious doubt he has about whether I can get past this week to rest. I'll put an end to the debate once and for all of whether I am ready for bigger things in that ring. In fact, if I'm to keep to my current form and go all out this week in all aspects, then the idea is to finish what I've started going back to the start of last week before Showdown. That is imperative. I do ask that Devan not be mistaken of my relentless pursuit for something more going forward as a form of ignorance to the whispers of advice that he has graciously decided to gift upon me. I know I likely don't need to ask if he is slighted having just heard all that I've just said, because he already understands this about me. He knows I'm going to come with everything I've got. I could actually do the opposite of disrespect when it comes to Devan Dubian all day. He seems like a swell individual to be around. He's done a fine job of staying humble for the most part except for a bit of self-entitlement he presents to me. I could go on like I said, but as per my own mandate to myself I will not. I am staying focused on winning this week. In light of all the positive vibes I've gathered from Devan’s words, there is not a single hint of hesitation on my part to tell him that it's still not his time, not at my expense. It's going to soon be my time. My time will come sooner than many would like to think, including Devan..especially Devan. Devan can offer tips as he had on both occasions we have met, which is most welcomed, but I'm not about see my past defeats as a measure or some prerequisite as a means of succeeding in the future, but right now, this weekend. Every week for me builds off the previous one whether it was a narrow defeat or decisive victory. This week will be no different. Those prior failures are in the past, experiences I have not only left behind, but ones I will also rightfully learn from. Like Parker, to Devan there is nowhere in his thought process that would leave any subtle hints as to suggest that I have a shot at making it to the next round, and to me that is fine. The adolescence that Devan speaks of is of an unbiased subjective opinion he has acquired from his own experiences with me apparently, but by no means a clear and definitive enough of an indication to even place doubt in my mind that what was accomplished the week before with Parker couldn’t be duplicated in a more decisive manner this week. The beauty of being able to prove people wrong is what you gain from doing so. You gain the ire of the person or people you overcame because they strongly felt like this distinction or that was to be theirs, but instantly in that same moment, with the same token for some an inkling of respect comes to mind because the triumphant one, the one who nobody gave much of a chance to, and the one who strongly believed in themselves right from the very start and never lost hope because they were too damn stubborn to believe otherwise, stuck to their guns the whole time. Devan’s brain trust has allowed him to conceive fanciful notions so far ahead of schedule as if everything is destined to fall into place with blinding ignorance to any other possibility. This will prove to be costly in the end for Devan. In the end Devan will see one of the only achievements he has yet to accomplish elude him once again.

I see many changes on the horizon, and improvements for myself going forward, no doubt. Devan didn't need to tell me that I have a bright future here, because I've come to realize this for myself for quite some time now. Devan and others can view me as this dark horse or underdog, but as I already told Devan, I'm not losing this week. The only undertaking that I will be part of is me placing Devan Dubian’s shoulders down on the mat for three seconds and moving onto round three. Devan proceeds to show respect, but seems to be underestimating how significant of a win last week was, and what the potential carryover from that contest could attribute to this week in that ring. In Devan’s mind this tournament's end awaits his liege to commence at King of Elite with is coronation to follow. Devan Dubian claims to be far different from others I may have encountered or will encounter at some point, but his very shortsighted way of thinking seems to fall right in line with others I've encountered before to include his hall fame counterpart from last week. If Devan wants to take offense to that, some truth? Well that's tough, cause while not meaning any disrespect for the challenge I pose, I certainly took it that way with a few of his remarks toward me. I don't speak with lunacy. It isn't lunacy when I'm speaking the truth with every bit of conviction behind every word that leaves my lips.Calling it lunacy makes it easier to explain away the things Devan doesn't understand, and even if he does, he's simply choosing to wave it off. Tyler Parker beat Tyler Parker last week, and in more ways than one. You see, Devan Dubian gives me little tidbits of advice that may be beneficial for me, but Devan I'm sure realizes that everyone's path is shaped different. Nobody's path to greatness unfolds the same. From all the defining moments to the hardest of times in a career one can potentially look back and reflect on later, they ultimately will look back and see that they were able to live out a fulfilling life that they can smile upon. I don't know nothing apparently according to Devan Dubian. In his mind it's his world, and I'm just in it for a short time. Devan will find out how wrong he is. On Showdown Devan is going to see the calm that I bring to this match is well placed just like every blow I shall administer to Devan will be. I'm a nobody compared to Devan, but that will not be the deciding factor this weekend, and this is going to be the only time I need to prove it. I'm going to fight. It's going to be any given Saturday, mark my words.

Devan has not accomplished anything yet in this tournament. His words have brought about post I've reinforcement, with a bit of self righteousness, and typical veteran savvy. Through it all though I've remained steadfast and go into this bout with absolute confidence that I can do the unthinkable, and there is nothing really Devan can do or say to change my course. The way I see it. I just love to do this job. I love to perform whether those people want want to cheer me or not. But they will cheer for me, because they love someone who goes out and lays it all out there religiously week in and week out. I’m not the greatest, I’m definitely not better than Devan Dubian or the next person. I’m unique in my own way and I’m not going to pretend that I am the greatest. Instead, I’m going to go out there and fight my heart out like I have been doing through ALL the struggles. Devan, he's certainly not untouchable. On Showdown I’m going to gift him with something that he hasn't had to deal with in a while. I’m going to toss him one of his most “eye-opening” defeats in quite some time. I would keep my eyes open if I were Devan, because it's a new year, and it's time for a change. This...is only the beginning.

(Adrian is shown in the streets of Hartford, Connecticut wearing a disguise as not to be recognized. He is talking to a group of people.)

AC: All of you are big wrestling fans, especially fans of EAW. Today I want to ask you a few questions pertaining to EAW, more specifically Dynasty which will be held here Friday night. First what are your thoughts on Jacob Moore?

Person 1: Who? You mean Jacob Senn? He’s great.

Person 2: No, not Senn. I think he means Nasir Moore.

Person 1: Ohhhhh. Yeah he’s pretty cool too.

AC: No there’s actually a guy on the roster named Jacob Moore.

Person 3: Who the hell is that?

(Adrian looks at a card he has in his hand.)

AC: Huh… I thought these were opinion questions but apparently that was the correct answer. 10 points Gryffindor.

Person 4: I saw Jacob Moore last week….. I’m not sure but I think he’s mentally handicapped.

AC: What do you guys and girls think about his opponent this week in Adrian Christ?

Person 1: That guy’s amazing.

Person 2: He’s leagues better than Jacob Moore.

Person 3: How is that even a fair fight? Someone better call an ambulance for Jacob Moore.

Person 4: Seriously I think Jacob Moore is mentally retarded.

(Suddenly a random fangirl walks by.)

Fangirl: You sound really familiar. (She rips off the hat and fake mustache Adrian was wearing.) O–M–G I KNEW IT!!!!!!! I LOVE YOU ADRIAN!!!!!!!!!!!

(She hugs Adrian as the rest of the people there begin to take pictures and ask for his autograph.)

Person 4: Seriously though as a professional psychiatrist I think Jacob Moore is---

(The camera fades to black and then later turns back on and Adrian is sitting in his hotel room.)

You know I’ve been thinking on it and I think that guy earlier might have had a point. The guy who said he was a psychiatrist. See, before you said and I quote “I’d really like to know what you’ve accomplished.” But then you criticized me for bringing up past accomplishments even when you said first “I’ve been doing this for years and got titles and fame out of it.” Believe me I’ve checked and I didn’t see your name in any of the EAW Championship history either. So you either lied about not bringing up past accomplishments or you’re just fucking stupid. EAW management didn’t give you a challenge this week. No, challenges can be overcome. Challenges can be beaten, and you can’t beat me. You’ve got an impassible mountain on Dynasty this week. You can prepare and you can try as much as you want but it won’t make any difference. You see, you are like the wind. You’re annoying and you bring people’s lives nothing but trouble but no matter how the wind howls the mountain can never bow to it. No matter how much “better” you think you are than me you just can’t win, simple as that. Throughout all of that nonsense and hot air you were blowing you were right about one thing though, you are NOT in the same boat as me. You’re not even in the same ocean as me. You don’t hang on to any last bit of relevancy you have because you are not relevant, you never have been and you never will be. You’re just like all of the other weak minded people here and all over the world. All you do is get extremely lucky one week.… no just one day and you think you’re better than everyone. (In an annoying mocking voice) “Oh I could beat Xavier. I can beat you. I can beat everyone. All I do is tell the truth by saying all I do is win even though I’ve only been here 1 week. I’m a little bitch.” I don’t know what I did to upset management to put me up against such an entitled brat like you but I guess I could use a tune up match. God, you’re more of an annoying prick than Trump is and I didn’t think that was even possible. Go ahead keep running your mouth. Keep saying how bad you’re going to beat me because it will make it all the more worthwhile when I kick the ever living shit out of you and the rest of your split personalities.

The camera opens up to a bar in Hartford, Connecticut as EAW Wrestler Kelly Hackenschmidt sitting on a chair alone in a black leather jacket and jeans. His long hair out in the open as he drank from a glass of Jaegermeister. He continued his sip and set the glass back down on the table he sat on, he exhaled calmly, enjoying its taste before turning to the camera.

“You know, ever since my opponents have been revealed to me for my match to gain myself a shot at the Interwire Championship, I have found quite the trend. A trend that can only be summed up with one rather simple word that although I'd call rather big for some people it really is a word that has struck fear into so many people's hearts because they all fear turning it into habit, and that; is what I call Hypocrisy. Now, many things in EAW can be very well classified as hypocritical around here, people act as if they high and mighty yet instead they deceive their way to the top and don't have any regard for how they got there.”

“Take for example, Ross Vegas, he seems to think that I don't have the will to win, yet in fact that has been in every fibre of my being since I started here! Having won my first encounter with the likes of Mark Michaels and our co-opponent Lucas Johnson. Yet the more and more Ross Vegas realizes, that I think he has been perhaps the laziest since coming into the ring. It's odd too because I have dealt with Ross Vegas before, and I know exactly what he's capable of, yet I don't think he has exactly taken the right road to defeating me, you see, my last opponent had the strength advantage before, yet it brought him nothing, nothing but a dominant defeat against which lead me straight to the picture of things you have seen me in since coming into EAW! So Ross, get ready, you're about to learn that the theory of evolution is very much true in your case, and what is your lack of time adapt will very much be what makes you perish. And as for my name being similar to that of a girl’s, well, if you saw my real name, you’ll know it's considered what they would call a mouthful. But the only thing that's going to be a mouthful for you, are my boots when I’m done with business on Friday!”

“It comes in the form of Lucas Johnson, who calls the ring his house, yet in fact the last time he and I wrestled, I absolutely dominated him like I did to Mark Michaels last week, only difference is; while Michaels ate defeat through being hit with The Schmidt Kick, it was Lucas Johnson who became the very first victim of The Noose, a hold that I am sure I can put him in again, no matter the man’s weight, his neck is only going to feel that much more painful and my arm is going to be that much tighter around his chin as I keep him out of his victory that he claims he deserves, yet it was only recently that he even tried to get the effort on. Yet if that's Lucas’s best, then in the world's of an old friend of mine; Your best isn't good enough.”

“Now that brings me to the guy who I am going to admit will most likely be the biggest challenge for me in this match; the guy who everyone gets the name of wrong of and it offends him so dearly that he has to make a T-shirt to correct people, which only adds salt to his wound. Yep, it's Mongoose or Moonjuice Lightning McQueen. Now Moongoose is an interesting one, because he seems to assume that I’m just a bad day from becoming him, now if that's the case, he's just a couple good days from becoming me. But then again, if my brother was a weird guy obsessed with wearing gold and black face-paint and re-enacting Tim Curry’s role in the Rocky Horror Picture Show while singing some Nirvana track that doesn't have any meaning to what you yourself is saying; then I would want that good day to come sooner rather than later. But I’m afraid tomorrow night here in Hartford isn't going to be that night for the Moonjuice. Because on Friday Night, I’m gonna show you that you have practically made the exact same mistakes so many before you have. You make the same mistake everyone else makes; you underestimate me. You talk about your past traveling the world and sure, I may be the rookie in terms of experience in this match; but I have quite the similar resume to you Eh. You see, you only adopted the ring. I was born under it, raised under it! I did not see other sports until I was nearly a man! Yet even then other sports like Hockey did not intrigue me as much as wrestling did. Sure, I’ll root for the Detroit Redwings, Toronto Maple Leafs or Philadelphia Flyers, hell if it weren't for them packing up and leaving years ago, I would have probably rooted for Hartford Whalers! Yet still, I have been spending most my life behind this ring since I was thirteen years old and had my first match at age fifteen! I may be Twenty-five, but then again that is still impressive, so sure, I didn't emerge in the United States until Jakob DeLion discovered me on a trip in Mexico and offered me to train in the classic DeLion Dojo. So sure, you may have an edge there, yet right now there are nearly a thousand ways I can think of that can win this match, yet I only need just one! Only one I need and I am not going to reveal which I’ll use, but I know for a fact that the moment you underestimate me is the moment I know that I have won! Because here in EAW, I know for a damn fact what's at stake whenever I’m in that ring, and knowing that I’m risking it all each and every single week here on Dynasty, but that doesn't mean that the risk doesn't have a reward! And that reward, is going to be going into King of Elite live on Free-Per-view and staring across the ring from Drake Jaeger as I seek to cut his Interwire Championship short in front of ten thousand European born Schmidtheads who all stand with me as I face the fury of the storm!”

Kelly takes another sip to finish the glass, stands up and shows off his doc Martin boots to the camera.

“So Moongoose, be prepared, because all those crazy barbed wire stories you’ve had, it's all not going to end well when you're stuck in a corner and the bottom of my Hackenboots are going straight into your face from a middle rope! So don't blink, because if you do, then Schmidt’s going to hit the fan! And your big Brother’s gonna get a front row seat!”

Kelly grins as he looks down at the boot he has on display.

“Are you ready boots?”

He sets his boot down back on the floor.

“Start stomping!”

(Moongoose McQueen is sitting on a counter while Shimmer is adding stiches on McQueen’s arm. They had just completed a job. McQueen looks directly at the camera while blood is flowing down from his arm.)


 
McQueen: Well well well. I suppose if the big fat baby starts to cry and throw a tantrum, someone is going to start to notice. I was getting a little worried there, Lucas. Maybe the idea that no one cared about you or the fat jokes got the best of you. Maybe you decided to give up and go pursue a more realistic dream of competitive eater. But believe it or not, hearing you speak  puts me as ease, because I don’t know how I would feel if a fat joke is going to put you in a grave. But the great news is, you aren’t as pathetic as I thought. BUT HERE YOU ARE! READY FOR ROUND 2 OF “WHY LUCAS JOHNSON AIN’T GOING TO WIN TOMORROW NIGHT?!


 
Shimmer: Goose, you gotta stop moving so much. Your wounds are going to open…. Again!


 
McQueen: I’ll keep it down. ANYWAY. As I was saying. Lucas, I’ll have to commend you. You are a true inspiration to every little pudgy kid out there. You are an aspiration to every little chub who believes they can fly event at 300+ lbs. Life doesn’t really work that way, but inspiring none the less. But now it’s for me to tell you why its bullshit.


 
You see, you bring up this sad story about how you use to be bullied as a kid, an attempt to win sympathy points from people. But have you seen the way Ross Vega acts and dress? Did you know Hackensmidht has a girl’s name? Heck, are you aware of what my name is? *Points at Shimmer* Hell, have you seen this?
 


Shimmer: HEY!!


 
McQueen: Let me finish! …*clears throat* …. I MEAN LOOK AT THIS GUY! DON’T YOU JUST WANT TO CALL HIM A FREAK?! Don’t you just want to shove him in a locker room or give him a swirly in the toilet?   This is the type of guy that I’d sell to the circus!
 


Shimmer: You done yet? (d)


 
McQueen: This is the type of guy you don’t want to grow up to be?!! Yet here you are, complaining about being fat as a kid. But you know what Shimmer and I did, back then when we were bullied. The McQueens have a philosophy. Anything anyone gives you, you give back in ten folds. You throw an insult at me, I’ll snap your fuckin arm in two.  And just like that, the bully problem was resolved. I became the bully, the top of the food chain, and I’ve been a winner since. But don’t get me wrong, I’m not the type of bully that picks on others to boost my own ego, rather, when I do it, it’s in hope to see how one responds. After all, you know how powerful a man you are based on the fact your actions triggers something else. As you can tell, Lucas Johnson, I am a very powerful man. My voice alones made this match possible, and once again, all you can do is talk about how you’ve been here longer and should have the opportunity handed to you. Your worse quality isn’t in the fact that you are fat, it’s in the fact you are a passive weak man who will never amount to anything more. Note, the competitive eater joke I made earlier wasn’t a fat joke. It was a joke on how people will hand you things, and all you would do is take it and shove it in your body. You are weak willed and a slave to your own gluttony. And you want to know what else? When I beat you Friday Night, you’re going to take that loss like a champ. After all, that’s really the only thing you are good at. And I’m sure after I beat you, you’re going to put me on a list of people you want to take revenge on, but knowing that your contract is expiring and how much of a bitch you are, I’m not sweating.
 


Shimmer: Alright, goose. It’s done. The wound is sealed now please, if you want it to close properly in time for Dynasty, you need to not move so much.
 


McQueen: Thanks Dusty, despite the horrible things people say, you are a good brother. It’s crazy how you know all these things.
 


Shimmer: You know I’m a doctor, right? I got a degree and everything.
 


McQueen: Buddy, Mom had this talk with you before. You can be anything you set your mind to and don’t let those haters stop you.
 


(Shimmers breathes in…….. and then breathes out)
 


McQueen: You’ve been doing that a lot lately. You should see a doctor about that. But hey, did you see Ross Vegas interview, where he was talking shit about me and saying my name wrong on purpose? Well, Ross, I see you finally settled in a nice place. It looks pretty good. But now, you have to make a difficult choice. Come to Dynasty for a slim chance at winning a title shot for the Interwire champion, or give up your squatter rights by leaving that house. What will it be, Ross? Lose the house and risk losing everything, or keep the house, miss out on the opportunity? It doesn’t’ matter. At the end of the night, you’re still going to be… well….. you, and that sucks either way. Ross Vegas, the man who just can’t win at anything. Not this match, and most certainly not at life.
 


(McQueen’s wound opens and blood squirts all over Shimmers face and wig)


 
Shimmer: O-o-o-o-o-o-h MAN! I just got this wig! …..10 years ago.


 
McQueen: Can you… you know… stop the bleeding and patch me back up?


 

(Blood squirts all over the camera and the screen goes red)

Steven Brody stands backstage, a microphone in hand and wrapped in a well-worn hooded jacket and stained grey sweatpants. He looks down the lens of the camera with a smirk on his face.


"You don’t know who I am, which is horrible because I am going down in the history books. I’m a young gun. I’m a good-looking guy. And I’m very modest. However, there’s one distinct quality about me that usurps all of that. Something you can probably guess from the way I talk. Something you can guess from the way I hold myself.


I’m from Boston. My parents are from Boston. My PARENTS’ PARENTS are from Boston. And Boston is a fighting city. So, while we’re on history, let me educate some of you morons in attendance tonight.


You see, Boston was founded in the 1630s by the puritans, people fighting against the hierarchy. We were underdogs, and I remain so to this day. I’ve come to this company having bled for everything I’ve achieved. I had no handouts. I had no help ups. I pulled myself up by my bootstraps. I am Boston.


Fast forward 120 years and we find ourselves at the American Revolution. The British tried to own us, make us their slaves. The rest of America tried to talk it out, tried to reason with them. Boston burned their ships down. We’re fighters. We strike first and ask questions later. I don’t play the politics in this business. I let my fists do the talking. I am Boston.


In the 1800s, Boston became the intellectual, educational and medical hub of the country. Boston is tough but also well rounded. I’m an efficient striker, I can tap you on the ground. I’ve got an arsenal of modern and classical holds. I can beat you in every way at any given time. I am Boston.


And finally, in the era of the American Civil War, Boston was on the right side of history. We laid down our lives to end slavery, in service of justice. And that’s what I’m here to do tonight. I am laying down my health to gain justice after last week’s debacle. I am going to beat the living daylights out of ya. Be ready. Be scared. Because I AM BOSTON."


Steven lowers the mic, a sharp focus in his eyes. There’s only one goal tonight. To walk out this arena with the win.

For an approaching seven years, I have inspired a generation -- taken the business to new heights -- defined what it means to be a legend in the realm of sports entertainment.  Following my induction into the Hall of Immortals, the EAW has taken it upon themselves to make me their go-to-guy.  The individual they entrust to mold and shape the future face(s) of the company; like Mark Michaels and Kelly Hackenschmidt for example.  Alas neither man, despite their obvious talent, were capable of seizing the rare opportunity in front of them -- to ascend up the rankings with a victory over The Hellraiser to their name, but instead they were latest additions to the great toll of souls that have been laid bare around my dark throne; and now the EAW has given the same chance they’ve given them to El Irónico.  I’m not sure if the EAW has just gone soft -- as it seems as if they’re just letting any fool on the street with access to a pair of colorful trunks gain entry into their company -- or if they have run out of credible rookies for me to go against; either way I have to admit I’m a tad bit insulted.  Perhaps it’s my own fault for expecting so much out of an elite organization, but it only furthers the point I’ve been making lately.  This company has deteriorated -- rotted from the inside out and folk are carrying on as if it’s the new norm.  Well I’ve had just about all I care to take from this.  I made a vow to clean up this company and that is what I am going to do; corny acts like El Irónico have no business being here and I’ll prove it to you tomorrow night.  Let the pain I bestow onto him encourage others to step forward; to rid the EAW from this hive of pests; to purify this company and aid me in ushering in a new era -- a better era.
--
GloryBeToHades

We're talking about history, talkin' about history... one thing, yeah, that's on my mind, January the 13th in Hartford, Connecticut, at the XL Center, yeah. Let me tell you something... the way I am, and the super athlete that I am, nobody's gonna get in my way. A lot of people out there, they're gettin' in the Ross Posse... fans cheering on their feet, standing ovations yeah, a Ross Vegas match is more seductive than sex. OOOHHH YEAAAHHH. Kelly, Mongoose, Lucas... if you walk into this fatal four way match with Ross Vegas and escape with your life, you are a lucky, lucky, lucky man, yeah. That's what they're gonna be callin' you, cause comparatively speaking to Ross Vegas, you are NOTHING BUT GARBAGE.

Ross Vegas bends over and produces a garbage can.



Vegas pulls out a towel from the garbage can.

{The scene begins not with Elijah Stewart but the beautiful yet stoic face of his attendant, Alana. She is standing in front of a black background, holding a piece of paper, assumingly holding a prepared statement that she has been told to read.)

Greetings, patrons, competitors and staff of Elite Answers Wrestling. My client, the ferocious Elijah Stewart, has rejected any further interviews with EAW staff until further notice. This tactic is based on two guiding principles of Elijah’s campaign to, in his words, cleanse EAW through pain.

The first principle is that journalists and their ilk cannot be trusted to outline his vision or give him proper context when dealing with him. We have seen countless articles and heard numerous portrayals of this man as an insane individual. We refuse to simply kowtow to this portrayal. Elijah, while he shares a VASTLY different world view and view of competition in professional wrestling, is a sane and competent individual. He is of completely sound mind.

The second principle is that simply he is tired of adjusting his schedule to accommodate the media, other wrestlers and fans. He has his own schedule of travel, rest, preparation and training and has already grown tired of your interview requests, your demand for public appearances and everything else of the sort. As the footage following this message will demonstrate, when Elijah wishes to speak, he will do so on his own terms and at his own leisure, not yours.

That is the written statement. I now have a more personal statement intended for the man known as Drastik. I have no desire whatsoever to touch your “short sword” or anything else. To me you are about as interesting as flies swarming over freshly coiled dog shit. It’s quite saddening that with your repeated history of failed relationships that you have the audacity to send such lewd remarks my way, even in jest. You called my client the sexist but I think that you and your ilk, the ones who say things about others but making your own lewd and disgusting statements, are the real sexists. Just because I make an appearance on television doesn’t mean I’m fair game for your sexual advances or in any remotely interested in any way.

I’ll translate in case you have trouble understanding what was just said: Go fuck yourself.

And now, the words of my client….

 

[Elijah Stewart, future King of Elite and harbinger of untold carnage and desolation, has interrupted an EAW Voltage live event. A match between two young prospects to begin the show was promptly thrown out as Elijah cleared the ring of both men. Perching himself on one of the top turnbuckles like a hammock, Alana, his concierge, brings him a microphone to address the Western New York crowd.]

Alana: We have decided to interrupt this event to bring you the thoughts of the 2017 King of Elite tournament winner, Elijah Stewart. On behalf of my client I do apologize for the unfortunate assault of the two men who were about to compete for your entertainment. However, considering recent events, we feel that….

[Boos start to echo through the arena as a few members of security start to head towards the ringside area. Undaunted, Alana waits for the boos to settle down before continuing.]

We feel that there is no longer any point talking to the man named James Cobain himself. My client’s feeling, with which I am in agreement, is that bringing his message to you people is probably more prudent. It is our hope that you lend a receptive ear to the Denizen of Carnage and understand why he feels that the actions that will be taken on Sunday night are necessary.

[Elijah is given the microphone as he remains perched up on the ropes.]

Elijah: Just to be clear, I don’t give a tuppenny fuck about either of those two fucks down there on the floor, the security circling around this ring, or any of you in this arena. I came out here to appeal to you people for one reason and one reason alone. The man who most of you refer to as Drastik, who I will simply refer to as James, has been chosen to stand in front of me in this ring in a few days’ time. The outcome is not what is in doubt. I will beat him, there is nothing that any of you can say or anything that he says that can change that inevitable fact. What I am asking all of you to do though is to relay this message to James. I want you little smelly New Yorkers to walk up to him when you see him on the street. I want you to question his sanity by continuing to speak to me in the manner that he has and wonder how someone so beaten and downtrodden believes that he can beat me.

I’m pleased to see that he bathed and put on decent clothing before sending off his last little video package for you people to fawn over, especially you fat female cows sitting in the nosebleeds who probably have no interaction with real men and must touch yourselves to videos of your wrestling heroes. He also went about explaining away his cowardice and how he’s managed to “control” things. That he only is a monster when he HAS to be, or as he says “when it counts.” I don’t know about you idiots here, but EVERY fight matters to me. There is no reason to coast when you step between these ropes to do combat.

Maybe it’s because I’m still relatively new to this whole wrestling thing, but I see no reason to just come out and halfass some matches and try hard when all the glory is on the line. I find that selfish and insulting to people who have the balls to stand across the ring from me. Every opponent, every situation, every contest is to be treated with the absolute utmost reverence. Nathan Fiora and Aria Jaxon were not stepping stones to a higher plane. They were small rocks on the path I walk that must be moved. The man that you refer to as “Drastik” is no different. He is not special and this match is not special because he is a former world champion and this is a tournament that YOU people hold in high regard.

He is another obstacle to be moved, nothing more, nothing less.

I treat my opponents with equal disdain and have an equal intention of maiming. There is no light bulb that goes off in my head to tell me “OH, this match matters more!” Every conquest, no matter how small or large, must be made utilizing maximum force and effort at all times. I think that it’s called “The Process” according to some football coach. I train the same, prepare the same, and fight the same regardless of opponent. Is this a lack of “Control”? Is this shortsighted? Considering that so far no one has been able to put my shoulders down to the mat for a three count, I don’t really feel a need to (he smirks a bit before chuckling) DRASTICALLY change my routines. Do any of you feel this way? Hmm?

Back to this control he speaks of….is this why he loses championships that he’s earned and then disappears for months, sometimes even longer at a time when he is bested? Is that control? Is the control that he speaks of the fact that even as a member of the Illustrious Hall of Fame that he is an afterthought when it comes to being the greatest talent of his generation? What is this control that he talks so much about that he claims that he has and I don’t? I’m not seeing it. All I see is one person making far too much of me elbowing a referee in the face when he himself was in far more fault in the situation than I am! It’s no different than the tabloids in the UK screaming that some footballer can’t control his emotions the one moment he gets sent off. People like him, people like YOU, try to micromanage and overanalyze the existence of others when you can barely manage to make your own way in life….

[The booing intensifies a bit and some fans start to throw garbage into the ring. Alana does her best to evade the falling debris will Elijah remains perched and relaxed before someone speaks over the sound system.]

PA: Attention fans, PLEASE do not throw any objects into the ring. All fans caught throwing debris in the ring will be escorted out of the building….

Elijah: Why am I not surprised that this is the reaction from people with the mental capacity and understanding of toddlers, hmm? Are you mad because someone is out here actually telling you the truth instead of filling your heads with nonsense? There are a lot of differences between James and Myself, but I’m starting to realize that this may be the most glaring and obvious:

HE will lie and flatter and deceive and joke in an attempt to win you over with his good humor. He is an entertainer, a deceiver, and a liar. He is SCUM.

I will be the first one to admit that I am scum too. But I don’t lie to you. I don’t exist to entertain you and put on a show. I do not squabble, flatter and deceive. I don’t attempt to patronize you to win your favor or the favor of any of the incompetent invalids backstage who claim to pull the strings.

THAT IS CONTROL!

This man compares himself to a cancerous tumor, a concept that I find interesting and amusing more than anything else. The same man who chided me for sexist behavior takes on the name of a disease that kills people all over the world, even small children and the elderly. What gives him the right to call himself a bringer of devastation, sorrow and death anyway? Because he beat up a few people like Liam and Carlos who are sitting in the retirement home? Because he USED to be able to rise to the occasion in the bedroom and in the ring? Because he won a few brutal matches?

What petulant nonsense.

I see the disease that James embodies and it embodies a lot of the Voltage roster. That disease, if it is a cancer, can be described with one trait that makes it worthy of my disgust: Weakness.

Yes…weakness. Weakness takes on many forms. He has displayed obvious physical weakness in the lead up to this match with his previous performances. Sure, he managed to best two lesser men in his first-round match, but as a veteran of fights with more than one opponent can tell you, most of that victory has to do with luck and the mistakes of your enemies other than your actual skill. He is weak in spirit as well, displayed by his need to remind me that he can “win when it counts”. TRUE winners don’t need a carrot dangled in front of them to unleash their full ferocity. Every time out counts. Whether it’s a fight against Liam Catterson in front of thousands and watched by potentially millions of people at home or a street fight with some random drunk at a pub, winning every fight should be at the cornerstone of a fighter’s ethos.

Some of you must be wondering by now, this disease…this Weakness. Does it have a cure? Can it be eliminated? It does. Me. I am the cure that these times require, to purge Voltage and EAW as a whole eventually of this disgusting and crippling disease. I am a doctor in this sense, my hands acting as the surgeon knives and chemotherapy necessary to rid the carcass of Elite Answers wrestling of this disgusting, crippling mentality.

The final operation is just a few days away, James. You can keep running your mouth about what you’ve done in the past and what I have yet to prove, but when you stand across from me in this very ring, you’re going to realize how silly it was to even think that you could hang.

Welcome….to your DEATH!

(“The World” by Jonathan Young begins to play as Elijah takes his leave of the ring, Alana following close behind.)

SHOWDOWN I

"Ready Or Not"

---The scene opens outside of a hotel near Royal Farms arena and Terry Chambers limo pulls up to the front entrance and the driver runs and lets Terry Chambers out and Terry Chambers steps out and puts his jacket on and the driver hands him his bag and Terry Chambers begins to roll it into the hotel lobby and a EAW cameraman gets in his face and Terry Chambers begins speaking---

Terry Chambers: What the fuck man! Do you have anything else to do in your life? Anything fun? Family or friends to hang out with? Guess not so I might as well make your day interesting a bit. 2016 is finally behind and what a rocky road it has been for me. I defeated Starrstan right in the middle of the ring, OMERTA changed the direction of my career, I ended JJ Silva's career but at the same time I only lasted 2 seconds in Grand Rampage and that is where my career hit the lowest point it has ever been, I came up short in many battle royal matches where a #1 contendership was on the line or a championship especially at Pain For Pride when I was the runner up in the 24/7 battle royal match to a guy that I was better than that night and he's not even in EAW anymore! But I made sure I closed out 2016 with a huge bang by almost ending the career of EAW's underdog darling Chris Elite by hitting him with Chambers of Pain right on to the steel chair. Chris Elite thought a underdog story was going to happen and thought that if you had the fans support you can do anything and I brought him back down to reality and that is the way it is going to stay here in 2017! What I mean by that is nobody is going to think they are going to pull out the miracle against me or think of me as the guy who lasted only 2 seconds in Grand Rampage, they are going to look at me as the guy who has been on a complete rampage since that WarGames match and it is only a matter of time when I take my rightful place as the top guy here in EAW. While everybody was out partying New Years and getting drunk and stuffing their fat ass faces during EAW's holiday break you know what I was doing? I was in the gym and watching and studying film almost 12-15 hours a day. While everybody here on the roster was getting fatter...I was getting BETTER!

---Terry Chambers begins to speak again as he waits in line at the front desk in the hotel lobby---

Terry Chambers: The last 3 or 4 months of 2016 was just kickstarting my rise all the way to the top and it continues this coming week on Showdown when I go one on one with Lioncross. Come on really? I am actually insulted that I am still this low on the card facing someone who ain't even worthy enough to carry my damn bags! So let me get this straight, I defeat Chris Elite in convincing fashion in a Last Man Standing match and a few weeks later he is placed in the King Of Elite while I am stuck facing Lioncross on the bottom of the damn card? I have no fucking idea what game Murrow is playing with me but it's a game he is not going to win. I know he still has some animosity towards me cause of the whole OMERTA thing and he is trying to get me to slip up against a scrub and hope I quit but that never happened so he thought since maybe Chris Elite was on a losing streak I would think it's an easy win and then Elite defeats me and I end up looking like a fool but that never happened either! Now the next part of his game first off not putting me in that King Of Elite, the roll I'm on I would have that damn thing in the bag so Murrow either didn't want a spoiler of who was going to win or or he just doesn't like me...it has to be one of the two. Next he puts me up against a guy who should have just left when all the signs were pointing to him that he should have...Lioncross. Lioncross is nothing but just another twig that I am going to snap in half with ease. I am overlooking Lioncross cause he is absolutely nothing....he is absolutely no threat what-so-ever to me...hell he's not even a threat to a damn Fathead sticker or a cardboard cutout. That guy has been on a serious decline since he won the briefcase at Pain For Pride. Who the hell can't hold on to a damn briefcase? And Lioncross obviously don't care one bit about becoming a world champion because if he did he would have never lost that Tables Ladders and Chairs match. If it meant everything to him I don't care what happened to him....HE WOULD HAVE WON THE MATCH! Last week on Showdown I make my case known that I am going to be a force to be reckoned with and announce my intentions to become a star on this show and what was Lioncross doing? Trying to form...a team...over pizza I guess? I say oh well another easy win for me but at the same time it is just another week where God's Gift to Wrestling's talents are just being wasted. It is only a matter of time when I wreck through everybody Murrow puts in front of me and he will have no choice to put me in the main event and let me thrive and make him money to fill that thin wallet of his, it's thin because he doesn't have the best damn talent he's got in the main event but don't worry......he'll realize it soon enough.

---Terry Chambers takes his key and heads over to the elevator and as the elevator door shuts the camera fades to black---

Voltage promo #2

Thursday, Niagara Falls, New York, 5:40 p.m.

(The scene opens on a shot along the Niagara river, where the American fall is situated fairly close, while the Horseshoe fall is further out in the distance by comparison. All is quiet as the sun hangs low in sky. Only the sounds of the river's running fill the air. The camera pulls back to reveal Solomon Caine looking out over the water.)

Caine: "May these waters cleanse those who are worthy. May those who have served be soothed by them. And may those who have rejected the message of those who are coming, boil alive within them as they seek refuge from the flood of fire that shall befall those earth. For those who are weak, and vain, and sick, and every other form of heathen is deserving of their wrath, for they have twisted the masses and perverted the true nature of this life. And so on the day of the glorious reign, they shall be scrubbed away like the filth they are! And in the kingdom to come, their disease shall no longer afflict the hearts and minds of men. No, for when my masters take their crown, they shall reveal all to those who have served. All those who see.


Seeing is believing Is it not? Would any man doubt the power these waters possess when they shaped and moved the earth? Or how one would most certainly meet their doom if they should become trapped underneath and dragged down the falls to a rocky crypt? None can deny the sacrifice of Kenny Drake. Nor did I doubt when I witnessed the great and terrible day of my masters coming. So How is it then that Mike Showman doubts his very eyes when evidence is brought before him of my masters' power?!?

Did he not hear his same words he speaks being uttered from the mouth of Drastik? The same man who had fooled himself with thoughts that his title would save him from the power of my masters, before he was laid low by them Thru you Showman and that Wretch Jon McAdams! And low and behold as it was McAdams Who himself was struck down again by their might last week. How do you not see that you are headed down the same road of ruin just as they are?

No, for even now you deny them just as you always have. Even though you have done their will without even realizing it, You again claim my words are theatrics, empty and hallow. That I am a deceiver. But when the time came it was not you who had vanquished me, no you were cast out before I was, you could not best me. So what right have you to claim to be king of any, for if I, who is but the lowly messenger, could see to your downfall not once but twice, what makes you think I could not do so again? For all your boasting of your skill it has not earned you anything of worth. For all your claims of superiority, all you have done is capture pawns. All the while I had slayed he who would call himself the king of wolves! How foolish you are to claim any crown, how confounded you must be to think that all I have spoken is but a specter that does no harm to those who pass by it.

I tell you now that bring forth not lies made to destroy, but truth, their truth, that those who hear their calling may awaken and cast off the oppression and fallacy that this world has enslaved them with since their birth by men such as yourself and your wicked bloodline. I speak of salvation, and you dare to doubt? Why? Because I be made to be proven worthy with each day as their coming draws closer?! That I must be purified from that which hinders your mind and understanding, and cleansed from the filth these heathens have corrupted the masses with?! That is why I walk the path they have chosen. That is why I submit myself to the testing they place before me. THAT IS WHY I MUST DO THE THINGS THEY COMMAND THAT TEAR ME APART WITH ANGUISH!!!"

(Caine inhales deeply with his head in his hands. A pained expression painted on his face.)



Caine: "For with each task I am made stronger. With each sacrifice I am made more whole, and with each step I take towards their kingdom, I am made worthy of reward that awaits at the end of ages. So Why do you doubt? Why do you still doubt? I tell you it is Because no one heeds the words of strangers who call out to them in warning till it is too late. You know not the ones who sent me, that is why you disregard their words. That is why you mock them, and challenge their strength..."


(Caine regains his composure, his expression turns from anguish to aggression, as he points out to the water.)


Caine: "you are as the fools who gartered themselves in barrels, Just as you clad yourself in a persona of greatness, and thought no harm would come to them. You shall meet the same fate they did. You may walk away with your life, but with your downfall your body shall be broken, and the pain of that shall permeate thru every fiber of your being, mind, body, and soul, shall linger within you till you have met your ultimate fate on the day of the glorious reign.

Mock me if you will Showman, label me a harlot for your own amusement. Question my worth of being their servant, for it is the question I must answer with each conquest, and victory, and failure. Test me for that is your purpose, that is why our fates are intertwined, for you are brought before that I may be made ready for the flood of fire that shall befall this earth. And I am brought before you that you might see their works first hand as I rend your flesh and shatter your bones. That all whom follow you might witness them themselves and turn their eyes from you to the ones who have sent me, and bow before them. Such has been whispered in my ears with the sweetest voices. How they told of your decimation, how they spoke so beautifully of your destruction, how great that moment shall bbbbbeeeeeeee.

Do as you may this week, rejoice or lament. Boast or cower. for whatever you choose, your fate is one that shall remain unchanged, your doom one that cannot be avoided. Blindly you shall stumble upon it, and before you even realize it, you shall be screaming for mercy. But just as you have turned a deaf ear to this warning, so shall they refuse to listen to your pleading and grant you even a minuscule portion of mercy.


Oh how the fire cannot arrive soon enough. How I yearn to see the look of horror upon your face as the flames eat you alive. How I shall rejoice when your blood flows like this river thru the streets! And the flesh to which you have spent your life in pursuit of its pleasures, how I will delight as it chars and becomes not more than dust scattered to the wind. Heheehehehehheee..."


(Caine's wicked, evil laughter comes to an abrupt Halt, and in its place rest a look of contempt.)

Caine: "DO YOU STILL REJECT THEM?!?! WILL YOU NOT LEARN BEFORE IT IS TOO LATE?!? Why must you make me do what I do not wish?! you have have made yourself blind, so they are sending me to claim your eyes by gouging them from your skull! You mock them with your insolent tone and blasphemous words, and now they shall rip your venomous tongue from your mouth! You have numbed your senses with the pleasures of this earth, and deadened them with your arrogance, and now you shall watch as they turned to nothingness! And Most foul of all, you seek to steal their crown, their glory which they righteously deserve. So now THEY SHALL HAVE ME TEAR YOUR GODDAMN HEAD FROM YOUR NECK YOU EVIL BASTARD!!! ALL THE WOE AND MISFORTUNE THAT SHALL BEFALL YOU HAS BEEN WELL EARNED! AND THEY SHALL STAND FOR IT NO LONGER!"


(Caine's body langue tenses, his jaw hangs loose, and his eyes glaze over as he stands for a long, uncomfortable moment staring out just past the camera in silence. Slowly Caine begins to nod his head yes.)

Caine: "The time is soon at hand. The perpetrations must be made. The sacrifice shall be held at the appointed hour, and with it Showman shall see. This is the word of the ones who have sent me. And all that they have told me, it must be so."


(Caine walks out of the frame. The camera pushes in slightly to focus on the rushing waters off in the distance before fading to black.)


The end.