(The scene opens up differently from all the others. Instead of Drastik sitting in a hotel room in his pajamas, he is seated at a chair in a well-lit room. A spotlight hangs down over his head as he sits decked out in a full suit, hair brushed back behind his ears. He twirls a glass of alcohol in his palm before taking a sip. The glass is set down and Drastik leans forward, looking at the camera without any sort of funny business showing at all. This is what Elijah wanted anyways—a discussion. So why not have a formal discussion, just so he and I can see eye to eye? Drastik wipes his hand over his chin before speaking in a low voice.)
 
Alright, Elijah. I understand your frustration in having to deal with who I am and what I represent, especially when you’re expecting some sort of daunting, intimidating, rugged message from me as soon as you here about our match being booked for next week. When you look at a list of accomplishments that I’ve accumulated over the last near-decade of my career, when you see them spread over years—consistently, evenly—you imagine that whoever this man is must, in fact, be a monster among men. There must be something that separates this guy from the rest if he was able to continue coming in and dominating competition. Maybe he’s a got the build of a guy like Methuselah or HRDO that automatically gives him an advantage. Maybe he’s got a sharp tongue, showcasing his place as one of the most dominant wordsmiths in this industry like Y2Impact or Jaywalker. Maybe he has a trained background in professional fighting like Starr Stan. Maybe he’s demented. Maybe he doesn’t feel pain. Maybe he has some obvious trait that sets him apart. But then you look at me, six foot three, two hundred twenty five pounds soaking wet, cracking jokes with boxes of Lucky Charms and makeshift kilts, talking about my best friend Ahren Fournier, and you wonder what you’re missing. You, of course, made the mistake in believing that this is a sign that I don’t actually have the capacity within me to succeed in spite of everything you’ve seen in read. Even when you look at the most recent footage, you claim that what you’re seeing from me is just a cover—that I’m not actually that good, that I’m just faking it to make people think that I’m the same guy that stood tall in the first ever Glass Walls match where I left my opponent shaking from the amount of blood he lost at my hand. And maybe you were right about that, Elijah—I’m not that “Rated R Shaman of Sexy” that stepped between those four glass walls and walked through the shattered remains at Hardcore Champion. You know why I’m not that person anymore, Elijah? Because even when I thought I had the control—that my ability was all I needed to have control—I had no idea what was coming my way. Over and over again for the next couple months, I had people blindsiding me because for the first time in my life, I was experiencing what it felt like to have a target placed on my back. Sure it may not show in the history books, but I consistently found myself in situations where some third party got involved because they wanted a piece. You had guys like Mr. DEDEDE run down and steal the Hardcore Championship without even pinning me to take it. When I was World Heavyweight Champion for the first time, I was blindsided by attacks from people I wasn’t even expecting to come after me. I felt targeted. I felt like the system was built to target me. There was never any control.
 
Fast forward to 2013 when I made my return under the name Drastik without anyone having any idea who I was. You may not have seen the same gruesomeness that you saw in Glass Walls years ago, but what you saw was a viciously focused individual who was always a step ahead of whoever was coming after him. I outsmarted the system that had seemed to victimize me for months of my career. And in a matter of two months I became Answers World Champion. I saw every action coming before it came. There was no blindsiding, no surprises. When the company decided that they had lost their own control of me and decided to kick me out as their golden boy, I was fully prepared for it and aligned myself to win my championship right back in Glass Walls. You see, Elijah, I don’t exactly know how much film you watched or what you watched, whether you replayed clips of me diving off of the titantron at the original Pain for Pride or me holding hands and professing my love to Sabina. But if you haven’t already, I urge you to take a look at my last Glass Walls match. Sure, in the months prior, you didn’t see me lighting myself on fire or wrapping barbed wire around my fists to beat up guys like Liam Catterson. But when it came time to rise up in a situation where I didn’t even need to be pinned to miss out on something that I wanted, I made sure to show that same level of violence that you keep saying I don’t have anymore. That blood thirst doesn’t go away; but what I’ve learned over the years that I’ve been in this industry is that when a guy shows that all he has to bring to the table is that violence, what he really is relaying is that he’s a one-trick pony. He’s showing his hand before all the cards have even been laid out on the table. He’s letting everyone know beyond certainty that he is someone that can be taken advantage of and blindsided over and over and over again. The rage surely builds, but there’s really no threat. If I stayed the way I was when I first started my career, I would have intimidated some people sure, but I would have never been a serious threat.
 
(Unlike usual, Drastik continues to keep a straight face throughout everything he is saying. His tone fluctuates, but his voice remains relatively steady. At no point does he look away from the camera. He doesn’t acknowledge the man behind the camera or fix his hair or check his phone or even reach back for his drink. He pauses to lick his teeth and then his lips, swallowing hard as if he’s contemplating how to explain what he means to Elijah, then finally speaks again.)
 
There’s a reason why no one referred to me as a cancer when I first started my career, and it’s not just because I was a yes-man backstage that wanted to be everyone’s friend. The threat I possessed back then—similar to the threat you possess right now—is like a common cold. Sure, it’s annoying and a nuisance and sometimes it gets the best of you, keeping you tucked away in bed, taking shots of NyQuil for a couple of days until you can stomach some saltines. But you know that colds can be dealt with one way or another. A disease though, Elijah, isn’t so easy to get rid of. It works silently, not showing the signs of its growth as it manifests. And when it finally rears its ugly head, it’s usually too late to do anything about it. This company was diagnosed in 2013 after months of not even realizing that there was a sickness growing inside of it. It didn’t recognize that the landscape was weak and that something could come in to infect it so easily, but when it finally did, there was nothing that could be done. I overtook this company and made it into a shell of what it was before. I know that the people upstairs felt disgusted by the fact that I had walked away with both the Interwire and Answers World Championships, but there was nothing they could do but fake their way into thinking that everything was as good as it was before. They brought in their own fake “new” championships to crown new guys and praise them as champions just like it had been done since the first EAW show in AWF. To an extent, people believed the act. They forgot about the disease, especially since I had done what I wanted to do and was gone again because I saw no reason to continue. But like any deadly disease, as I’m sure you’re aware, Elijah, when it comes back, it’s even more daunting than before. Diseases morph with time. They are seemingly vanquished before coming back and being immune to treatment. And the mere mention of that cancer being back takes the wind out of everyone’s sails because they know that they just narrowly escaped the last time there was any mention of sickness. I am the sickness that has returned to this company. I am the disease that has morphed with time. There is nothing—I repeat, NOTHING—that can stop me from bringing this company to its eventual fate whether it believes it still has fight in it or not.
 
So no, I didn’t come back with a shopping cart of broken glass bottles, two by fours, lighter fluid, and a barbed-wire baseball bat. But that wasn’t because I didn’t have it in me. It’s because I have so many other cards to play for you before I have to even tease playing that one. After all, Elijah, if you’re getting this worked up over my jester card, how do you think you’re going to fare when anything else is played in front of you? If there’s anyone here that should be disappointed, it should be me, because while I was told to expect some menacing prison thug, what I’m seeing is a guy who can’t really keep his cool, can’t keep his focus. If you’re really about making Voltage unbearable—and trust me, as an aside from my seriousness, I’ll tell you that Voltage is already quite unbearable—then I’d suggest some sort of refocusing. Because you’ll surely have your moments where you beat guys senseless and leave them trembling on their back in the center of the ring, don’t get me wrong. But the difference between how you do that and how I do that is that I do it when and where it counts. This Sunday is one of those times where it counts. And whether all it takes is to bring out a box of Lucky Charms to make you trip on your own shoelaces or I’ve got to give you some more footage to look over in the future and study up on what sets me apart from the rest of the guys, I’ll gladly do what it takes. No, I don’t have the build or the slick tongue or the background that those other legends have. But the reason I rank among them is because of how unrelenting I am in every single facet of that word. Diseases don’t die. Men do. And I’m going to show you just how human you really are this Sunday when I decimate you at what you consider your “own game” before cracking jokes about it in the days after. That’s the kind of man I am. That’s why I continue slipping through the veins of this company with such ease. You can be cast away, but this cancer—just like any good king—will reign forever.
 
(For the first time in the video package, Drastik flashes a smile—only a smirk. He leans back to grab his glass and take a sip again from his drink, but makes sure not to break eye contact with the camera lens. The camera moves backwards, showing the image of Drastik becoming smaller and smaller until all that can be seen is the dot of light where the spotlight shines. The screen holds the image of the speck of light in the center of the screen before cutting to black. After a moment, solid, white text flashes across the screen.)
   
SAIL

Chris, you seriously think I’m concerned with you going soft? You make it sound like you use to run these streets. In which timeline, on what earth, or even which dimension, did I ever hold you hardcore enough in my standards to a point I would notice that you’ve softened up? In your confusion inducing babbling, you brought up what destroys your own argument without me even having to go look up dirt. Your biggest mistake was bringing up our past tag match, reminding me that Hexa-gun had multiple confrontations with your old crew, which I imagine was the time you were apparently oh so tough despite getting tossed around by us anytime we ran into you. Shit was like the new Pokemon, you predicted it perfectly acting like a bunch of posers. You guys were Team Skull. a crew filled with rejects, and the only real threats were the emo who didn’t want to be there and the chick who thought you were all morons, and if I’m not scared of Gla-Diemos or Plu-Cailin, I sure as hell ain’t sweating a grunt. Hell, one might think a question is necessary, were you ever brave enough to be bad, or were you just messing with people because you had a crew? See I’m Jones, bad to the bone, Hexa-gun or by myself I’m still messing with people, either by clowning them or putting them in body bags, but you Chris? All of a sudden without the numbers, you don’t want to play enemy of state game no more, you want to be the upstanding type, you start kissing up to the EAW fans!

They say a good man does what he does out of compassion and what’s in his heart, I say a good man does what he does for approval and to pat himself on the back for playing as people say he should. That ain’t the hustle, that sure as hell ain’t royalty, say what you will about me Chris but I do my own thing brazenly. I know I piss you off, I know I get you all worked up until you start ranting about beating me without remorse, I bring that out of everyone because that’s just what I do. You think you’re the first person to say I talk big? Oh hell yeah, I talk a big game, I do it because I know I can back it up against you chumps. How many people on this roster do you think curse my name? They still do so because they never felt like they ever got to deliver the consequences they feel I deserve, because I’m too good to let it happen. I’m too slick for the likes of you to bring about this remorseless beat down you’ve got visualized in your twisted fantasies, reality is way more realistic than what is conjured in the reflection of your hopes. There is nothing imaginary about this castle of mine where your heads will be hung from, it is metaphorical sure, but existent nonetheless, behind the very mist that so many have fallen to when coming to hunt down Tiberius Jones. If you don’t want to watch your step, and hang onto your head, that’ll be a shame you carry on your own.

You may consider yourself some sort of gift from…..”God”, like so many before you, but it would be best if you came to understand you’re about to come face to face with the beast, pilgrim. As is said, lead through the mist by the milk light of moon, all that is lost is revealed. You will come to understand what my castle is made of on Showdown, the broken wishes and tales of my enemies that make up my walls will be very clear to you once yours become just another brick put in the place for the grand unveiling. I like that empty speaking loose tongue of yours, it is very easy for people in the future to drown out your ramblings and fill the void left with the pain they’ll notice that’ll be in your voice, it’ll tell them that you had to be dealt with by the next king. They will look to you, and they will see what befalls those that get in my way, and those who simply do not obtain my favour. Yes, a story that’ll be retold throughout the ages, to the point it should be its own play it’ll hit people so much to the core, The Strike of Midnight to say goodnight Baltimore.

It is rewarding to just sit at the top composedly whilst the rest of the lot goes berserk over the situation. At my inexperienced age, the only way I felt I could be noticed in this company was to emphatically shout over everyone else and put my career at risk more times than anyone else. It was only later in my career that I found out that being calm and temperate about the situations beside me was far more beneficial than making a dunce out of myself. However, that only came after years of being put down continually. That why it is interesting to see someone of your stature come into own so early in your career, Rex McAllister. I am however not all that surprised because I had already realized the potential after the first time I met you inside the ring. You carry this stigma with you that conveys to me that you are bound for massive things in this company. And regardless of how the bearings ultimately ended up going down, you were able to overcome the legend known as Tyler Parker last week. And I know regardless of how simple and pretentious you might be, there comes a slight sense of assurance in one self that cannot be opposed. This certainty increases especially for an elite in your situation who has admitted that he has not done anything or won anything remotely immense because that lack of grandeur gives you a special feeling in which you feel invincible. You just grasped victory over someone so notable and now, face off against someone from similar bearings so you have no reason to think that you cannot pull off the same kind of victory. But as you have already touched surface on, I am not someone who is easily correlated to with anyone else in this company. I will never present a situation of an easy win to my opponents because I do not believe in such a thing. I will also not belittle my opponents or place them on an invincible pedestal because each of them carries a different aura, distinct principles that I simply cannot group together into one circle because I am so presuming over my abilities. And at the end of the day, I am willing to concede damage done to me in a battle but never a war. It was not that your previous opponent was less ready for you, he just never felt the need to be prepared for a McAllister that he has presumably never heard of. Whereas I do not see you as any different, in stead for an example, any different from the contenders that I faced in world championship matches or equally difficult matches. This is not to put you in an audaciousness plight because I would still willingly face any of those contenders any day over yourself in terms of pure chemistry but rather an affirmation of the kind of persona that I bring every single time I enter the ring. And you have already earned my respect once in defeat to me and as much as I above all like to believe in the feel good stories of the long-shot achieving the improbable, I gravely need to claim this crown once and for all to justify my hierarchical reign claim of this company. 

And one would think that I have already established such a deed of a claim in this company; that I would not need another bolster event to validate such a deed for me but in my mind, I cannot pause for a single second. I am gracious of all the opportunities presented to me knowing that they could very well be the very last in this company and it does not hurt to be recognized as someone who will not have only reigned victorious in the Grand Rampage but also the King of Elite. I have done so much for this tournament in my time here, I have given it is best duels against both The Great Sekaiichi and Lannister alongside Jacob Senn to never be fully rewarded for all my testimonials. This is me trying to liquidate all of the torment and sweats that I have put into this tournament in the form of a crown on my head. And there is no personal vendetta here Rex, it is wonderfully pleasing to be complimented once in a while rather than have aimless shade thrown at me without any real proof of back but be at peace knowing that every shot I will deliver to you will be a lesson being taught by me to you for a preferable future. I did not just pick out of a random lot to fight in my stead against Nico Borg a few weeks ago Rex, I placed my full trust in you to see the match out for me. The same way I fully trust you to make this King of Elite one more classic match for me despite what the others may think but there simply is not a direct explication where I can see you walking out of this one the victor. You have hit the bare minimum of your potential because even in your courageous fight against the National Elite champion, you were not able to finish him off. And I have been easily able to do it effortlessly now. But that bareness shows visibly in your adolescence; choosing to fight without anguish on side or waiting far too long when you should be attacking. There is calmness and then there is prospect of lunacy but all of that experience will come within time for you Rex McAllister. Until then, you can appreciate the luck you were struck by to have not only faced me twice but also be given whispers of advice by me to reach to the top. Through it all, you are still ultimately playing into my hands and given my capability, one chance is all I need to end the game once and for all.

Much appreciated that you chose to play a part in my undertaking
But now I must move on to make my claim of these lands
And become the next King of Elite finally.

Carp Diem. Seize the moment. I've spoke of this often enough, I believe, since I've been here. That's all I try to do with every opportunity that comes my way. I leave nothing on the table when it comes to stepping between those ropes. When I'm in there my pursuit for victory is relentless. I liken the constant efforts I put forth each time I get a chance to perform to that of NBA great Allen Iverson, one of the biggest little men to ever grace the court in the pro basketball. Iverson always said he played every game as if it were his last. He did as he said for his entire NBA career and left a lasting impression on people like me. His competitiveness and tenacity always made him one of the most dynamic and exciting figures in all of pro basketball. It was easy to root for someone like him once he stepped out on that platform to perform. I feel like in wrestling I compete with that same drive every time I get a chance to go out there and show my worth. My tenacious never-say-die competitive attitude always gives me a fighting chance just like when Iverson played. When on the court in the game, especially in the clutch moments, Iverson always gave his side a chance to win. Little did he know probably that he was living by carp diem. To him there was no tomorrow better than that day, that moment in time as he was living it. If Devan Dubian wants that crown so bad he had better be willing to do everything that he knows how to and harder than at any other King of Elite from years past if he wants this match, because for me I'm going all out and just like with Tyler Parker everything I do will count. I've endured quite a few setbacks since I've been here. I don't need to go into any specifics about that with someone like Devan who probably understands what a great deal of those specifics entail by now. I'm not thinking ahead, I refuse. That would be a mistake. I won't think ahead as Devan had already with his words last week going into his bout with Nico. Devan believes it's his time, but this week I'll be the hurdle that Devan won't be able to scale, the mountain he’ll be unable climb to the top of, or the foundation he won'the be able to rattle. This elitist is going on to round three, and he's doing it with such an indifference of what repercussions could follow. It's like I told Tyler last week. I refuse to be pawned off as a mere foil to give way for anybody else's triumphs, because on Showdown I will be the one that leaves that ring in triumph. I will be the one that will put himself in the driver's seat of round three, because what's going to happen so Devan Dubian is going to make a fatal mistake just like all those opponents did throughout the career of Iverson in thinking that he was done along with his team when time was dwindling down and things looked for be very bleak. Devan is going to find a way to mess it all up for himself as he has done in the past. I won't be making no such mistake, oh no. See, I will hold up the brakes this time. I will be slow and methodical in my approach and match every Devan Dubian Bleeding Edge. I will have an answer and a counter for everything that man does. This time will be different.

Your first big mistake will be your last.

Devan Dubian is by no means satisfied with his current status, but he doesn't lust for gold like Tyler Parker. Devan wants this to add to his already outstanding resume. However, don't mistake my assessment of where I know Devan’s mind is at for envy. I'm out to seek my own glory here in the Land of the Elite. Besides, where's the glory when you are repeating what others have already done? The way I see it, Devan Dubian is approaching this bout with his mind clear, and his eyes on the prize. He's not going to overlook me, but he doesn't see anyone acting as a deterrent to his path that leads to the throne. He's been beating the competition left and right, aside from Road To Redemption, since he came to Showdown right before the Supershow Rite of Passage last year so he has no reason to believe otherwise. I've failed at almost every big event anyways. The only thing Devan has to combat against is the simple fact that more than probably anyone in this tournament is that I put a loss behind me better than anyone, and use it as fuel and a motivator to propel myself to greater heights and to become stronger and stronger. The passion that I wrestle with is what keeps me going, and because of this passion that has me coming back each week for more and more all the time. I've not been involved in the matches Devan has, but like with Tyler Parker last week that is not going to effect the way I approach this match, and it certainly won't make a difference in the outcome. Every match brings about about a different theme, a different element of surprise. There is always a new adversity in every new challenge that is posed to us. This Saturday Devan Dubian will bring an onslaught at me from the likes of which I don't normally receive, but I will offer the same in return and more. In the end I will seize MY moment. Devan Dubian will find out soon first hand as Tyler Parker did no matter how focused he will be it simply will not prevent my entrance into round three. Devan will find that it really was never his destiny to win all along, it was MINE! He’ll find out why this week his run in this tournament ends and why for this elitist it will continue. He's going to find out that this...is only the beginning.

[Elijah is sitting out in a pockmarked, desolate piece of no man’s land in the middle of the night. A large hole has been dug, the muddy red soil bunched up in a massive pile next to it as he begins to speak.]

I’m extremely sad that this day has come in so many ways. When I first got the news that I was facing you, James, I was rather happy. Excited. My entire body felt a surge of adrenaline. Someone who is as highly regarded as you I thought would be more of a challenge. It seems that you are more interested in trying to draw my anger than prepare for the relentless onslaught that you will face in four days. I don’t have a heavily regimented training schedule. What you saw a glimpse of was just me having a little fun with idiots who thought that they would be safe sparing against me so don’t take it that I am so excited that I will train “extra hard” just for you. You were once special enough to require such attention, but I can assure you at this point you are not.

I mean, just look at you. A former World Champion. One of the most highly regarded people in this place at one point. Someone, as you said, used to make little children cover their eyes in fear of seeing what you would do to your opponents. And now you are reduced to this. A jester. A court fucking jester. You sit around and make these stupid videos for clicks and giggles. You’re not a wrestler now, certainly not a warrior. You’re only a comedian. This wouldn’t be a bad career change if you were touring comedy clubs with Jay Leno or Eddie Murphy. You choose to remain in the wrestling game, trying to make a buck by putting out corny videos and doing a horrible job of mocking Scotsmen. You are just as clueless and ego-driven as your country’s President-Elect. While he was successful in convincing enough people that his nonsense will “Make America Great Again”, I’m and I’m sure most of the so-called “EAW Universe” knows that you are a bullshit artist of the highest caliber.

You, at one point, could have been the absolute best to have ever set foot in a wrestling ring. I have read the stories and I have done the research. I have watched a lot of your earlier work. And then I’ve watched your more recent work, as I’ve stated before. You’re doing a good job of hiding it but you must be concerned, don’t you? You came back…what was it? A year or so ago? You won a World Championship…. then you faded into obscurity once again. You return after hiding in shame and cowardice of your defeat, win the Hardcore Championship…and lose it in the most embarrassing fashion possible. You honestly believe that any aura, any mystique that you have remains? Yet you continue to reside in this alternate reality where you are still talented. You, in your delusion, really think that you are better than the very same people that you mock. Aren and Eclipse, far more interesting and ferocious foes in my opinion than you look to be, have qualities that compare to the finest people of your era who are still going strong, still challenging for elite status. People who still actually strike a pang of fear or command respect for what they can do. People like Methusulah evolve and grow. They don’t rely on the same stale nonsense that won them victories in the past over and repeatedly. And they certainly know when someone is coming to them to combat to take them seriously…or be taken.

Control has always been an issue of mine, though being in the care of the fine correctional facilities of your United States Federal Government and the State of North Carolina it shouldn’t surprise anyone that a convicted murderer and assaulter has problems with self-control. I chose professional wrestling as a hobby, not a profession. I don’t lack for money…which is why I don’t really give two shits about EAW fines. They can keep my entire salary if they want and I would still do what I wanted to people, places and things. Maybe my control will maintain itself enough to humiliate you in the worst possible fashion by smashing your skull into the canvas and putting you out of your misery like the sad old dog you are, but if it doesn’t I’ll make sure that me being disqualified is well worth it.

You see, my reasoning for wanting to end you isn’t exactly that you’re here. If you want to fight and continue to prove yourself, by all means do so, that’s my general feeling. But you…you seem to relish in just being here. You are not here to take over any more. You’re simply here to take part. You are like the villain of a Saturday morning cartoon show, corny, colorful and somewhat dangerous, but in the end the protagonists always wind up outsmarting or overpowering you. Hasn’t that been the case with you, lately, hmm?

I do encourage you to keep making fun of my heritage if only because I find such stupidity entertaining. Having the accent that I have and the origins that I do don’t make me any less dangerous and you rolling out the same unoriginal droll about some stupid Aussie cunt playing one of my country’s most important figures doesn’t really hurt or offend me in any shape or form. And it seems like you are either bad at geography or just bad at trolling: Ireland and Scotland are two different places. You should know that…but you ARE an American after all. And you did proclaim Nick Angel, a wrestler of modest talent of Japanese descent…to be Chinese. Hopefully basic education is a priority for your new Billionaire Overlord.

There seems to be a bit of a miscommunication between us as to exactly why I am here in EAW these days. The main priority that I have is to make life for everyone on Voltage unbearable. I am the scorched earth raining down plague after plague, abomination after abomination. Although I’m generally convinced it was the intention of the former General Manager- by the way, highest marks for not Mentioning Carlos Rosso by name repeatedly as if I give a flying fuck. You catch on quickly to topics that don’t hold my interest- ah, what was I saying…I don’t know the intentions of why Lance Hart kept me around. Maybe he just wants me around to crack skulls. Maybe he sees something that he can market and exploit for financial gain and sell tickets. Or maybe he has something else he’d want me to do. Either way though, it’s all irrelevant to me.

While winning is preferable to losing obviously, I don’t see any real need to actually hold the King of Elite crown. I’m aware of what it represents…but I’m also aware that it’s holders usually become sidetracked in blundering quests before eventually using their divine right of challenge that winning the crown allows. I have no intention of wearing that crown on my head and taking on some stupid moniker like “King Elijah the Braveheart”. There is no need for such nonsense. WHEN I win the crown, I’m going to melt it down or leave it in some vault to collect dust until I desire using it. I’m trying to find a way to explain this to you because being the obstinate buffoon you are you may whine that I used too many “bigly” words for you.

Just because I want something doesn’t mean that I care about it.

It’s honestly like finding a lay for the evening. Sure, you want it, but after the night is done do you really want to sit around with some whore who opened the legs for you so easily? Do you really care about her?

I don’t need King of Elite, I don’t really want it. But, after a lot of men have been destroyed and my lust for combat is sated and the crown is still there waiting to be snatched, I will take it.

None of this happens of course until I beat you and then beat the pitiful survivor of the other match on voltage where King of the Elite is being determined. I see nothing to fear, I hear nothing that even gives me hope that this will be an exciting match. You sit around and play children’s games. You see this grave, don’t you? I made sure that the hole was big enough for you to fit in. Your body, as small, weak and frail as it is, won’t take up much space. But I did have to dig rather deep to make sure that your ego and sense of self-accomplishment, bordering on self-worship, could fit in the grave. You talk about standing face to face with the Denizen of Carnage, as if it’s happened yet. It hasn’t. When you have met, me face to face, the jokes will end. The clickbait videos, will be over. It’s all going to end for you when my foot presses against the back of your skull and drives your face into the canvas with concussion-inducing force.

Rated R Shaman of Sexy is dead. My attempts to revive that bite, that glory, that vision, that persistence have seemingly failed. Drastik, what you are now, is just a pale imitation of what you once wore, making you an object of ridicule and derision even among your fellow Hall of Fame members. There is only one thing left to do, I’m afraid…. end James Cobain. It will be a task I take great joy in. Oh, before you are sent to hell, I do have a present for you. You want to see your present?

[Elijah beckons the camera, equipped with a flashlight, to glance over the massive marble tombstone sitting at the front of the grave. The inscription on it becomes visible quickly.]

 




 

I really have nothing else to say to you at this point. You know how I feel about you. You know that I don’t care about the King of Elite or your wellbeing. You know that I feel no qualms about butchering you in front of a live audience. And you know that your destruction is coming. Please, continue to wallow in the same cowardice that keeps you from reaching your full potential. Carry on believing that this is all some wonderful inside joke and you’re destined to win based on prior success or the failures of other opponents before me.

Your head will make a fine trophy.

(Elijah grabs the camera tosses it into the grave and begins shoveling dirt onto it. The lens slowly is covered until the screen is black and only the sound of dirt being dumped into the hole with a shovel can be heard.)

Don't question my desire, Jamie. If anyone truly desires to become King of Elite in this company it is me. I've put my life on the line for what I want, I have been face to face with death many times before. I didn't hesitate, not even once, I pushed through the pain and the suffering, I didn't think twice. Even I'm amazed that I am still standing after all I've been through. Name one guy that's been through half the shit I have been through and is still going. Just one, Jamie. There isn't one, is there? I was knocked down more times than I can actually remember, but I got up every single one of those times. I fight ALL of my battles and wars like everything is on the line, Jamie. I won some, I lost some. But win or lose I did EVERYTHING in my power to succeed, always. You can't say I failed to overcome all the obstacles that were imposed upon my path because I DID, I ALWAYS do. It took me months, but I overcame the empire of Zack Crash, it took me seven years but I overcame all opposition on the horizon and CONQUERED the World Heavyweight Championship. I'm disappointed I have fallen short, I would be blatantly lying if I said I wasn't, but all of those losses I have suffered throughout my time in the land of elite have motivated me more than they have made feel disillusioned. I have been told I have no future here. That the empire I created for myself is nothing but ruins. But you can build a future out of anything, Jamie. You can build an airy city out of ruins and that has been proven before. I always keep going, Jamie. Regardless what they tell me, regardless how many times I get knocked down, regardless what they do to discredit me. I never looked up to the skies and asked why, I looked up to the heavens and asked, that all you got? That, my friend, THAT is DESIRE. Genuine desire. If you question my desire, you clearly have no idea who the hell I am. I truly want redemption. Look into my eyes and tell me I don't want it, Jamie. Redemption to you is regaining what you lost. To me, redemption is that and much more. Redemption isn't just recovering everything I was deprived of. It is redeeming myself before the eyes of the wrestling world, it is solidifying myself as a pivotal figure in this company, it is my chance to vanquish the shadows and demons that haunt me once and for all. 

Maybe my desire was not enough at Road To Redemption, but tell me, was yours enough? If it was enough, if you would have truly wanted to walk out of the chamber triumphant, you would have put everything on the line! You would have had the balls to face death! You wouldn't have hesitated to push through all the pain and the suffering! And you would have gotten up when you got knocked down! I don't think victories or losses dictate how powerful our desires are. I have been blessed with a new opportunity by the powers that be, yeah. You were too, Anthony Leonhart was too, many other guys as well. It's not like they are handing me the crown on a silver platter. If I want to get my redemption I have to fight for it just like everybody else. I don't make new year's resolutions, Jamie, when I say I am going to do something I just do it. Even if it takes me seven years. I'm not running away from this challenge, Jamie. That would make you very happy, wouldn't it? But unfortunately for you, I am not that type of man. I don't run away from anybody or anything. Even if I did, why would I run away now? Answer me, Jamie, why? You may have forgotten what you did to me months ago, but I haven't. That memory is vivid still, I remember it clearly, it's as if it happened yesterday. I won't forget what you did to me until I make sure you learn the consequences of your actions against me. I've been told I can't like a million times before. You're not the first and you certainly won't be the last. I'll have you know that I have made a career out of proving people wrong. Even if the odds seem to be stacked against me, even in the darkest of my hours I CAN and I WILL do this. I'll get my redemption, Jamie. By becoming king or by making sure I headline Pain For Pride, no matter how, this is something I fully intend on accomplishing. My downfall isn't set in stone, nothing in life is set in stone except the dates of our deaths and I will not be dying on Dynasty, Jamie. I feel confident in myself, at the same time I feel the entire opposite, but my confidence will overthrow all doubt, all uncertainty when I destroy you and everything you represent, Jamie. It's amusing how you haven't even beaten me yet, you haven't even made it to the King of Elite event, and you already deem yourself king. You view yourself as my superior, their superior. But Jamie, you're not the first "king" I am tasked with surmounting. I've defeated other so called monarchs before. I defeated one last week as a matter of fact. I acknowledge you are an obstacle, a huge obstacle in my way, Jamie, but that's literally all you embody. An obstacle. Not a thread, not a nightmare of mine, not a potential headache for me. You're a bigger obstacle than Anthony was, but that isn't saying much. You have shown you have what it takes to tangle with EAW's finest. I may bot have wanted to admit this before, but the truth is there is a powerful reason you won a World Championship so early in your original tenure as an elitist. You're one hell of a competitor, nobody can take that away from you. However, Jamie O'Hara you are NO king of mine. I'll never kneel before you. Even if you beat me, even if you utterly devastate me Friday night on Dynasty. I won't kneel. But after I am done with you and after I am crowned king, you will have no choice, no option more viable than KNEELING before me and showing the world that The "Mighty" DO KNEEL.

You professed you will be the one who finally ends me once and for all. What Mr. DEDEDE could not do, what Xavier Williams and Zack Crash failed to do, what even Jacob Senn was unsuccessful at, you vow to be successful at. You made a promise, Jamie, and I hope you try your damn hardest to fulfill it. I want you to come at me with everything you've got, I want the Jamie O'Hara that was EAW Champion in that ring with me on Dynasty, NOT the little bitch that attacked me months ago for no reason at all. This is an opportunity I can't allow myself to lose. The fire in me is still burning, Jamie, my love for this is more vibrant than it has ever been in my career, and my confidence continues to grow and get stronger.

(Mike Showman is seen sitting inside the Orion Express travelling towards the next destination. He is drinking wine as he looks outside the window looking extremely happy. After some time, he finishes his drink and settles back in his seat)

Mike: Is there anything better than travelling in your own luxury bus, drinking the finest wine and looking outside only to see the misery of other people who are inferior to you? Wait a minute, there is another that can top it and that is, winning a contest by completely destroying your opponent.

(Mike grins)

Mike: That’s right, nothing can be compared to that feeling and I can say that confidently because this week, I destroyed that bitch JD Damon right in the middle of the ring and moved on to the second round of the King of the fucking Elite tournament. I made that bitch tap out to my badass submission move just like I said I would and in the process, ensured that JD Damon makes a direct trip to the nearest hospital. I am so proud of myself right now.

(Mike stands up and goes over to the counter to pour a second glass of drink)

Mike: You know, at moments like this, you have a feeling that nothing could go wrong. It’s like a sign from the heavens that the road ahead is going to smooth as fuck
(Mike receives a text in his phone. He picks it up and reads the text. Suddenly, his expression changes and starts re reading the received text again and again. Finally, he lets out a huge sigh and gives an expression of disgust as he throws his phone away. He moves away from his counter and sits back on his old seat again)

Mike: Nothing can go wrong I said, the road ahead will be smooth I said. Smooth my ass! I forgot that I live in a world of inferior creatures who can make stupid choices that can instantly ruin anyone’s perfect day. Like today, my day is ruined because of an announcement from EAW that I will be facing Solomon Caine in the second round of the tournament. Aaargghhhhhhhhh

(Mike lets out a scream and starts to take deep breaths. Sometime later, he continues to talk)

Mike: Something has to be done about it. Nobody is running this day, no sir. So, what can I do about it? What? What? Eh….wait, I got it! You know what I am going to do? I am going to tweet about it. Yes, I am going to tweet my frustrations. I am going to send it to the feed and make sure everyone knows about this. (Mike takes his phone and opens the EAW feed and sends a quick ass tweet. He then tosses away his phone but still looks unconvinced) Wait, why do I still feel empty? Why do I still feel something is missing? Wait, I understand! Sending a tweet is not enough, people need to see me live and experience my frustration. Wait, let me rephrase myself, they HAVE to. So, I am going to record a video and you all WILL look at it. 

(Mike goes to the back of the express and finds a video camera from out of nowhere and powers it on)


Mike (with the camera turned on): Hello there less important bitches, my name is Mike Showman and I am here to rant on Solomon Caine. This is the same fucker whose cunt mouth spews out cryptic words, messages and warnings which, according to him, we must all heed because if we do not then big papa devil would come down and rape us. Ha, that loser thinks that he can actually convince me that all his crap is real. What a pussy. But yes, why am I ranting on him? Because this asshole happens to be my opponent in the second round of the King of the fucking Elite tournament. Yes, yes I know, I am too talented to face him but guess what, I have no choice. Anyways, let’s have some fun with him shall we? Now where is that damn phone of mine? 


(Mike searches for the phone and finds it. Then, he opens the EAW website on his second phone and scans through the videos part. He then finds a video called ‘Solomon Caine sends a cryptic warning to Mike Showman ahead of their clash at Voltage’ and clicks on it. The video starts playing as Mike listens to it attentively. After the video is done playing, he tosses his second phone again and focuses the camera on him)

Mike: Oh my God Caine, I am so afraid! Look, even my hands are shaking from that terrifying message you just delivered! Oh please Lord Caine, I accept, I accept your master’s bidding. Please do not hurt me. 

(Mike smirks as he continues to talk)

Mike: See what I just did Caine? That is called acting. Even though it was not good because after all, I am not a professional actor like you. Ever since the day you came here, you started acting in order to convince everyone that you are being controlled by a higher power and while that may have appeared impressive at first to some of these inferior people, you neither upgraded your act it nor changed it and as a result, the wall between reality and your act has started to crack buddy. People, even the mediocre ones are understanding and it’s really not good when they start to understand. They start to call you fake and just I am doing right now, transform you into a parody. But hey, not everything about this act of yours is negative because like I said, you are a parody and your act is amusing as hell and I like it when things are amusing. 
But hey, let me ask you something Caine, you say that your master is real and he shows you the way and tells you what to do and blah blah blah. Let’s do the unthinkable for a moment and consider your statements to be true. So now the question arises, where was your master when you were getting thrown off the ring right into the floor during that number one contender’s battle royal at the awards show? Why didn’t he save you then and magically lift you back to the ring and help you eliminate the rest of the guys and win the damn thing? Hell, why do you have to stay deep inside forests and other uncivilized places inside of, I don’t know, a proper building? You are a loyal servant of your master and so, he should do more for you right? I mean, if I was preaching the words of my master so much, I would have demanded equal compensation. Also, why aren’t you a champion by now? Why hasn’t his supernatural powers made you a World Champion or any sort of champion? Also, why do you even have to compete in this tournament? Why can’t your master just place that crown on your head? 

A lot of questions and yet, instead of answering them I know that in the next video, you will send me yet more cryptic bullshit. So, let me answer them for you. Now again, I am considering that this master of yours exist and so maybe, just maybe, your master is a loser. Or maybe he is a manipulator who manipulates people into doing things and giving them nothing in return. So in that case, you are like a whore who doesn’t get paid at the end of it. Oh yeah, whore sounds so much better. I am definitely calling you this from now on. Anyways, so you are an unpaid whore for working under a guy who may even be a loser. That’s wonderful, totally amazing but hey, on the contrary, if you would have come and licked my boots clean, I maybe would have allowed you to work for me and travel luxuriously inside the Orion Express. Of course you would sleep with my luggage but just think about it, you could have enjoyed free travel throughout the countryside, slept under a roof, drank some proper drinks and of course, met some pretty amazing women, after I was done with them of course. Maybe you should consider leaving your master and join my service because after all, you will have a wonderful time? Also, you won’t die a virgin. 

But hey, maybe I am putting the blame at the wrong place. Maybe it’s unfair to the master for blame everything because after all, even a master cannot convert a donkey into a horse. Maybe you are not that guy for whom doing something would seem satisfactory and to be honest, I cannot blame him for that because after all, you are boring and predictable. A friendly tip, next time do some actual research before blindly stating facts and coming to a conclusion about me. Because if you would have done some research then you would have understood that the reason why I call myself the King of the new breed is because among all the new guys who have started wrestling here, I am far more superior in skill, training and even in materialistic things. Now again, if you did some research in history, you would have seen that only those dudes who were more powerful, more intelligent when compared to others got the crown placed on their heads and got the right to call themselves ‘kings’. I call myself a king because I have the right to say so based on the above stated factors. Also, rotten family tree? Please. The word I would like to coin is useless but hey, even my family taught me a lot of things like how I should not give a shit about guys like and to be honest, it is helping because at this moment. Because if I truly would have given a shit about what you are saying then it is clear that I would have ABSOLUTELY FUCKING INSANE (Mike pauses a bit and takes few deep breaths) Okay, that was necessary. Anyways, back to you. Where was I? Oh yes, if you really want to talk about things that are rotten then you have to look no further than your victory over Kenny Drake. Kenny Drake should have easily put you away and the fact that he could not really makes him a rotten wrestler more than it makes you look strong. 

But hey dude, I am not Kenny Drake. I am a man who faced you two times and so I know very your strengths and weaknesses very well. Well, there is not much to know since you are so limited in your abilities but though I would mention that to make me look yet stronger. But anyways, added to that, I might be the only guy right now who knows who you really are, a tiny and shit man hiding behind all that special effects. So you may talk about crushing the serpent’s head and tearing my body apart with your bare hands but I know that in reality, you are capable of nothing and this week at Voltage, I will beat you and move on to the next round. That’s it, message over, Goodbye.

(Mike stops the recording and prepares to upload it to the EAW Network. He takes a deep breath and grins and mutters to himself loudly, “I feel better already”. He then moves to the counter to prepare another drink for himself)

Here comes the horrible jokes I was expecting....The horrible jokes about my weight gain so what if I gained a few pounds? I was off for over a month and decided to use it to my advantage and change my whole attitude going into 2017. This will be the year of The Wrestling Machine and needed to start by looking at myself in the mirror and needed to dig deep in myself to find where I can improve as a person and where I can be an unstoppable person on the Elite Wrestling Roster because I fucking went from being on top of the New Breed division as the Young Lions Cup holder to representing the division at Pain for Pride 9 with JJ Silva in that Divide and Conquer Match and everything went down hill from there. I lost the Cup at the draft lottery against Aria Jaxon and then downhill into the ground and I wouldn't recover. But around Thanksgiving time when I flipped the switch and attacked Kelly Hackenschmidt and showed my true colors to the fans around the world it felt like I won the lottery because so much weight was lifted on my chest and every chair shot, every Machine Break that was locked in and nearly breaking everyone's arm, man I felt like a million bucks and I want to feel that certain way throughout this year and capture the Interwire Championship. So what if I gained a few pounds huh? WHAT'S WRONG WITH ME BEING A LITTLE OVER WEIGHT? WHAT'S WRONG WITH FAT PEOPLE? HUH? MY PLAN IS TO MAKE IT INTO MUSCLE SO WHY DON'T YOU SHUT YOUR MOUTHS BEFORE I SHUT IT FOR YOU WHEN I SEND ALL OF YOU TO THE HOSPITAL! ...As a kid I was bullied in middle school for not being good at sports and now today it's reversed, people on Dynasty are going to find out how I suffered through the years of my child hood and they are going to enjoy every second of it. I may cause broken bones, I may cause concussions, I may cause fractures, I may cause you to bleed and guess what people? I just don't give a damn because that's how this world works. They are good guys and they're bad guys and trust me when I tell you I am a very bad man when it comes to the Squared Circle. People around here treat me like I am a piece of garbage to them and they just can throw me around and wherever it lands they don't care because they THINK I won't come back to haunt them. They have it all wrong do I have to remind you who the hell I am? I AM PROBABLY ONE OF THE MOST SUCCESSFUL AMATEUR WRESTLERS THIS COMPANY HAS EVER SEEN IN THERE LIVES, I AM BETTER THEN ANY WRESTLER ON THIS ROSTER WEATHER IT BE PAST, PRESENT, OR FUTURE. At the Ohio State University I can't even walk down one block without being followed by fans and asking for autographs because besides college football all they have is The Wrestling Machine to look up to because no one in the next three decades WILL EVER beat the records that I hold there. So keep talking all the trash you want because It will come back to haunt you in the end just like the bullies I dealt with back in my younger days. I am going to enter that ring like a caged animal and enter out the same way I came in but this time I will walk out number one contender for the most prestigious prize in our business which is the Interwire Championship.

It's no secret that my contract is expiring soon with this fucking company and matter of fact it expires the night after King of the Elite. Trust me I want to be here on Dynasty and go through with my dream and become champion but it pisses me the hell off that someone like me who has been the longest out of everyone out of the contenders for this championship has still fight to become the number one contender? I am the most famous star Dynasty has ever seen, I don't care if StarrStan has been here or Mr. DEDEDE or Scott Oasis, Lucas Johnson is the star everyone wants to see. The Wrestling Machine should be on these free per-view poster not people who is now washed up and has been hogging up the spotlight for almost ten years now and it's getting to a point that it's getting me sick to my stomach. Just look at every Pain for Pride in the last five years how many new stars have been made? ZERO! It's the same old superstars in the main event scene like DEDEDE, Hades, Brian Daniels....the list can go on and on people Pain for Pride 10 should easily be main evented by one of these hungry lions and his name should be Lucas Johnson. That maybe in June but it's currently January and you need to focus on one goal at a time and that is becoming number one contender for the Interwire Championship. Moongoose I don't give a shit where you wrestled, it could have been in the United States, It could have been in Japan - home of the worst wrestlers of all time, Mexico wherever it maybe I could give two shits less. It seems to me you are the new rookie on the block and are trying to jump start your career by becoming the number one contender quickly but let me give you a spoiler alert my friend it's not going to happen because you are going to learn a valuable lesson on rookie mistakes the same way I did when I first entered this company. Mr. Hackenschmidt we meet once again this time I will have the last laugh this Friday night, I don't give a shit the million nick names you could give yourself like "Mister Pure Wrestling" it all means nothing to me until you step into my yard in that squared circle because once that bell rings I suggest you either lay down for the three count of suffer the long pain you felt once before when I nearly ended your career and trust me I have no problem doing it again. So message to all you pieces of shit that I am facing in this match you either hand me the number one contender-ship or face the price of pain and misery....SOMEONE TWO SWEET ME!

(Moongoose McQueen is standing by a tv screen showing Kelly Hackensmidht’s recent interview and signing with Shimmer and McQueen is chuckling.)
 
Oh, I like this guy. It’s so funny when I see a guy like this and start to wonder, maybe I truly ain’t that one of the kind. I mean that pandering, that arrogance, and dare I say, that honesty. It’s certainly refreshing to see these type of guys. I mean, do you feel it, Shimmer? Can you look at this guy and get that same vibe? I’m getting goosebumps, no, déjà vu, because I’d hate to say it, but Kelly Hackensmidht may very well be the next Moongoose McQueen.
 
I mean, I don’t want to insult myself here, but you might as well be calling the tea kettle black, but it’s ok. You don’t know me, and I don’t care enough to learn about you. But do you see the hypocrisy here? Here you are, trying to sell your “brand” when if you truly cared about your philosophy, you wouldn’t have to. I mean, Hackenboots and Smidht-Kicks? Really? And these hero moments, where you’ve tried to inspire people, well, geez, what is it that I do on my free time as a mercenary while getting paid little to nothing? Yes, it’s true. I don’t accept money, and if I do accept anything, it’s only to clear the debt my clients may feel indebted to give back to me. A free conscious for me putting my body on the line to help them. Mercenary is just the best way to define it. Believe it or not, I’m not a bad person. Sure, I beat a little 4 year old girl in a game of DDR, but Kelly, you of all people should know when it comes to competition, the only true sense of respect is to give everything you got instead of letting them win. I’m not the type to let people celebrate a win under false pretenses, I’m honest. And believe it or not, Mr. Pure Wrestling, if you’ve ever seen any of my matches in the past decade or so, you’d know that I’m not necessarily a scrapper or that bad in terms of technical or mat wrestling. I adapt to the situation that best fit. So when I say, I can wrestle circles around you, I’m dead serious that I have the skills to back it up. I’ve wrestled in the states, Japan, Mexico, Europe, I’ve learned it all. You want technical, you got it. You want a flyer, you got it. You want a brawler, you got it. You want someone that can fight dirty, guess what?! YOU GOT IT! Moongoose McQueen can do it all! So when I say I can wrestle circles around you, I’m not lying.
 
Let me educate you. Have I seen death? Have I’ve seen Hell? Oh, let’s see, I’ve been lit on fire, thrown off 36 ft structures, choked by barbwire, wrestled death matches in Japan, seen my life flash before my eyes, and grew up with 3 other McQueens including this sick son of bitch right here. HOW DARE YOU ASK ME THIS WHEN YOU HAVE ONLY BARELY BEGAN YOUR CAREER?!! Like you’ve seen the things I’ve seen. Yeah, I’ve seen death and I stared him right in the eye and bitch slapped him. I’ve seen hell and I walk through the gates and back out on a daily basis, and when I say “Kelly Hackensmidht may very well be the next Moongoose McQueen.” I mean you are really just one really bad day away from being me. You call me a cheater. You call me a liar. But I dare you to look into my history, and you know what you are going to find? I’ve never cheated to win when I fought Hades. I took every challenge head on even when the odds were against me, and stood my ground. I have an honor system that I live by and strive to protect everyday, to push every challenger in hopes that if someone beats me, it is how you say “sweeter.” And everything I say, I strive to make it happen. Kelly, you are delusion by the fact that just because I have a horrible way to express myself, that Moongoose McQueen must be a horrible person. But you know it’s really just the arrogance that bothers people, when the sad truth is, I only speak harsh truths. Do you think these fans cheer for me because I berate them? I “act” like a bad guy yet my entire career, these fans have my back, because at the end of the day, they know I’m right. See, you and I are not that different, I just happen to know more and I’m more flexible than you.
 
Kelly, the way you preach your methods, you sound like you got a stick up your ass. You’re rigid and refusal to change, while admirable, will be your downfall. I speak from experience. I speak from being that kid you told how to be a wrestler, and I speak from having been in yours shoes, foolishly believing that pure talent is enough to go on. You can learn a lot from me, and trust me, you will when I am the star of Friday Night Dynasty. I can tell you right now, the advice you told that kid, that ain’t going to help him get anywhere. You are basically setting up that poor kid for disappointment believing wrestling is all high-fives and giggles. No, this industry is rough and I’m going to show kids like him the cold damn truth, and its not because I enjoy seeing kids cry. It’s a test of conviction to prove that even after seeing the worse side of the spectrum if he wants to keep going. THIS is how you build character and help them on the long run. This is how we single out the weak from the strong. And Kelly, all you ended up doing was feeding that kid to the hellhounds to sell yourself as the overall “good guy.” And you’re calling me the liar?!! Nah, I won’t call you a liar. You probably meant well. I’m calling you delusional, because you don’t even realize just how wrong you are yet. Its fine, ignorance seems to be the gimmick everyone follows these days.
 
But that doesn’t mean you can’t learn from your mistakes. I’ll be happy to admit I am wrong about you, and that you may very well have potential to shine. Though I’m still going to stand firmly and say, “You ain’t ready for my level yet.” While you are Mr. Pure Wrestling, I’m simply a survivor. Survivor of the fittest? Survivor of the Sickest? Doesn’t matter, I’ll live. I’ll thrive, and I’ll conquer. That is the Moongoose McQueen way of doing things, and it has been nothing but success since. I’ve had my fair shares of bad days, but at the end of each one, I hold my head up high and proud, and Mr. Hackenschimdt, you’ve haven’t even began to comprehend what its like to be in my shoes. To walk in that locker room, loathed by everyone, with a target on your back. There are people here that know what I’m capable of. You don’t even know me, but you sensed that I was a threat. Maybe I just give off a vibe that from my presences. You feel that aura? That pride that helps me get up everyday and keep on fighting. It’s a flame that cannot be put out and burns brighter than the sun. Get too close, you’ll go up in flames and I’ll like to see what you pull out next when you realize your so called “skill” doesn’t have much of an effect on me.
 
But thank you, Kelly. You’ve made this match a little bit more interesting. Because beating you, Vegas, and Lucas won’t just be an opportunity for me, but an opportunity for you to learn too. Believe me, nothing makes me happier than beating a lesson into my enemy. Oh gosh, here I go, complimenting you as if you can potentially be “my enemy.” I can honestly say, I’ve only called a few people that in my career, and Hades being one of them. You should be flattered. After all, I can’t say I’ve ever faced anyone so similar to myself. But not quite yet. But as I saying, this is just the beginning. This is the start of something beautiful. THIS IS WHERE I OPEN YOUR EYES TO THE TRUTH AND ULTIMATELY SET YOU ON A TRUER PATH TO BETTER YOURSELF! Sure, you will struggle and resist at first, but soon, you will see the world through my eyes. You’ll see how your way won’t get you too far. HAHAAHAHA. Oh man, I really hoped that Hades would had taught you this lesson when he beat you. I’m starting to think he has gone soft. Well, I suppose it’s about damn time I beat him again by teaching you a lesson and making sure it sticks. And we’ll see what kind of man you really are. Are you going to refuse to learn and run away like Kevin Devastation and disappoint me or are you going to stick around and adapt like me? You best watch me carefully, Kelly. As I said, you and I are not that different. Don’t take that as an insult, it’s a compliment. And watching how I do thing, you may learn a lot and spare yourself a lot of pain. Though to be fair, it is the pain that I’ve been though all these years that made me the man I am today. You aren’t ready for me yet. The beating and humiliation I’m going give you. It’s going to be good for you. I guarantee it.
 
Shimmer: It’s time to go. The signal is up.
 
(McQueen and Shimmer run to the outside and the camera man follows. They look up to the sky)
 




McQueen: We’re needed. QUICK, TO THE MOONGOOSE MOBILE!
 
(McQueen and Shimmer run off into the night while you can hear in the faint back ground)
 
Shimmer: Na Na Na Na Na Na Na BATMAN! BATMAN!
 

McQueen: It’s not Batman, it’s Moongoose!  

While my year-end quest for a final hoorah in the year of 2016 didn't work out so as planned, it is known that I have made my mark in 2016 as the greatest to ever set food in the company, with or without a Championship in my hand. Like I always say, it's never about what you have accomplished, but what you had to go through to reach the finish line, and boy, have I gone through a lot. Now it's 2017, a brand new year for the Heart Break Gal's reign of terror, and I am presented with -- what do I call them -- sacrifices that will serve as punching bags for my first match. Thank you Cleopatra. Thank you for giving me an easy match to celebrate my greatness. Thank you for putting Cameron Ella Ava and me in a position where the first trials come easy, and which will signify that all great things will come to us this year with no question, because that is exactly what we deserve. Gone are those who feel entitled to win a Championship they never deserved to begin with, Gone are those who throw around cringe-worthy catchphrases in their filthy accents, carrying around this "pride" and "efficiency" that even they couldn't live up to. Gone are those who used their Championship opportunity to snatch away my title, only to fail to deliver in the end because she couldn't keep up with the pressure and the worth of the title that she holds enough to defend it one fucking time. Everything that occured at Empire in the past two months are just proof that none of these vixens are as organized, as progressive, as cunning, as fierce as the OG Vixens. Cameron, Kendra and I, through the years have never seen eye to eye, but look at us now. We have evolved into monsters that do as they please and make their own rules because it has been proven that none of the so-called "New Guard" could match up to our unbreakable armor. You can't try to hammer your laws in our heads when you're nothing but a brittle old club. You can't be running barriers over when you're nothing but a small rusty car. It would hurt you. It would break you. It would shatter you into tiny pieces , which is exactly what the fate of our opponents will be this Thursday Night. Manami Takahashi and Mei Hatsukyo, I don't even care enough to know what hole you two crawled out from, but I'm certian that you two are smart enough to know that there is absolutely nothing you can do to mean more to the world than victims and preys to the OG Vixens. Sucks to see your careers fall right before your eyes before it even began. I am telling you now that you two are nothing but pawns, nothing but sacrifices necessary to show the world the domination that the OG Vixens bring. We are multiple-time Vixens Champions. We are Hall of Famers. And if you think our lines of accomplishments will stop there, then you are completely mistaken. Experience is more than enough to forsee your actions and motives coming into this match, and when you combine that experience our confidence and our killer instinct, then there is absolutely no chance for you to walk out of this match in one piece. We will tell the world how easy it is to kill your dreams and to let you know that EAW and Empire are not places where incompetent garbages like you two belong. Sure, some Aria Jaxons and Tarah Novas may have slipped through the cracks, but they always get exposed soon enough for the jokes and the one-hit-wonders that they are. This will be the biggest contribution to EAW that the two of you will give... whether or not you fight back or state your intentions on winning this match to prove yourselves as ruthless newcomers is easily out of the question, because in the end the OG Vixens will prevail. They always do. And like always, it will be... effortless.

(The scene opens up to Drastik, again, in the same clothes as before, but this time not actually eating any cereal. He has it spilled out all over the floor, but instead of sitting at a table, he’s standing behind an ironing board and working to get the wrinkles out of something. He sets down the iron and holds the piece of clothing out—a red kilt that might be a little too short. Drastik nods at it and then holds it up to the camera as if to show Elijah Stewart before hearing the cameraman whisper, “I thought you said this was going to be a serious vignette?” Drastik sets down the kilt and brushes strands of hair away from his face before taking a deep breath and waving a hand in front of his face once to make a serious face toward the camera. He glares and turns his head slightly to try and look intimidating before speaking.)
 
Serious? Of course I’m being serious. Sure I’m still funny and sure Ahren’s going to laugh at my jokes because he recognizes my humor and is supportive of his best friend. But to act like I’m not taking this match serious because I’ve stuffed my gut with processed marshmallows for the past three nights is just—well I cant see why you’d be under that impression. But come on, priority mail to get you your pamphlet within a day? Wading through your Scottish accent to try to figure out what you’re even saying to me? Dealing with your blatant sexism in the year of our Lord 2017 without reporting you and getting half of your rookie contract taken away? That’s commitment. Maybe you’re not used to such a lighthearted approach to life since it seems like you’ve mostly been living the gloom and doom lifestyle for the past decade or so of your life. But you’ve gotta pick the marshmallows out of the Lucky Charms every once in a while, Elijah. Loosen up a little bit. Don’t show me how you’re dripping sweat and training for our match this weekend; it’s going to be way more embarrassing when you lose to a guy who has admittedly just been trolling you for the last couple days. I can already tell that you’re preparing for running into that brick wall on Voltage. You’re already meeting me with “I’m not after the King of Elite, I’m just looking for a fight!” That’s very noble of you. Not very smart, but it’s definitely very noble. Do these fighters get paydays? Do people care about people who exchange lefts and rights, get busted lips, ice swollen eyes, nurse broken bones? No. Sure, there’s a place for the extreme—for jumping off of tall structures or wrapping steel chairs around opponents’ backs—but that’s all for the sake of entertainment and success. The guys that are just here to fight slip into the background because no one buys into it. It falls into the same category as the guys who, when facing defeat, say “I don’t care about that, I’m just happy to be here.” It’s pathetic really. You don’t see me doing that. You don’t see Ahren Fournier doing that. We admit that losing sucks. That’s what drives us. That’s why we’re so similar. And that’s why we’re both bound to meet success sometime soon. But you, Elijah, you insist on pressing forward with this holier than thou mentality where you’re a premiere fighter because you don’t mind getting down and dirty. That recklessness has ruined your life, sent you to prison cells, put you on death row, landed you here where you’re facing someone that isn’t as easy to write off as Nathan “Lost My Way” Fiora. While I watch you stomp your feet and raise your voice at me over a box of Lucky Charms with your face pasted of a leprechaun, I’m anticipating you slipping up, losing your focus and losing your cool. It might come across like something snaps in you, and sure you may intimidate a couple of new guys in the back that think “Gee I sure hope I don’t have to run into that guy”, but you’re going to come up short because you can’t maintain control of anything.
 
Maybe it’s that lack of control that’s really been the thing keeping you from starting your career here. Maybe if you attended a couple anger management classes, did some interpretive tap dancing, played the bagpipes before you went to sleep every night, or whatever else, you would have been here years ago realizing that getting your name etched into the history books is far better than getting yourself into a scuffle. But since you passed up on that—for one reason or another—you find yourself lighting my pamphlets on fire and screaming at me about death and destruction and blood and all of this stuff. Like jeez, chill out dude. I thought I wasn’t going to have to deal with these kinds of vague threats until I blew through you and ended up facing Solomon Caine again—something I don’t look forward to just because, well, have you heard that guy talk before? Good god. It might seem like I’ve been all about the glitz and glam that comes with being champion, but you’re wrong in your overall assessment. In fact, our goals are a lot more similar than you think. You want to introduce yourself and cement yourself as one of the most brutalizing, dominant fighters in this company’s history, whether you end up running the table for an accolade or just make the kids in the front row cover their eyes because the big, scary Scottish meanie won’t stop screaming. You want to prove that whatever is thrown at you, you will brutalize it like you claim to have done throughout your life. But me, Elijah, I’ve already done stuff like that. I’ve brutalized opponents. I’ve made little kids cover their eyes. I’ve yelled and screamed mean things just because sometimes that’s fun to do. And all the while, I still managed to get the job done. So why am I back again? Why didn’t I just put a bow on my career and cash out my monthly payment for my Legends Contract? Well, the answer to that is pretty simple, and actually ties in to me continually product-placing Lucky Charms in my vignettes: I love causing chaos. I love coming back, hearing people say, “You lost your touch. You can’t hang with us. You can’t hang with me. You’ve never faced anything like me before!” I love reading the articles online about how I can’t succeed in such a drastically different landscape than the ones I’ve thrived in before. But what I love more than that is coming in and doing it anyways. I love refreshing twitter and seeing people cry about how it isn’t fair that Drastik is in line for a world championship match. I love hearing people theorize that I’ve abused the political system, that I’m paying guys off, that I’m coercing people to lay down for me. I love seeing guys on the cusp of greatness get pushed to the side for the sake of me having my time without even “earning” it the way that they wanted me to. It shows how ever-present I am. It shows that there is nothing that can be done when I come back, whether we’ve faced each other a million times or if this is the first time I’ve ever heard of you. It doesn’t matter. And since I’ve done that so many times before, I can come face to face with the cold-blooded convict, Elijah Stewart, and crack jokes about his heritage.
 
(Drastik reaches into his pajama pants and pulls out his phone. He sees a text from Ahren even if it’s in the middle of the night: “You up?” Drastik shields the phone from the camera and says he’ll respond to that later, then goes to his email and pulls up a pdf he had attached to something he sent to scotty2hotty6969@gmail.com. He clears his throat and tries to look seriously at the camera again.)
 
In fact, since you went ahead and made a list for me, I decided to return the favor. And since you seem to have arson-like tendencies, I decided I’d just skip the express delivery and email you a PDF. You put the time in to learn about me, so I did the same for you. So here’s a little preview—all the things I know about Scotland and the Scottish people:
 

1. Mike Myers, the voice actor for Shrek from the critically acclaimed movie, Shrek, isn’t actually Scottish but used a Scottish accent for that big, green, lovable ogre.
   
2. According to urban dictionary, a “Scottish Windmill” is a sexual act in which the man twirls his penis around, similar to a windmill, and hits his partner with it over and over again. You crazy Scots.
   
3. The Disney Channel original movie, The Luck of the Irish (2001) was actually, in fact, not about Scottish people at all.
   
4. According to the US Census Bureau, there are 888,709 people named “Scott” and 99.64% are male. Nice.
   
5. This isn’t really a Scottish fact, but since he was in Braveheart, I figured I’d just throw in that Mel Gibson hating Jews might not be entirely true, but The Gay & Lesbian Alliance Against Defamation (GLAAD) accused him of being a homophobe. So there’s that.
   
6. The one cool thing about Scottland—that bagpipes started there—isn’t even really true. It started in China of all place. You go, Nick Angel. You go.
   
7. According to a 2008 survey, Glasgow women were voted the ugliest in all of the UK. That one makes me giggle.
   
8.  I’ve had bad luck with people named “Scott” in EAW. One was the chairman and couldn’t forget about me and the other kept insisting that he was excited to have me around but kept ducking me. I’m not sure which was worse. Yes, I’m grieving. Leave me alone.
   

 
I’ll stop there. But if you want to question my seriousness and effort, you better look at that PDF and think again, buddy. That took a lot of digging and research. I’ve become extremely cultured as a result of this delving into the Scottish culture. So much so that this kilt I was ironing out for you? Yeah, doesn’t it look snazzy? Well it’s mine now. I’m gonna have an excuse to be going commando now and there’s nothing you or the guy holding that camera can do about it! And before I go, tell Alana that if she’s looking for a good time, she can reach up under my man-skirt and feel my Brave-Hard-on. HA! That’s one to write home to mom about, boys.
 
(Drastik sets his phone down and goes for a high five with the cameraman who is appalled by how cringe that line was. Drastik throws the kilt over his shoulder before beginning to take off his pants and the camera quickly turns the camera away before shutting it off, not wanting to catch that on camera. Solid, white text flashes on the screen before the vignette concludes.)
 
SAIL

The Scene opens up to a recent panel where EAW Elitist, Kelly Hackenschmidt, still doing Indy shows for some odd reason is seen at a small hockey arena with the ice melted down. Due to his EAW contract, he cannot compete, but that's not stopping him from doing autographs and selling merch. No, instead he stands at a wooden table and still awaits a huge lineup of New England fans. He has a sharpy at the ready and sat on a foldaway chair whilst wearing a 100% Certified Schmidthead t-shirt that was also on display at the edge of the fold-away wooden table that Kelly had set up with his toques, jacket patches and autographable posters on display and sale.

The line was long and quite anticipated. Some of the fans in the crowd had worn mostly EAW related merch seeing Kelly Hackenschmidt after all was quite the anticipated event for them. He did the usual, signed autographs, took pictures, sold shirts, toques and yes, even his bongs made a few sales. Once the actual event began however, Kelly Hackenschmidt started to fold away his merch table when a curious kid walked up to him.

“Mister Hackenschmidt?” Asked the boy, he wore a 100% Certified Schmidthead t-shirt similar to Kelly’s own shirt.

“Oh,” Kelly turned to notice the little boy and smiled joyfully. “What's up?” He asked.

“How do I become a wrestler?” The boy asked.

Kelly dipped down to his knees and pulled his hair back. “Well, what's your name kid?”

“Dylan.” The boy answered as he looked down at the ground, embarrassed to be seen in front of one of his favorite wrestlers.

“Well Dylan. Let me give you a few lessons that might help you out.” Kelly said, pointing towards the empty wrestling ring that spectators had already gathered around. “Tonight you’re going to see some wrestlers that may not be on EAW television, but I’ll tell you this; I used to be one of those guys in there.”

Dylan gasped, looking towards the ring. “Really?”

“Really really.” Kelly said as he looked up at the ring. “It's a small time promotion, trust me. It’s a start, but if they dominate the competition and get enough fan recognition, that's when the big TV promotions get involved. Now if you want to get involved with them, you’re gonna need a few things first; for example, you're gonna need muscles, show me em!”

Dylan turns back to Kelly and flexes his skinny arms.

“There we go! Looks like you got one thing down; now then! Here's what I’d do bud, get involved in as many sports as possible, not just wrestling or football, but try your best at all these sports because you never know what kind of skills are going to be the one you end up using that gets you to the top.” Kelly stood back up.

“Wow, thanks Kelly. Hey, can I get a picture please?” Asked Dylan, looking up to the acclaimed Mr. Pure Wrestling.

“Oh sure bud!” Kelly says looking around. “Do one of your parents have a camera we can use? Don't want you to lose it.”

Dylan nodded. “I can get my Auntie Anne.” The boy ran off in search of his aunt.

Kelly stood back up and looked to the camera. “Kids right?” He chuckled and noticed Dylan dragging an older woman with him.

“Quick Aunt Anne, let me get a pic with Hackenschmidt!” He said with anticipation.

The woman, a blond of her mid thirties turned to Kelly. “You sure we don't have to pay?”

Kelly shook his head. “Nah, don't worry about it. You guys are fine!” Kelly dips down back to his knees to get to stand right next to Dylan. The aunt got her phone out and quickly took the picture with them smiling. “There we go, high-five!” Kelly raises his arm up and young Dylan smacks the hand.

“By the way,” said Dylan. “Are you ever gonna marry Laura?”

Kelly shivered at the question, looking over to Dylan. “Uhhh.” He looked around for an answer. “I-don’t know yet.”

“Hey Dylan! The first match is about to start, want to get to our seats?” Asked the boy’s aunt.

“Yeah!” The boy answered eagerly as he walked over to his aunt and the two vanished from the camera’s sight.

Kelly turned away, the camera following him as he walked back towards the merch table. He pulled a small gift wrapped square item out of his pocket, threw it up in the air and caught it. “Not yet.” He said as he put the gift wrapped item back in his pocket and proceeded to wrap the two display shirts up and put them back in the bucket where he kept all the other adult sized shirts.

“You know, through all the harsh schmidt people go through, meeting my fans and saying a simple Hello to them always put a smile on my face.”

Kelly said as he closed the blue bin labeled Shirts (Adult). He walked back over to the table and kept cleaning up the display.

“You see, Pro Wrestling used to bring many memories as a small boy growing up in Canada. It has always been what makes me grateful for every opportunity I have been given since arising onto the Independent scene and slowly made my way up the Pro-wrestling ladder to the point where I am perhaps one of Dynasty's key factors! And I would be lying if I said hearing people chant stuff like Holy Schmidt! or We Want Kelly! it is what motivates me most.”

Kelly ends by folding the table up and asking some of the eager and young volunteers to bring the table back. Once the volunteer walks away with the table; Kelly turns back to the camera.

“Now there seem to be a few things over in EAW that need to be addressed since I seem to be at a battle of wits over in this fatal four-way between myself, Lucas Johnson, Ross Vegas and Moongoose McQueen. You see out of these competitors, they’re both telling me totally opposite things about me. So I guess it's like those gate guards from The Labyrinth where one of them always tells the truth and the other always lies? Or maybe, just maybe, they’re too caught up into their thick skulls to realize that I am very much on top of my game when it comes to this match. Because I have quite the amount of intrigue when it comes to this match. That is even though Lucas Johnson wants to stay quiet and keep to himself like the pansy he has almost always been.”

Kelly walks over to a cardboard box full of toques/beanies/whatever and patches and places them up over the basket of shirts. Once they're stacked onto each other, he turns back to the cameraman.

“Now first, Ross Vegas. You seem to think that I don't have the so-called drive to win. Yet in fact it is quite the opposite in my opinion, you see. Ross Vegas seems to be unable to understand the fact that I am still very much a top competitor in this match, and if he is so lost for things to say against me that it ends up being the fact that I am apparently not as determined as him; well, I hate to break it to Mister Vegas, but determination is something I always had, meaning that you don't seem as truthful don't you? Well, hate to break it to you but I’m afraid things aren't going to end well, much like this other guy who still seems to do the one thing I have been nutritiously done by critics for many years up here in EAW;”

Kelly dipped his knees down and hoisted up the crates merch. He carried it to the edge of the hockey arena where there was a big entrance to the backstage halls.

“Which leads me to Moongoose McQueen. Now, sure, you may have a point with me being trained by Jakob DeLion that he is quite the sleezeball sure, yet at least if you could recall who Chris DeLion was you’d see why I’d train with a guy with that last name. But, that's enough of the pandering to my past, because I want to give Moongoose here a little piece of advice that goes far beyond just small talk and arrogance.”

He sets the merch basket down and turns back to the camera, pausing to stretch his back and glare with a sense of eagerness towards the camera.

“You see McQueen, you can brag all you want about how you actually got the job done against Hades, but, here's how I see it. I’m the one who learned from his mistakes, yet a man like you normally has to cheat in order to see himself as a legitimate threat. Now, you can go on to say that I have no sense because Pure talent is not going to get me to the top. Now, you're half-right and half wrong about that. Because you see Moongoose, sure, you got part of the idea when it comes to what I mean by survival of the fittest. You do accept the idea of it being Brain versus Brawn. Yet, what you fail to realize is that while cheating is effective in most ways, it's only going to cause you just that much more trouble once I come around and show you that some cheap, dirty trick can backfire much like a high risk or high-flying maneuver. Yet you seem to misunderstand the term Mister Pure Wrestling. It's not just some nickname, it's an ideology that I have used since coming to EAW. You see, here in EAW I can get pretty damn far with my nearly unmatched Technical Wrestling alone, yet I don't just use my mat Wrestling abilities don't I? You see I have quite the ring awareness and the agility to make sure a man like yourself is unable to get some kind of offense before you can pull any sort of cheap trick which I will admit in a fatal four-way. Yet while you seem confident in you and The Artist formally known as Shimmer winning this match, you seem backed up by the fact that beyond the underhanded advantage; that seems to be all you have in this match. While you claim you could Wrestle circles around me; if you close your eyes, look deep in yourself and let your mind go. You’ll see that not only do you cheat, but you lie too. Because as far as I'm concerned, I’m still the guy Friday Night Dynasty has gunned up to the top for: the guy who has still been called Underrated for too damn long here in EAW! You may have knocked Kevin Devastation out of Dynasty; but on Friday night you’re gonna regret that it wasn't you being booted off the show instead once you're the one in the corner ready for a hard-boiled Schmidt Kick! So brag all you want like Mark Michaels did over his success over Hall of Famers, because as far as I’m concerned, it's only going to make my victory over you that much sweeter! Especially when you realize that this over hype you have been given by all the boos you get is about to come to a crashing halt. Let me ask you, how does it feel to see death in the eyes? How does it feel to know that you have a date with Valhalla within just a few days? Must be honorable, isn't it? But eh, that's just my personal perspective. But here's the thing Moongoose, you can make all the cliche Nirvana references you want, but the only one In Bloom is me! But the bloom isn't referring to the cute blush I get when I’m up around Laura Laine, no. This is a bloom that is just going to get worse and worse each and every single time you try to actually double cross me. Because do anything and I’ll know exactly how to counter you right then and there!”

Kelly grins and looks towards the camera.

“I hope you're both ready, I really do. Because Mister Pure Wrestling surely is! So don't blink for a single second, don't even think about it, because you don't wanna miss the schmidt I have in store for you! It ain't gonna be pretty for anybody but all the Schmidtheads and Schmidettes in attendance! Because once Kelly Hackenschmidt has his arm raised high and they declare me the winner, the eyes on Friday Night Dynasty, are all gonna be on me!”

The camera fades away as Kelly picks his stack of merch up and carries it down the hallway.

[In a stark contrast to the foolish escapades of his opponent, the Denizen of Carnage trains late into the night in a private wrestling facility. Alana sits back and watches quietly, hearing bones snap and grown men beg for mercy in the cataclysmic embrace of Elijah Stewart. After giving one sparring partner gruesome leg injury, he signals for an unseen cameraman to approach the ring and stand in front of him.]

There is something that is amusing to me. I see nothing around me but insects as I look around on the Voltage roster. Maggots like the recently dispatched Nathan Fiora. Queen Bees like Sheridan Muller and Aria Jaxon. Drones like Mike Showman and Solomon Caine. Soldier Ants like Y2Impact and yourself. You seem to think that just because you’re a strong insect that you have a chance against a Colossus like myself. You are right that the Voltage Roster looks weak, filled with warriors with no soul and minimal ability. That may be one of the few things that you and I will ever agree upon James. But the thing that I think you need to understand is that you’re no better than the people you are calling out. Look at you, sitting around playing children’s games with cereal boxes. Do you think that’s cute? Do you think that Ahren is going to find that funny? Do you want to continue to play up to the people at home, make them believe that you are not living in absolute terror knowing in just a few days you must stand across the field of battle with Carnage Incarnate?

Whatever helps you sleep at night, my friend.

I have no need to brag of beating Nathan Fiora. That was just one minor obstacle en route to my goal of decimating the entire Voltage roster. I will not rest until everyone on the roster, especially you, have felt the full force of my power and are left cowering like helpless children. Beating him took little effort, and with the look of your condition and the way you seem to cling to this false hope of winning all these previous tournament matches that you have had…I’m starting to think that beating you will require even less effort. Sure, you may surprise me with a move or two and get the upper hand for a nanosecond…but you are nothing. The Rated R Shaman of Sexy is dead and I must say his reincarnation is disappointing to look upon. You used to be feared from what the little, ah, pamphlet tells me. That people dreaded wrestling you because of what you’re capable of. Now you are simply a punchline, an answer to trivia questions, no better than the worthless mentor whose name I will not bother to mention anymore.

Your Hardcore Championship victories don’t deter me in the slightest. Honestly, I wish this match were not contested with these restraining rules that EAW seems to hold so dear since it’s rebranding. I feel like I would have been much more suited for the era that you come from, that era where hardcore wrestling, brawling, and carnage night in and night out was the norm. Sure, there are some very violent times in EAW still but it’s been homogenized for the masses. Filtered. Robbed of it’s true essence. You called me a failed project, an attempt by that man to achieve something of note on his way out the door. As I said I’m of the belief that is nonsense, but it did get me thinking to what I want to do in EAW. Of course, most people would think “Win lots of titles, win tournaments, become famous and rich”. I’m not against any of those things but that’s not why I’m here.

I am searching for a good fight. A test. So far EAW has offered me nothing close to a test, as I’m sure you’re aware. I got just as tired of you mentioning HIS name as I’m sure you are of me mentioning that fact. But…despite all of your obvious flaws and you small, weak body, I sense that maybe you might be the type of fight I’m looking for. I know that you won’t go down easy, unless it’s for Fournier of course, so I’m hoping that my instincts are incorrect for once and you’re actually worth me staying up a little longer, training a little more.

I don’t believe in destiny or entitlement. I don’t believe that the crown of this wrestling world is just going to descend from heaven and find my head and decree that I rule by divine right. Faith without preparation is foolishness of the highest order and believe me I am no fool. I have no reason to sit here and feel spoiled. Make what jokes you will, but prison taught me that everything is earned and nothing worth having is given…and if anything is given, there’s usually strings attached. And, almost universally, any time you go to a new place where no one knows who you are and what you stand for, you have to go about earning that credibility and respect again. Every decision, every word, every fight matters to your standing. Wrestling is not too dissimilar from this concept. I think that’s one of the many reasons why there aren’t too many comers eager to face me.

The crown of King of Elite is not something that I truly set my heart on earning, but for some reason it seems to call out to me. It’s almost begging for an owner that it feels proud of again after some of the disappointment of lesser than hoped for royalty. I did not even anticipate being invited to compete in the field, honestly. I felt that maybe people would think that my arrival didn’t register enough to merit an invitation. Apparently, I was wrong.

[A servant ushers into the ring, handing off a UPS envelope to Elijah before quickly scurrying out of the ring.]

It appears that the pamphlet that you sent me has arrived. You splurged a little bit to have it sent so quickly, I’m appreciative of your concern for me to learn about…yourself. I am willing to learn, James. I want to learn all about you and your weakness. Your petty obsession with yourself and championship gold. Your delusions that lead you into the absurd notion that you are anywhere near the level of skill required to topple me. I look forward to learning about all of this. But….

[The same servant that came into the ring earlier returns with a cigar and lighter.]

Let me tell you something. Your history, while interesting means…. THIS much to me.

[Elijah lights his cigar before lighting the Pamphlet on fire, letting it fall to the canvas before stomping the flame out.]

You are a worthless little punk who has no idea what he is in for. You will be tortured. THERE WILL BE BLOOD AND PAIN LIKE EVEN THE MOST BRUTAL GLASS WALLZ MATCH OF YOUR GENERATIONS HEYDAY CAN’T EVEN MATCH. YOU WILL SUFFER MY FISTS FOR MY HAVING SUFFERED LISTEN TO YOU TALK ENDLESSLY ABOUT THINGS I CARE ABSOLUTELY NOTHING ABOUT.

You seem to be in need of an education of Elijah Stewart. There are a few things I can help you with now since you seem so clueless.

1.       I don’t consider beating Nathan Fiora that big of an accomplishment.

 

2.       I don’t honestly care what your opinions of how I treat or speak to women. They are just as inferior to me as you are. In fact, they are considered higher up the food chain to me because they are pleasant to look at and fuck…while I imagine sleeping with you would be full of you praising yourself and just boring overall.

3.       I care nothing for what you must say about me. Your childish attempts to draw my anger weren’t necessary at all. I have every intention of wiping you off the face of the earth and ending your career even without you providing extra incentive. I’m not going to rush into this match wanting to beat you so more because you’re “the almighty Drastik”. That is just giving you power. That is giving you a mental and emotional edge that I have absolutely no desire to acquiesce to you.

 

4.       I have no desire to be King…but if the crown is there, I’m more than willing to take it by force. Want though isn’t the chief matter, is it? It’s strength. Of which I have plenty…and certainly more than you.

 

5.       While you refuse to acknowledge that your time is ending and mine is about to begin, I sit back and laugh, knowing that my triumph will be made even more enjoyable in the weeks and months to come as you fade back into your depression and self-imposed exile, this time for good.

 

I fully intend on making Voltage a blood-soaked grassland of desolation and despair. Frankly, to me you are nothing more than the third act of a very elaborate play, the man with the good looks and sparkling resume inserted into the film to make everyone believe that they were watching the hero in action every time you speak and move.

But…they die. And the viewer is left psychologically shocked. Completely stunned by the realization that the person they thought was the hero turned out to be just another person marked for death.

On Sunday, a ring just like the one I’m standing in will be our battleground. For YOU, it will also be the burial ground for your career.

Do not grieve though. You’ll have company. Your partner, Jakob, Nathan and others who are too worthless to even mention are waiting for you. And once I’m finished with you, the winner of the Showman/Caine match will be along shortly.

Welcome to your death...I'll try to make it quick.

EMPIRE Promo #1: “Pretty Vacant”

(It's a snowy day out in the Colorado home of EAW Wrestlers Laura Laine and Kelly Hackenschmidt. On the balcony of the appartment stood Laura Laine by the wall with the camera across the balcony. Despite it being quite a cold day, all Laura wore was a yellow “Nevermind the Bollocks, here's The Sex Pistols” t-shirt and a pair of skinny blue jeans. She had a cup of coffee in her main hand as she looked up to the camera.)

“Elena Miles,”

(Laura shook her head and crossed her arms, placing one leg on the wall at the end of the balcony.)

“Look, I want to be impressed by you, I really do, seeing as though your brother is one half of the Tag-team Champions with Matt Ryder, yet after hearing everything you said; all I could think about was the fact that you really are just the same basic bitch I’ve dealt with my entire life. Pretty, sure- Pretty Vacant. They all claim their superiority all because their parents were some big shots or the successors of some big shot when in fact when the last bell of class ends nobody actually gives a shit! Because honestly, when I hear you talk, complain and bicker, all I hear is you being just annoying as the modern day feminists that you claim to hate. But you wanna know what I really think about women like you?”

“Well, here's some facts for you, you may downgrade the way I dress, the fact that I have a boyfriend with a rather gender-neutral name or the fact that I cover up a body like this. Yet you really seem unaware that when it comes to me, you’re gonna need more than just little small time bickery when it comes to me. Because the ones who's asses I’ve made my money kicking have been the entitled upper class who take their money for granted and think that just because I worked retail to pay for my training that I am not on your level. Well, I’m afraid that is wrong. You see, most people forget that I scratched and clawed my way up to where I am today, ready to impress both Cailin Dillon and Brody Sparks and make sure they know exactly why they should be afraid of me. You see, sure, by typical standards I am considered rather attractive, yet here's the thing sis, beauty fades. And no plastic surgery is going to change that when your body breaks down and you become the Pro-wrestling equivalent to Madonna. Maybe that day you'll be the rancid one. Which again brings me to you mentioning my music tastes; now personally I don't see the appeal in most rap and pop groups. So what? The serious question I have to ask is; what does that have to do with wrestling again? You know, the sport we're supposed to compete in on a Friday Night against another one of your entitled rich brats who seem to run rampant around this place. But either way, where I come from on the streets; you wouldn't last a single day. You’ll think that you're owed something because you live in such a cozy mansion, yet in fact the moment you rub someone the wrong way you end up either addicted to coke and selling handjobs for crack money all because you challenged the wrong girl to a fight and ended up embarrassed for talking shit and not being able to back it up. It's why Manami Takahashi and Amy-Jane both thought they could handle me, but at the end of the day they ended up tapping out the way I would recommend anyone to do if they ever had to be in the ring against me, but you know what? I don't, you know why? Because when people learn the hard way it stays drilled in your brain and ends with them finally figuring out that I am just the woman you don't want to cross. Because you want to know the difference between me, you and Veena Adams? Because although all three of us are either related to or dating someone on the men’s roster; there's still the fact that I didn't necessarily need Kelly Hackenschmidt to get myself up into the top, on my own I am a standalone talent and can actually teach you how to use that training properly without making a complete fool of yourself on national television. Because if you actually saw the matches I have been in; I have still maintained perhaps one of the most dominating displays empire has ever seen! And Thursday night, right as the main event is concerned, Cailin Dillon and Brody Sparks both get a front row seat to see just exactly I have been doing since the moment I came to EAW! In fact, Brody Sparks being considered a member of the infamous Sanitorium should know second hand that if there is one lady EAW has that in terms of technical ability and hard-hitting action should not be taken lightly, it doesn't matter if you want to put this on hard mode, I’m still gonna make it actually known that no schoolgirl gossip is going to bring you anywhere. In fact if you really want to make sure you actually have a chance against me, I suggest you do us all a favor and cut the smack talk, nobody's buying it honey.”

(She puts her hands together and shakes her hands together. Glaring at the camera.)

“Now as for Veena Adams, let me ask, is it already possible to say something that hasn't already been said about her? I mean seriously, it looks like DEDEDE's sister or whatever relative has been keeping it in the family when she was conceived, because there ain't no way this girl was born in the right state of mind. I mean, who in their right mind would call herself The Killer Queen and not ask Queen to get the rights to enter to their song of the same name? That’s mentally insane right there. I mean, sure, The Brits have the old 'God Save The Queen’ statement. But she ain't no human being! Veena, your first match is going to be no Holiday in the Sun. Because although you are as much Pretty Vacant with bodies that look like they wanna keep their cheerleader years around them like they're still seventeen. Unfortunately whoever told you that it was possible to keep yourself relevant with looks alone. Because I ain't gonna be done with either of you until I’ve locked you both into submission!”

(She takes her foot off the wall and glares directly at the camera, her smile fading away)

“Thursday night ain't gonna be pretty or vacant for either of you the moment I walk out that curtain. You see, money may not be on my side; but momentum and the people who paid their hard earned money to see my face are! Because now, as someone who actually got here the way it should be done and by flaunting myself like some dumb bitch doesn't know the meaning of a real fight because she lives a life where her worst worry is what color her nails are, because I actually care for what I have been given. So come Thursday night, Nevermind the Bollocks, you're both getting Laurafied!”

(She points to the camera as it fades to black)

The pursuit, even of the best things, ought to be calm and tranquil. The more tranquil someone becomes, the greater is their success, their influence, their power for good. Calmness of mind is one of the beautiful jewels of wisdom. It's better to die in pursuit of your dreams than to live a life without hope. An object in possession seldom retains the same charm that it had in pursuit. To become something greater than you were yesterday, last week, last month? That's always going to be an arduous pursuit no matter what the obstacles are. Round two presents yet another obstacle similar by the odds perhaps, but the result itself may be what makes the pursuit for round three an even more arduous endeavor than the previous. Tyler Parker didn't understand how determined this elitist was for the pursuit of something as simple as a mere triumph. Parker didn't prepare for this elitist, he wasn't ready like Devan Dubian will be. A crown awaits Devan at the throne. A crown that should've belonged to him long ago, but nonetheless an achievement that has eluded his grasp. This is not of concern to me and my pursuit for more than some crown. Oh, yes. See, Devan is looking to add to his legacy, and is not in the humble beginnings trying to build one. When legacies are being built any opportunity that comes your way you see as another opportunity to help build your legacy. This match will be much more difficult than last week as I figured would be the case. It could've been Nico Borg just as easily, but there is a certain respect I've gained from Devan, this I know. However, just as Devan made his vigilance clear last time when there was little at stake, I will deal in the same way this time around being mindful that I'm in there in that ring with another tenacious competitor that will stop at nothing to advance to that next round. Devan knows what he can expect from this elitist, and he's going to meticulously break down the finer points of where I come up short compared to him again just like last time. I can't blame him, and at the same time he still has to prove it in that ring. This time I will be seeking a different result than from last time. I make no excuses for wins and losses anymore. I was beaten by a better man back in November. This time? This time the better man, the better of the two of us won't be on the better half of the result this coming Showdown. This elitist refuses to go down at all this time. Devan Dubian won't be repeating the same mistakes as Tyler Parker. Devan Dubian won't walk away from this fight like Tyler Parker. Devan Dubian will show all the heart and passion Tyler Parker has lost along with his very aura. Through it all though it will make no difference this time. This time Devan Dubian will come to find out why this elitist wants this just a little bit more. There is no obstacle that I can can't see myself overcoming at this point. There's more glory that comes when overcoming the greater challenges. I don't treat any instance of triumph different from the last or the next. Devan has exorcised his demons already, but he hasn’t done it all, and that is what still drives him. I have said already before  recently that I've not done much of anything notable yet, but every little step is counting toward furthering my evolution. I'm not expected to win, but I'm expecting to win this week and that's just something Devan is going to have to deal with.

There will be no missteps this week. There is no room for error. I realize that every little thing I say could end up coming off as nothing but empty promises, but nobody ever became anything in this company without believing they would do something special. So it stands to reason that even in Devan Dubian’s time of service here there is still hesitation on his part to completely give respect to someone like me for what I'm trying to accomplish, something that goes beyond this tournament, as I've previously stated. He's just going to have to find out in that ring. Once the bell rings I will be taking my time in there. There won't be any anxiousness for me as was the case last week. Last week I wanted to get right to the match. This week is just the opposite, but only because I need to take my time. There is no need to play right into Devan’s hands. It's just as I warned Parker, and that is that this isn't the end, only the beginning. You can take that to the bank!

(The scene opens to Drastik sitting at the same table that he was a couple days ago, cereal boxes with Elijah Stewart scattered across the floor, bowls and bowls of Lucky Charms without the marshmallows sitting across from him. He is still wearing his Ahren Fournier tank top and pajama pants and hasn’t shaved in days. Drastik reaches into a box and pulls out another marshmallow, hesitating, before eating it. He is very obviously sick of this bit and thinks that by the next promo he should drop it because it definitely can’t be healthy, ESPECIALLY in preparation for a King of Elite tournament match. Like really, why on earth would he even decide to eat Lucky Charms marshmallows in the week leading up to such a big match? I don’t know. Comedy kills. Drastik points toward the camera, half-dazed and begins speaking.)
 
Alright new guy, who isn’t really a new guy because he’s been in the professional wrestling industry but apparently has had his career shortened because he can’t stop shoplifting Hostess donuts from 7-11: I heard you. I get that you’re coming off of what appears to be a pretty big win against a former Hardcore Champion. I get that you’re pumped up and excited because you went from being one of twenty-five guys in this tournament to one of twelve. I think that anyone in your position would react that way, celebrate the way you are, try to ride the hot hand and keep on moving forward. Unfortunately, it seems that amidst all the hysteria, you failed to realize two things. Firstly, while everyone else has got it pretty easy from the looks of things, you’ve been slated against someone who’s got more championship pedigree than you have indecent exposure charges. And secondly, as the new guy, you missed an opportunity to take a tour around this place—see what Voltage is really like. I don’t know what pamphlet Carlos Russo handed you before telling you how you’d have to start out by making the minimum contract but that you can “work your way up”, but whatever that pamphlet contained, it was incredibly wrong. This brand doesn’t have talent spewing from all sides. In fact, this brand has scraped the bottom of the barrel trying to get guys to at least pass off as credible while it circles the EAW Draft on its calendar over and over again. I know you’re new, but really, take a good long look. Do you think that guys like Jakob DeLion and Jericho Cross and Tommy Meyer would have a credible shot on any other show? Do you think that Voltage would reasonably take a chance on guys like Zack Crash or Carson Ramsay who have obviously lost their touch if this place was filled with talent? Do you think that Voltage would even bother with guys like Aren Mistletoe or Nasir Moore or Nathan Fiora, for that matter, despite their continued inability to get CLOSE to their projected ceilings? Hell, I’ll tell you right now that Voltage wouldn’t be giving contracts to guys like you and me because we have bad news written all over our names whether it’s because our residency is a North Carolina jailhouse or because we’ve been a disease that’s festered on this company every single time we come back. You don’t have to look around to realize that Voltage is comprised of scraps stapled together to pass off as a legitimate, contending brand. Sure, there are bright spots scattered here and there, most notably Ahren Fournier—my very best friend and possible soul-mate—but other than him and a few others, Voltage is a cesspool and a laughing stock. No one even takes our bracket of the King of Elite credibly at this point.
 
So no, Elijah, you don’t get to come in and beat on Nathan Fiora and think that you’re the conqueror of premiere talent. I took care of Nathan Fiora as quickly, if not more quickly, than you were able to, and I didn’t even think much of it. I know what the landscape of this brand is scattered with—either wash-ups or guys who have nothing to put their name to. You’re in a very interesting position though, Elijah, because with your lurking in the shadows of professional wrestling, you have managed to become washed up while ALSO having absolutely nothing to hang your hat on. I mean really, beating Nathan Fiora? Come on man. I beat Ahren Fournier—future world champion and poster-boy of this storied company—last week and I’m not even over here bragging about it. And the reason why I’m not is because there are bigger accomplishments out there than winning or losing in a week. You seem to think that you can live a storybook life by coming into this company unproven and slipping ahead of the pack because you want it more, because you’ve got a set of skills that this company has overlooked for years. But this isn’t like the year where Eclipse Diemos slipped into the King of Elite tournament because the guy who topped him couldn’t stay faithful to his wife and was put on time out in some secluded Marriage Counseling ward. You aren’t as lucky as Eclipse was; you’re actually quite unlucky. Because you could have, in theory, drew a match against Mike Showman or Solomon Caine—two guys that, who knows, you could possibly beat just like Nathan Fiora—you could have believed for one more week that you were destined to sit at the throne and wear the crown as the Scottish King. But unfortunately, for one reason or another, you had to go from edging out a guy who’s lost his way to being steamrolled by someone who knows exactly what needs to be executed in order to get what I’ve been after.
 
(Drastik reaches into his pocket and pulls out a crumpled pamphlet that he attempts to straighten out before presenting it to the camera for the moment. The front of it says “Who Drastik is For Dummies” He unfolds it to the first page to show a long list of dates, times, and other information about when and how he won his long list of championships and other accomplishments. He nods at the camera and then holds up a finger before turning it sideways and letting the pamphlet folds drop. Rather than being an apparent trifold pamphlet, the folds continue to fall until it hits the floor.)
 
Oh yeah, I forgot to mention. Since I realized that you’re new and the overturn in the GM’s office has probably left you without the proper guide around the premises, I went out of my way to actually make you a pamphlet so that you know what’s going on for once and can be informed of what exactly you’re getting yourself into. Sure, you seem to have at least a little understanding thanks to a quick message from Lance Hart telling you that I’ve held a couple titles and stuff, but I figured that in the spirit of you bragging about beating Nathan Fiora last week and your insistent need to continue hanging your hat on whatever value comes from that, I went ahead and listed all the matches I’ve won over the course of the last near-decade of my career. Every single one, buddy. I’m talking my first-round Hardcore Championship Tournament match against Hey Yo Chico alllllll the way up to beating Ahren Fournier—my best friend—and Jakob Dandelion last week in the first round of King of Elite. I think if you go all the way down to page forty-seven, you might catch Nathan Fiora’s name listed on there too, but what do I know? It’s your pamphlet now, after all. You can look through it all you want. And maybe at some point of looking through that list, you can get a sense of how meaningless and unimpressive it is to beat a guy like Nathan Fiora. A victory is a victory. But I can assure you that I’ve got that victory beat in both quantity and substance. Actually, wait, I lied. This list isn’t from my win against Hey Yo Chico to Ahren Fournier—my absolute best friend—and Jakob Dandelion; all the way at the very bottom, I took the liberty of putting Elijah Stewart down there too. After all, I figured that when you’re eliminated from this King of Elite tournament and you’ve got free time to do some reading and studying up on what this company and this garbage brand are really like, you’ll be hoping to have a pamphlet that is absolutely up to date. Maybe it’ll motivate you, Elijah.
 
ALSO, for the record, I don’t know who this Alana chick is because I don’t pay much attention to who you are or who you bring to the ring, but come on. It’s 2017 dude. Don’t use her ability to defeat guys on the roster as a put-down. That’s pretty sexist of you. Anyways, I’ll send you the pamphlet in the mail and maybe if you’re feeling generous you can send me back a license plate with my name on it or whatever you convicts do to show appreciation.
 
(Drastik quickly fumbles with the pamphlet to fold it back up and gives up halfway, mouthing toward the cameraman to do it for him. The cameraman hesitates before setting the camera down on the table. The scene fades to black before solid, white text flashes on the screen as it always does. After, the package concludes.)
  
SAIL