Anzac Cup 2020 : Show

[thejerseydevildiva]

Act 1: The Hunter becomes the Hunted


The scene opens on the beautiful city of Jersey Shore. The night had come on and the streets were mostly bare. The streetlights cast their soft glow to the streets below as the traffic lights changed color for the few cars that were still out. The local bars and clubs now laid silent and the few restaurants that were open sat empty except for the drive thru's. The smells from the local fast food places drifted on the air mixing with the salty air that drifted from the open water that sat at the edge of the empty beach. The shops along the boardwalk were all closed and by this time of year would be filled with tourists looking for cheap plastic souvenirs to take home with them.  The camera moves along the quiet streets and soon we see an all to familiar area of the city. The high walls around the massive homes could be seen and soon we see the closed gates of the Canelli Estate. It was quiet but we see a body lying on the ground within the gates of the estate. The camera moves along the long driveway, and soon comes to a rest on the main estate where we see no lights were on. The camera moves to the interior of the estate as we see a man dressed in a dark suit moving along the upper hallway and toward a set of double doors. He opens the door slowly and steps inside. He moves across the floor and stops beside the bed where we see Joanne lying in the middle of the bed. He touches softly her eyes open.

Canelli Soldier: Don Canelli...

Joanne: What is it?

Canelli Soldier: We have intruders on the grounds.

Joanne sits up and looks at him with her eyes shifting to a bright red color before going back to their normal color. She gets out of the bed, as the man looks at her. She seemed to almost have a strange unearthly beauty as she stood in front of him.

Canelli Soldier: Do you want me to wake Reno and Rude? Your brother maybe?

Joanne: No, let them rest. I'll handle it. How many have we lost?

Canelli Soldier: We've lost three.

Joanne: Return to your post for now. Catch any stragglers if you see any.

Canelli Soldier: Yes ma'am.

He turns and walks out of the room, as she hears someone outside of her balcony doors. She lays back on the bed as the doors open, and in steps someone dressed in black. They move to the bed and reach down to choke Joanne only to have her sit up, and grabs the figure by the neck and tosses them to the floor. The figure looks up at her, as she smiles revealing the fangs in her mouth. She leaps down on him as the sound of muffled cries are heard and soon there was silence. Joanne lets a growl escape her throat as she gets to her feet pushing back long strands of her dark hair from her face. Smears of blood could be seen at the corners of her mouth and she stands in front of the mirror and wipes the blood away before she walks to her bedroom door and opens it slowly seeing the hallway was empty.

Joanne: (Voice Over) How many times are they goin to try to and stop me? I'll always be ready for anythin' that they can throw at me. Whoever it is that came after me this time... They re not goin' to leave alive.

She moves on silent feet moving along the hallway seeing no one, but hearing voices coming from somewhere below her.

Joanne: (Voice Over) They don't realize what they have done. I can smell their fear, hear their heart beating in their chests, and the smell of their blood moving their veins fills me with joy, and the thrill of the hunt just makes me...

She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes as if sensing the intruders within the massive home.

Joanne: (Voice Over) Happy.

She slips down the stairs and sees one standing with their back to Joanne. He moves forward and turns not seeing Joanne behind him. He shrugs and moves into the living room. Joanne watches from the shadows as they move through the house. One of them stands before a case filled with shinning titles. They go to smash the glass but a set of hands grabs them from behind and drags them into the shadows. The sound of breaking bones is heard as a muffled cry is heard before we see Joanne getting to her feet as a sound of a gun being cocked behind her. Joanne smirks as she turns and grabs the figure's wrist, dropping him to his knees. Joanne hits the masked man with with a kick to the face dropping him to the floor. She steps on his neck and moves her foot in a swift move as a crack is heard.

Joanne: (Voice Over) In just a few days Frostbite and I will be standing side by side to take on Paul Soutter, and Pierce. My KGB Brothers! Zoran has no idea what he has done! Neither side is goin' to go down that easy, but we all know that only one team will walk away with the win and move onto the next round. I know Paul is goin' to do everythin' that he can to keep Frostbite and I at bay but it's not goin' to be enough. I'm lookin' for that win after I got cheated out of my last win and MY Title! Not this time. I will be ready for anythin' that Paul and Pierce can throw at us!

Another shot is heard echoing through one of the rooms toward the back of the house.

Joanne: (Voice Over) Paul I've always thought of you as a friend, and never held anythin' against you. But when we step into that ring, all friendship ends. Its nothin' personal... Just business.  I know that Zoran has this planned so all of KGB would face each other to break us apart but I won't let him do it. We are the best of the best and we will prove it that night! Even if that means that Frostbite and I have to beat you and Pierce.

Joanne moves through the shadows and toward her office. The sound of things being knocked over, and glass smashing is heard coming from within. She stops in the doorway, and watches for a moment before she moves with speed and has the guy by the throat and up against the wall. Her nails were deep into his throat, as she let out a growl and her eyes were now glowing bright red.

Joanne: Who in the hell sent you?

Man: F-F-Fuck off!

Joanne looks at him and squeezes a bit more.

Joanne: I would chose your next words carefully. Now I'll ask you again... Who sent you?

Man: It was... I ain't goin' to give you shit!

Joanne tosses him to the floor in frustration and puts her foot on his chest.

Joanne: Fine, you want to play that game then I'll tell you what I'm goin' to do... I'll let you live... You're the only one goin' back to whoever sent you in the first place... But just know I'll be ready for when you come back with more.

Man: The next time we come at you, you will die!

Joanne: Sure... You can try... But like everyone else so far, you'll fail.

She kicks the man in the head as she sits in her chair, and lights a cigar. A ring of smoke circles her head, as the smell of cherry floats on the air.

Joanne: (Voice Over) No matter what they throw at me, no matter who it is I will always stand tall. Maybe Zoran grew a pair and tried to take me out so he wouldn't have to deal with me any more, but I somehow doubt that. As for my match and the others that are in this tournament, just know that I will stand and I will fight all the way to the end and frostbite and I will win this tournament no matter what it takes. If any of you think you have what it takes to stop me then bring everythin' that you have into the middle of the ring and try to stop us. This is our time to shine and we will take what is rightfully ours. We are the Mafioso and we get paid to kick your ass. See you soon and good luck you're goin' to need it.

The office doors open and Reno and Rude walk in seeing Joanne sitting behind the desk with her feet up on the corner.

Reno: Boss are you alright?

Rude: Holy shit! What happened? Why didn't you wake us?

Joanne smiles.

Joanne: I had it under control. Besides you needed some rest. I need to make a phone call. But...

She points to the one guy that was still left alive.

Reno: Is he still alive?

Joanne: Yeah. Toss him out before I change my mind.

Rude: Who sent them?

Joanne: He wouldn't tell me. I want him followed.

Reno: Are you sure that's a good idea?

Joanne: Not really but I know if they come back we'll be ready and this time I'll know who wants me dead.

Rude: Good point... C'mon sleepin' beauty...

Reno and Rude drag the guy out as Joanne turns the chair around to face the window as the first rays of the sun starts to stream through the window as the scene fades to black.

[ManMountainFierce]

The scene opens to the Storyteller sitting next to a nice campfire somewhere in West Virginia.  He is here to tell a story. A story of truths, legacies, and brutality. James pays him good money to talk in front of the camera to the people.  So here it is, the story as James believes it should be told. No bullshit. No exaggerations to pad his legacy, as legacy is history.


The Storyteller: The year was 2001 and frankly James was not very good. 


James Fierce: Not good at all.


The Storyteller: He floundered during the shitty little fed wars and was an afterthought sidekick in a stable that did not last the tales of time, but alas he did overcome these times. 


James Fierce: I did.


The Storyteller: He met Soutter.


James Fierce: I did.


The Storyteller: The two of them collaborated and created a little stable named the KGB.


James Fierce: I did, and yes we did.


The Storyteller: Fierce was there during the creation of Ring Syndicate, which while ultimately a failure, lead us here to where we are today, SWAT. 


James Fierce: T'is true. I'm here...Teaming with Soutter... in 2020.


The Storyteller: The story goes deeper though. Chapters have not been read.


James Fierce: Next?


The Storyteller: The Next Chapter saw Fierce dominate the island regions of SWAT and life was good. The money was easy, the competition  was competent, if not exactly world class, but James and Soutter were invited to compete in the land of Hardkore, and while the team did not have the golden success they hoped for, they were competitive, but James would soon see new opportunities.


James Fierce: Opportunities. 


The Storyteller: And that brass ring was grabbed with and iron fist. 


James Fierce: Twice, but whose counting.


The Storyteller: But James' attention had become stretched. Competitive eating became a money maker. His godlike status in China elevated him to profit status. His obsession with the hardkore funny man reached its peek, and that was that. Fifteen years. Gold. Friendships lost and friendships renewed over time. The KGB has been lurking, and succeeding without Fierce, albeit the membership at times  is not quite what James would hope it would be, but hellsbell every group has a Paul Roma or a Lawrence Pfohl.


James Fierce: It could be worse... *Flashback to a Dojo that can only be described as a McDojo. Shudders*



The Storyteller: Alas, that brings us to the hear and now. James and Soutter tagging again in a tournament,  almost twenty years in the making, and Fierce is ready for blood. Fierce is ready for the breaking of bones and the stretching of joints in ways they aren't physiological supposed to be bent.


James Fierce: These are the things that I enjoy, but who knows...


The Storyteller: He is just Fierce after all.


James Fierce: Tis true.


Scene ends into the campfire.

[frostbite]

Written with SWAT and Kira's permission

Jeremy Tucker.. I understand Warren Webber is a busy man this evening. He is trying to get some words from Ultra Kira.

Andrew Fulton.. Busy man? I think Frostbite conducted is own interview earlier so, I do not think he was too busy.

Jeremy Tucker.. Any event, I do not have time to argue with you.

Andrew Fulton.. Please Paul could get the homeless person down the street to do better interviews than Warren can. I am sure he could pay him cheaper and get me a raise in the process.

Jeremy Tucker.. Warren is a great and what he does, he gets all the inside scoops.

Andrew Fulton.. My barber gets better scoops than Warren. You are saying that maybe my barber should be conducted interviews.

Jeremy Tucker.. You have a barber? You are about bald and you need a barber.

Andrew Fulton.. And you have room to talk there with that big some on your head.

Jeremy Tucker.. I think Warren has caught up to Ultra Kira.

BACKSTAGE

Andrew Fulton.. If I were Ultra Kira I would just ignore Warren.

Jeremy Tucker.. A tough first round mstch drawing Johnnie Valentine and Syberus.

Andrew Fulton.. I will agree but if I had a partner like Tarrasque in my corner I might feel good about my chances. The man can be a one man wrecking crew.

Jeremy Tucker.. Can be big man be trusted? He might lose his cool in there and get his team DQ.

Ultra Kira is walking backstage.

Warren Webber.. Excuse, Ultra Kira can I please get a word with you about your first round match.

Ultra Kira is about to turn around but it caught a with a huge boot to the side of the face. We see two large individuals standing over, one is wearing a gray hoodie with matching sweats and brown boots, the other individual is wearing a black tee shirt with black jeans and black steel toe boots.

Jeremy Tucker.. That is Doomsday and Lucifer. What are they doing here? They are not in this tournament.

Andrew Fulton.. They should not be in this tournament in the first place, because they have done nothing, if you want to call a win last week against Frostbite in a handicap match a win, then you are crazy as your commish is for booking that match.

The two stand over Ultra Kira, as Doomsday reaches down and pulls them up by their throat.

Doomsday.. So we are not allowed to be in this tournament. Somebody please tell me, what gives you the right to be involve in this thing.

Doomsday then tosses Ultra Kira across the backstage area.

Andrew Fulton.. You would think Doomsday was playing darts.

Lucifer stalks Ultra Kira as they pull them up off the ground, as they toss them into a nearby chest as Ultra Kira back slams hard up against it.

Lucifer.. I am so damn tired of this company screwing us over time and time again. Someone must pay for this,

Lucifer pulls up Ultra Kira and picjs them up and powerbombs them right on that chest.

Jeremy Tucker.. Dear God, did you that sicken thud as Ultra Kira hit that chest.

Doomsday pulls Ultra Kira off that chest and fires off a series of rights and lefts.

Andrew Fulton.. This is all about not being in the tournament.

Doomsday picks up Ultra Kira and tosses them right into a nearby wall like a dart. Lucifer then pulls them up back off the floor and throws a series of haymakers as Ultra Kira falls backwards and out onto the entrance.

Jeremy Tucker.. The three have made there way out here.

Lucifer pulls up Ultra Kira and connects with an over head suplex as there back hits here up against the titan tron

Andrew Fulton.. Ultra Kira folded up.

Doomsday picks up Ultra Kira as he walks them over to the edge of the ramp. Lucifer grabs them by the throat as Doomsday dies as well.

Jeremy Tucker.. Guys do not do this.

Doomsday and Lucifer host up Ultra Kira and slams them below right through a table.

Andrew Fulton.. Dear God, what a drop.

Jeremy Tucker.. Medical staff is right there.

Doomsday.. This is a small sample.

Lucifer.. Tonight we are going to stay around and we just might get involved in this tournament any way we see fit.

Doomsday.. I dare anybody to try and stop us.

The two look down as the medical staff is attending to Ultra Kira.

Jeremy Tucker.. What does that mean for any team in this tournament.

Andrew Fulton.. I have to wonder will Ultra Kira be in any condition later on to team with Tarrasque.

[bloodiedfox]

It's amazing the kind of promo you can cut just using a supply closet and a red lightbulb.

We fade up to Bloodied Fox and Brendan Harding exiting the apparent site of their first promo. Harding removes his wolf mask, enjoying the easier access to breathing that provides.

It was good, though I wasn't expecting you to lean so hard into the anti-SWAT thing.

Fox shrugs.

I figure the die has been cast on that one ever since I got pissed at Team Fairtex. I can't really take it back now, so it seems best to run with it and be the heel here. I can live with boos in a company I'm not actually part of.

Makes sense. Just feels weird to be the bad guy.

Shades of grey, hon, shades of grey. It's not like we're going to run around cheating behind the ref's back or tricking ladies into wearing Darth Vader costumes and getting them kicked into a Sarlacc pit.

Brendan looks at him incredulously.

I swear, that's a thing that happened here.

Brendan sighs and shakes his head.

Probably still less divisive than The Rise of Skywalker. Anyway, I guess we wait and see what our opponents' response is.

Yep.

Mind if I take the lead on the next promo? I don't want folks who don't watch AWF or J-ROK to think I'm just trying to do a 98 Kane impression.

Go for it.

---

Some time later, we see Bloody Zen Romance in front of the identical twin of location K-JAX and Lunchbox Larry replied to them from.

Yo. I'm Brendan Harding, and yes folks, I do have a voice...

He grins and jerks a thumb at Fox.

I just like hearing his. Anyway, looks like our red light special got a pair of replies, and oh boy are they a contrasting pair. Which fits, given the two guys making them. First up to bat was K-JAX, who seemed intent on ticking off every box on the cliché list. Claims to be being taken lightly despite being complimented on your talent?

Check.

Decides a casual mention we're a couple counts as going on ad nauseam about our sexual orientation?

Check.

Thinks having a larger perspective than the first match in a one night tournament is a lack of focus?

Check.

It wasn't all unoriginal, admittedly. Claiming JROK was the only place with low enough standards to hire me was a new one. Still dumb, sure, but new. I mean, AWF hired a chef who proceeded to win the Phoenix title, but clearly I would have been a stretch. Not like I won my first match at JROK. Wait, no, I did. Ah well.

See, K-Log, you can pitch a hissy fit about how we didn't talk about you enough, but since you literally just got here, what exactly were we forgetting to mention? You guys had one match, which you won, which we acknowledged and congratulated you on. We discussed how your contrasting styles compliment each other and make you an effective unit. We mentioned how your lack of experience as a team makes it easier to divide and conquer. Hon, am I missing anything?

Well you're saying 'we' when it was me, but otherwise you're bang on.

Thank you. God, it's so nice when people listen. Which you didn't, K. You ask why we're here if we think SWAT's beneath us, when Fox made it plenty clear that this is about proving a point. SWAT may host the ANZAC Cup, but it's a tournament open to teams from all over the XHF Network. A lot of eyes are trained on this show tonight, and that means there's lots of eyes to see us show that when the Mexican standoff over who pulls the plug from LGBTKO's life support is done, Bloody Zen Romance will be there to take its place. You said we view the tag division as beneath us, but nothing could be further from the truth.

Brendan points to Fox.

I have seen the effort and will this man has put into being one third of the XHF Tag Team Champions, and it's a damn sight more than either Ryan Young and Seth Dillinger have. If he's not still holding a tag belt by the end of the four way ladder match at the XHF Rumble, it will not be through a failing on his part, but a lack of desire from Ryan Young to help beat 3 hungry and motivated teams. If tag wrestling meant nothing to either of us, we simply wouldn't be here. Yet here we are, ready to go toe to toe with 15 other teams to show that we are the most effective unit in the XHF today. You want to accuse someone of thinking they're too good for this, start with the people who aren't here. Where are The Icons? Where's High Finance? Where are The Dark Stars, or Dos Angeles, or The Borgs? Where are the other two thirds of the tag champions? They're not here, but we are. You talk about how badly you want that shiny trophy, like the freakish lovechild of a magpie and a peacock that you are, but that is nothing compared to how badly we want to show every single person watching what exactly we are made of by taking down everyone in our path, starting with you.

Then, after all of K-JAX's verbal K-JAXing off, we get Lunchbox Larry with a nice, pleasant bit of chat. It almost sounds cliché to say someone seems too nice to be part of the wrestling industry, but Larry really does seem too nice for this business. Don't ever lose that sunny disposition, Lunchbox. Wrestling, and quite frankly the world, can always do with more nice people in it. That said, I'm afraid Fox and I will have to decline your gracious dinner invitation, as we already have plans to dine out on success, with a spot of victory for dessert. You're a promising young talent, and honestly so is your partner, even with his attitude, so don't let the arse kicking you're about to receive leave you sour. In spite of K-JAX's potshots, this is nothing personal. You're both simply in our way.

Give Aunt Seamus our regards.

[edwarddubin0604]

(Team Fairtex is walking past a monitor and sees Bloodied Zen Romance's promo and shake their heads smiling in a told you so smirk.)

Tong Fairtex: "Okay we get it Bloodied Zen Romance we get it. You do your come out of the closet routine as if you enjoyed it and then whine about everyone targeting your sexuality. I guess that just proved everyone's point that you are hypocritical and it proves your opponents were right all along."

Phantam Fairtex: "But hark oh brother Tong. Do we hear Bloodied Zen Romance braying like the jackasses that they are. Do we hear Bloodied Fox getting upset that we once again attacked their sexuality by our very words and statements declaring us correct all along."

Tong Fairtex: "Seriously, Phantam did we hear them once again trash SWAT and their competition in the XHF Global Tag Team Championship."

Phantam Fairtex: "Yeah you just did and you know what that reminds us of."

Tong Fairtex: "I know what that kind of arrogance reminds me of."

Phantam Fairtex: "Yeah that brings back memories."

Tong Fairtex: "You see Bloodied Zen Romance there were these two assholes who called themselves the CCS and throughout the Anzac Tournament those two pieces of trash were running roughshot over every team made up of old veterans of both SWAT and Hardkore World and you know what happeed. Yeah they ran into us and we beat them to win the Anzac Cup. Guess where they are now guys if that's what you are? Yeah they're nowhere to be found and probably enjoying the good life acting like they're still important and talking about their overblown glorydays. Sounds familiar Bloodied Zen Romance. Yeah that's going to be you one day so don't get big heads if you know which ones we're talking about."

Phantam Fairtex: "They'll take it as an insult as usual."

Tong Fairtex: "Now getting back to your competitors The Borgs, The Dark Stars and Dos Angeles. They probably decided that preparing for that four way match was more important than shooting your mouths off just to soothe those big overblown egos that will make your head explode or soothe your egos. At least they seem more dedicated than you to the match and more serious than you two."

Phantam Fairtex: "You know here's something that will probably be too hard for those two egomaniacs to answer or even accomplish. What if they meet The Stylistics made up of those two goofballs %110 Syberus and Jonnie 'What's his nickname' Valentine."

Tong Fairtex: "They'll probably laugh until The Stylistics beat them. Imagine a coupe of old geezers beating them."

Phantam Fairtex: "We told you so."

Tong Fairtex: "Wouldn't it be more laughable if those teo sexually mixed up individuals had to face Tuxedo Mask and Rally Jackson."

Phantam Fairtex: "Yeah they'll be wondering where the garbage dump smell came from until they see Rally's ass falling on them. Oh we're so sorry Bloodied Zen Romance that was bigoted wasn't it. So what happens if you meet SWAT's joke of a tag team champions. Yu going to demand they forfeit because of their smell or because you can't really beat them. I'dloveto see youtry tobeat them withoutholding your noses or wearing hazmat suits."

Tong Fairtex: "Yeah that should be an easy guess. Now since you think SWAT's tag teams are below your...."

(They make quote signs.)

Tong Fairtex: "Let's see what you would do if you had to face two really big men who ride Harley's and like to slap twoskinny people around and we're talking about you Bloodied Zen Romance. You wouldn't stand a chance against those guys no if you're the current and not for long XHF Global Tag Team Champions for long. Yeah it would probably ruin tour relationship."

Phantam Fairtex: "You know Frostbite was right about them since they're going to be laying in their own blood if he and Joanne Cannelli gets through with them. She just loves blood and we mean lots and lots of blood no matter where it comes from."

Tong Fairtex: "Now let's switch tosomething more pleasant like out first round match with 'Timeless' Alex Turner and Roxylishus. Now we can understand you're trashing us and you want it easy but it's not going to be that simple Turner. You see we're tougher than you can expect and we're more prepared and focused on winning this tournament than you can ever imagine. We know we both want to win and nobody and nobodyis going to get in our way to win the cup for a second time."

(A member of SWAT's production crew comes up to them.)

Crew Member: "Excuse me Team Fairtex."

Tong Fairtex: "Yeah."

Crew Member: "You have to meet one of your fans."

Phantam Fairtex: "Oh the Anzac Cup meet the fans contest."

Tong Fairtex: "amn you're right. Let's meet the winner."

Phantam Fairtex: "So introduce us to the winner."

(The Crew Member waves at someone and a twelve year old kid and his father comes into camera range.)

Tong Fairtex: "Who's the big fan of ours."

Tommy: "I'm Tommy and this is my dad."

Tong Fairtex: "So you're a big fan of ours."

Tommy: "Yeah."

Phantam Fairtex: "So were you a big fan of ours for a long time."

Tommy: "Ever since I began watching SWAT. You're the coolest tag team even when you were bad."

Tong Fairtex: "Now this kid has great taste in who he likes to wrestle."

Phantam Fairtex: "So Tommy who do you wan to win this tournament."

Tommy: "You."

Tong Fairtex: "Good answer. We're not going to lose to anyone and we're going to kick everyone's asses."

Tommy: "Cool."

Phantam Fairtex: "So how's school going for you."

Tommy: "It's going well."

Phantam Fairtex: "Just remember study and get good grades and get th girl I always say."

Tommy: "Ewww."

Phantam Fairtex: "What's wrong with girls."

Tommy: "The kissing."

Tong Fairtex: "He's got you there Phantam."

Phantam Fairtex: "Hey."

Tong Fairtex: "Just kidding. You know someday you'll meet a great girl and you'll goon dates and do that lips thing."

Tommy: "Lips thing."

Phantam Fairtex: "Yeah."

Crew Member: "The tour."

Tong Fairtex: "Oh yeah the tour of the locker room. So how would you like to meet some of the great talent in the SWAT roster."

Tommy: "What about the other tams."

Tong Fairtex: "We'll meet them since they deseve to meet you too."

Phantam Fairtex: "Well certain ones are too good enough to be bothered."

Tommy: "Why."

Phantam Fairtex: "You'll see Tommy. Oh and since you're a big fan of ours...."

Tong Fairtex: "We're going to not just present you with these...."

(Tong takes off his hoodie and Phantam takes off his cap.)

Phantam Fairtex: "We present to you my cap..."

Tong Fairtex: "Not to mention my hoodie...."

Phantam Fairtex: "Marker please."

(The Crew Member fumbles for something to write with and pulls out a marker.)

Crew Member: "Here you go sir."

Phantam Fairtex: "Thanks."

(He sings his cap."

(Tong takes the marker and signs the hoodie.)

Tong Fairtex: "Here's your officially signed hoodie."

Tommy: "Thanks. Could you also sign my photo of you and my program."

Phantam Fairtex: "Of course."

(They autograph both the program and the photo.)

Tong Fairtex: "There you go. So how about that tour of the roster and th tournament competitors or at least most of them."

Tommy: "Cool."

Tong Fairtex: "Cool. Let's go and enjoy the time behind the scenes."

(They all leave as the cene slowly fades to black.)

[Lucky Linda]

”What a view. What a beautiful country.” Says Lucky Linda La Fey. She is standing on a wooden decking of a holiday house in Apollo Bay Victoria. Her short red hair flutters a little in the wind and she is wearing a blue ‘wanna get lucky? t-shirt.

“The Anzac Cup is a Tournament esteemed in respect and Tradition. It celebrates the past sacrifices of them Anzac soldiers of old, and we, at Syndicate Wrestling and Tradition, we pay tribute to them in our small way, show casing our team work, in the grandest of forms, Tag Team Wrestling. And my partner for this shin dig, the one and only, Radu Matei.” Linda smiles proudly.

“For any of you who have been living under a rock, or are just new fans to us here at SWAT, he has spent the last three months healing his body, after going on the greatest run this federation has seen. He is our longest reigning World Champion. He went out of his way to bring honor and prestige back to that gold belt, and our federation in the process. He is also, the toughest man to have ever set foot in a SWAT ring, and I would know, I faced him” Linda grins. “What a battle that was, 2019 Match of the Year guys, check_it_out.”

“I lost that night.” Linda looks around wistfully. “I have no shame in admitting it. I gave my all, everything I had in me, and it wasn’t enough. Sometimes that’s how it goes. There can only be one winner and there must be a loser. It’s how you conduct yourself along the way to that result that counts.”

“Never give in.” Linda turns to face a second camera. “That’s my motto in life. I may not win them all, but in the end, I know I will come out on top, perseverance is the key. Radu knows what I am all about, and that’s why he selected myself as his tag team partner in this years Tourney, and what a tourney it is, some of the best tag teams SWAT has ever seen, all competing tonight.”

“We got not one.” Linda holds up a finger. “Not two.” She holds up two fingers. “Not three.” She adds a third finger. “BUT FOUR KGB teams competing. All against each other in the first two matches, who will make it to the third round from them teams is anyone’s guess, but rest assured, they will be quite the formidable opponents. Why, just last week on Battleground, Radu and I defeated Timeless and Roxylishus. Two of the brightest stars in all of the XHF, and we took them OUT! “ Linda stares at the camera with victorious satisfaction.

“Speaking of formidable, we then have The Society of the New Breed. Legends in this industry. The Brothers in Anarchy may have gotten a couple over on them the last couple of weeks, but big time players shine in big matches and shows, so I am expecting them to come full force in this baby.“ Linda moves across the patio to lean on the railing. “Not to disregard the Brothers in Anarchy either, they are most certainly on a role, and could well go all the way.”

“Then we have some new teams to SWAT. K-Jax and Larry are most impressive, as is El Combatiente and Dominicus. What a strange pairing them two are, no stranger than Radu and I I suppose.” Linda smiles, a beautiful friendly smile. “Annnd, we have some visitors here, wanting to throw their XHF hats in the ring. To them, I say, welcome. Welcome to SWAT!”

“It’s great that you all have so much pride in your home feds that you come from, you will see, we also have that same pride here in our home, the mighty SWAT! One of you grabbed my attention, for the right or wrong reasons?” Linda ponders her finger on her chin. “That doesn’t really matter, does it, attention is attention, especially in this game. “

“Bloodied Fox.” Linda glares into the camera. “I am talking directly to YOU!” Linda snarls. “You truly are clueless. Bragging of one tiny victory. Against Team Fairtex no less?” Linda shakes her head. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. You judge our whole federation on THAT? That would be like for us to judge the entire AWF on, oh, I don’t know? You?” Linda looks miffed. “You brag your victory was on J Rok? Like our show is not good enough to house it? Was that even a show? It looked more like a 10 minute infomercial”

“Prepare the excuses Fox. Get a whole big list ready, cry into your social media outlets and groups of how you were screwed and lost due to favouritism against you” Linda’s intense glare pierces the lens. “Then, when you have calmed down, if you want to take it further. Come and face me on Battleground! You want to be a girl so bad, our Amazons division could use another member. I will send you back to the AWF two loses from two matches here in SWAT!”

Linda holds her hand up, calming herself. “Everyone else, all the best, I’m READY TO GO!”

[Mongo the Destroyer]

*We move to the back where Lord Dominicus stands in front of the BLACKEST background he found. He looks at the camera and then starts laughing.*

LD: Hahahaha! So the darkest property in the XHF Network, LORD DOMINICUS has been summoned to SWAT! And not only that but I’ve been sought out by Mexico’s most EVIL AND VILE superstar! Lucky Linda? No! Lucky me!

*He rubs his hands together.*

LD: And it gets even better! Our first opponents are some of the most PATHETIC LOSERS in the Saga brand which is the most INADEQUATE stable in the whole Network already. Travis Monroe and that complete wreck that is Wellington Dunne. Oh happy day! We’re not even up against the army idiot or the guy with no real name. Nope, we get the two most background characters in the whole set. I’ve never seen Monroe do anything of note and Dunne’s claims to fame are massive chokes- and I don’t mean his hands gripping throats I mean his entire body gripping losses!

*Dominicus belly laughs at his own jokes*

LD: Oh I’m sure they’re gonna do their best for this comeback tour of sorts but it’s nothing compared to the PURE DARK EVIL being brought by my partner- the most feared of luchadores: El Combatiente!

*He pauses, readjusting himself.*

LD: So you might be thinking, “LORD OF ALL THAT IS BLACK, why are you so excited to have a one-sided match?” That’s a really idiotic question, honestly. It’s a little thing called strategy. You see, if we face the suckiest this tournament has to offer as much as possible, then when we face some real talent- which I’m quickly learning through my matches around the network is a ludicrously relative term- then we stand the greatest chance of making them look like the peons they probably are. RIGHT?

*Dominicus looks off to the side where his tag partner and his partner’s manager have been standing, previously just out of frame*

Javier: Decir que sí.
(Say yes)

Combatiente: SI!
(YES!)

LD: Hahahah! HE’S SO EVIL I LOVE IT! So gird yourself nincompoops! The two MOST EVIL masked wrestlers are about to kick your teeth in with the ferocity of the MIGHTY CORGI! I shall ravage these teams like one of the mighty mini feral hunters destroys a cabbage or young deer in need of its mother. NOTHING SHALL PREVENT OUR DARK CLOUD FROM RUINING YOUR ANZAC DAY! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Oh and the other teams suck too probably. BUT MOSTLY SAGA! YOU GUYS ARE THE WORST!

*Dominicus continues to aggressively taunt his opponents in this manner as he laughs but the camera loses interest and goes to his partner and partner’s manager.*

Combatiente:¿Qué está diciendo?
(What is he saying?)

Javier: Cosas buenas. Todas las cosas buenas.
(Good things. All good things.)

Combatiente: Parece muy enérgico.
(He seems very energetic.)

Javier: De hecho es muy apasionado.
(He is indeed very passionate.)

Combatiente: Desearía poder felicitar a mis oponentes tan a fondo como él.
(I wish I could compliment my opponents as thoroughly as him.)

Javier: Yo también.
(I do too.)

*He looks at his client.*

Javier: Realmente lo hago
(I really do)

*We focus back on the self-proclaimed “Vanta-Black Dark Lord.”*

LD: ....AND THEN WHEN YOU’RE BEGGING FOR HELP WE’LL LET YOU RUN AWAY AND WIN VIA COUNT-OUT! HAHAHAHAHAHA! FOOLS! ALL OF YOU!

*He laughs more as the camera fades out.*

[The Dunne Deal]

In a small coffee shop in a corner table, we find Travis Monroe sitting down. His hands around a cup of coffee. You can see the cup rapidly bouncing off the table. As Wellington Dunne places a hand on Monroe's shoulder. Monore jumps at the contact and looks at Dunne with disdain.

Dunne: "Are you okay?"

Monroe: "Excuse me?"

Monroe looks pissed at the question.

Dunne: "Are you okay?"

Monroe: "Does it look like I'm okay, Dunne? Does it?"

Dunne: "It looks like you've had one too many cups of coffee. You're jumpy as all hell."

Monroe: "Actually, this is my first cup. I'm just... I'm just that pissed off. That's all. And not talking run-of-the-mill normal pissed either. I'm Martin Brodeur not getting an interference call and breaking his stick pissed. I'm Floyd Mayweather getting sucker-punched pissed. I'm Justin Verlander throwing 101 miles per hour fastballs at your head pissed."

Dunne: "I have no idea who any of those people are, but I'm guessing the pissed off is something no one wants."

Monroe: "Exactly. Look I'm not trying to take my frustrations out on you, or the guys. But, I'm tired. I'm tired of constantly having to defend myself and the group. I'm tired of constantly being called a group of losers. I'm tired of pushing my body to breaking point only to fall short. And I'm sure you, Johnny, and Joe all feel the same way. All four of us have the talent, the ability, the drive to become some of the top workers in this business, and yet 85% of the time we fall short."

Dunne: "Well, wasn't the plan for after The Rumble for us to spend some time apart, some time to ourselves, and not worry about the group as a whole. I mean I've already signed with Destiny Wrestling, and Johnny says he's staying in AWF. That just leaves you and Joe to figure you where you want to go."

Monroe: "I want to go home. I want to back to my new place in San Jose. I want to get back into bed and curl up and die. I'm tired. I'm sore. I hurt in places I didn't know existed. But instead of doing that, I'm flying out to a barge in the middle of the ocean to get my ass handed to me. Only to then fly out to fucking Melbourne to get my ass handed to me again. So to answer your first question, Dunne. No, I'm not fucking OK."

Dunne: "Well, hell! Don't take it out on me then. We need to focus on..."

Monroe: "I know Masky Bois. The team of masked Mary Sues who are about as original as a Pink Floyd cover band. El Combatiente seems like a child getting a new puppy, so exciting. We to bad for him, his puppy has Parvo and need to be put down. And the Great Lord Dominicus, let us all bask in your foolishness, you arrogant prick. Bet you five bucks if I ripped that make off of him. He'd have a fucking neckbeard. I mean he seems like the type. Look to Masky Bois, and to the rest of the teams in the Anzac Cup. You have been warned. I'm not here to make friends. I'm here to win, and any cost. Whether or not you walk away. Well, that's up to you."

Dunne: "Masky Bois, come at us with that soft shit. And you're exit from the tournament. It will be a foregone conclusion. A Dunne Deal."

[Trent Jones MR Bones.]

***pre recorded footage continued from earlier***

Trent Jones is alone in the men’s bathroom with a piss filled condom still on. Trent is sweating through his shirt. He is freaking out as he tries to remove it. You would think it would just come off but Trent is having a hell of a time with this.

“How the fuck does this shit happen I am wearing protection to keep Mr. Bones safe from the Rona! You try to keep Covid out of your dick hole and this happens.”

The condom pops off and splashes against the wall. Piss sprays back on Trent Jones. Trent almost falls as he reacts to the piss on him. He kicks the trash can and almost falls once more. Trents face turns bright red. He was ready to punch a hole in the wall. Life for trent was dark, its dark days for Trent jones.

“What the fuck.”’

Trent slides out the door and out of the bar. He can smell his own piss and he drunk walks through the town. The locals look at the large man as he causes and kicks items as he walks. The SWAT champion is covered in his own piss and he is still better than the rest of the roster. Trent Ego is growing but his desire to hurt people keeps him focused on the task at hand. Trent passes a group of guys and they make a comment and Trent pulls back and the guys run off. He mutters something and stops, “Run you little cunts.” Trent Jones reaches the hotel he is staying at and heads inside.

*************
Hotel room
************

Trent is freshly showered. He has had time to shower and get the smell of piss off of himself. He looks in the mirror and grabs his razor. He puts shaving cream on his face and he removes some of the daily stubble that grows above his beard. Next he places shaving cream on his neck and shaves it off as well. Trent reaches for his hand towel and wipes down his face. Trent looks at the pill bottles but doesn’t take them.

Trent walks out into the main part of the room. He looks at the belt and then at his wrestling gear. He stops what he is doing and walks back in the bathroom he grabs the shaving cream and covers above his beard and shaves it. It’s the same area he just shaved minutes ago. Trent finishes the top of the beard shaving and goes into his neck line. This too is the same area he already shaved. Trent reaches for the hand towel.

“What the fuck why would they leave a towel Someone already shaved with.”

Trent throws it on the ground and he has no clue that he is acting out in some form of manic behavior and he isn’t even realizing he is doing the same thing multiple times. This time Trent looks at his pills he grabs them and takes a few of them. He walks out into the main part of the hotel room. He grabs a bottle of water and drinks from the bottle and swallows a few pills down.

Trent Jones grabs his gear and he stops and looks at it, “damn I need to shave first” Trent stops and looks at the belt. “Wait a fucking minute… I already shaved… I need to take my meds.” Trent was losing his shit for a moment. Hell he was getting ready to dress for a wrestling event that was still days away. Then a knock came to his door.

Trent's face lit up as he was picturing it being Molly on the other side of the door. Trent rushes to the door and he quickly opens it. It’s a female but it’s not molly. However this 20ish looking girl is really cute. She is holding a picture of Trent Jones. She also has a gold Paint marker and she asks him to sign her picture.

Trent invites her in and he signs the picture. She smiles big from ear to ear. “Do you really think the slump buster worked?”

Trent looks at her and he grabs the title belt, “look I got the belt don’t I?” Trent hands her the belt and she smiles once again a huge ass smile.

The girl hands it back to Trent and she goes for a hug. Trent gives her a side arm hug and turns out of it. She doesn’t seem happy and Trent shows her the door. Trent wants to hit it but he can’t even focus on pussy when all he wants is to fix things with molly.

*** live in the arena***

White trash renegade hits the speakers as the arena lights go dark. A red spot light shines down as Trent steps out of the entrance ramp area. Trent is wearing a black trench coat that has Mr Bones painted on both sides of his body. He is wearing a killin Bandana. He starts walking towards the ring. He gets halfway to the ring as he opens the trench coat. His SWAT title is shining as the red spot light turns gold. He is sporting an Eddie D shirt. He walks in the ring and calls for a microphone.

Trent smiles one of those creepy smiles, “ladies and gentleman it’s me… Trent fucking Jones…. Mr Bones…. The most talked about person in the world. Last Swat show #mrbones was trending. But I was able to get the transcript and my name was said more times than anyone. And we all know why it’s because I am the champion of this mother fucker.”

Trent removes his trench coat and sets it on the ropes. He walks around the ring in black pants a Eddie D shirt and his title still on. He points to the killin it bandana. “The brand new Killin it Bandana is available at all the merch stands. Also check out this brand new Eddie D shirt… this shit comes in man sizes… sorry Tuxedo Mask we didn’t print them in little bitch size. You see so many people were talking backstage that Trent Jones and Eddie D, the two largest men in the sport today couldn’t make it as a team.” Trent smiles yet again. “You see Eddie D and I realized we could destroy each other or we could destroy this place. Now my version and his are a little different from what we mean when we say destroy. Eddie D wants to win and I want to murder this roster.”

Trent takes the belt off and sits it on his large shoulder, “you see at the end of the day Trent Jones and Eddie d are going to win this fucking cup… you see that’s what we do. You see I have beat all the legends in this place. I ended the Russian what’s his name Oliver Klothesoff or whatever it was. brothers of anarchy beat 110% used up or when Jonnie and his lap dog call their team name.”

Trent Jones smiles, “tonight you will get to see Eddie D and Trent Jones deliver mass destruction match after match. I will personally gift you all with my appearance between every match. You see I already know we will win the cup so I am prepared for this. I am the champion and Brothers In Anarchy are the new force here in SWAT!”

A fan holds up what looks to be a condom full of piss and the person next to him holds up Mayo. “Look, the piss condom was a mistake… Let the world know that you need to take off your covid dick protection before you go piss. I guess its no secret I have a few mental issues but you the fans get the benefit because when my dark side comes out I am even more dangerous in the ring. Tonight that Mayo jar you hold may be the weapon I use after this first round bye… you see this is no match. Tuxedo Mask is a bitch and so is his partner. But after we get the easy victory I am going to bash Tuxedo fucking head in with that jar.”

Trent Jones drops the microphone and grabs his jacket and heads to the back as White Trash Renegade plays throughout the arena once.

[SWAT Team]

Jeremy Tucker : And we are back folks, with our first match of the night, KGB vs KGB.

Andrew Fulton : This is an outrage, I still can’t believe they are all facing each other .

Jeremy Tucker : The Founder actually said he was glad they were, and wants to lay down the law.

Andrew Fulton : Then look out the rest of the KGB.

[Peel Their Caps Back - Ice T blares thru the arena and the Bandit Mobil makes its way down thru the ramp way. Soutter, James Fierce and Bruno standing in the back. It drives down to ringside and they make their way into the ring.]

Frank Salazar : Introducing now, hailing from Melbourne, Australia. Coming in at 6’3 and 364 pounds .... representing the KGB .... The Founder ... MAD DOG PAUL SOUTTER!!! And his tag team partner, hailing from some Holler in WV, coming in at 6’1 and 255 pounds ... The Ferocious One .... JAMES FIERCE!!!!

Jeremy Tucker : What a team. The two original Bandits, riding again. They are my tip to go all the way tonight in this one.

Andrew Fulton : I’m on Timeless and Roxylishus, he IS on a role and did you hear what Roxy said about being the toughest person in the whole fed taking it from Timeless every night, that blew my mind.

Jeremy Tucker : It would, I’m sue not all it blew.

[Peel Their Caps Back hits and Frostbite and Joanne Canelli walk out, side by side, the stop at the entrance ramp, the crowd boo’ing and jeering them. They soak it in and then head to the ring.]

Frank Salazar :Now introducing their opponents, also representing the KGB. Hailing from The Jersey Shore, New Jersey, coming in at 5’11 and 135 pounds ... The Jersey Devil Diva, The Godfather, Don Canelli ... JOANNE CANELLI!!!! And her partner ... hailing from Boulder, Colorado. Coming in at 6’2 and 225 pounds ... The Cold Hearted Bastard .... FROSTBITE!!!

Andrew Fulton : This is just weird.

Jeremy Tucker : Soutter and Frostbite to start this one off, last year they had a bitter rivalry, winning “Feud of the Year” and then Frostbite shocked the world at New Years Nightmare and joined the Bandits. Now they once again face each other.

Andrew Fulton : Referee Vick Mackey calls for the bell and we are under way. Soutter offers a handshake to Frostbite, and Frostbite hesitates, then shakes, but after he does, Soutter refuses to let go. Frostbite snarls at him, and swings with a big left, but Suit ducks it and hooks Frosty around the waist and sends him sailing with a German release suplex.

Jeremy Tucker : Suit grabs Frosty and locks on a side headlock and tags in Fierce. Fierce enters the ring and boots Frosty hard in the stomach while he is still in the headlock. Fierce and Soutter then double Irish whip Frosty into the ropes and send him crashing to the match with a double shoulder block.

Andrew Fulton :Fierce locks on a Hammerlock on Frostbite. Frostbite reverses it and dropkicks the back of Fierce into his corner. Joanne claws at his face and Frostbite runs into the corner with a jumping double knee to the back, then tags in Joanne.

Jeremy Tucker : Joanne snap mares James over and then stomps on him. James hooks her leg and takes her down, and then applies a leg scissors. James rolls while holding on the leg scissors and stretches out and tags in Suit.

Andrew Fulton : Soutter comes in, bounces of the ropes and drops a BIG leg on Joanne. Fierce releases the leg scissors and Suit covers Joanne.

Jeremy Tucker : One ............

Two ....... Joanne kicks out.

Andrew Fulton : Joanne with a chop to the throat of Suit.

Jeremy Tucker : Joanne with a snap DDT on Soutter. She tags in Frostbite and the both Irish Whip Soutter to the turnbuckle. Frostbite then whips Joanne right at Soutter but Suit gets the leg up and connects with a big boot. Frostbite runs at Soutter and flies for a Stinger Splash avalanche but Soutter moves out of the way. Soutter picks Joanne up on his shoulder, Frostbite slumped in the corner, and Soutter runs at the corner and running powerslam / avalanches Joanne right onto Frostbite.

Andrew Fulton : What a move! Both Joanne and Frosty are down, and Soutter raises his fist in the air feeling it and the crowd roar cheering him on. He sure is enjoying the support of the home town tonight.

Jeremy Tucker : Look out! Here comes trouble. Timeless and Roxylishus make their way to ringside.

Andrew Fulton : About time, he has been calling Suit soft ever since he turned his back on our former owner Joe Pesci, and the way he is pandering to the crowd tonight, looks like he is onto something.

Jeremy Tucker : Roxylishus jumps on the apron and calls referee Vick Mackey over. He approaches her and is enraptured.

Andrew Fulton : The man has zero will power to avoid her charms, this panty snatcher has not one put TWO pairs of her panties now from previous matches, i am sure he is no doubt wearing one of them right now.

Jeremy Tucker : As Roxylishus distracts Mackey Timeless enters the ring, and he and Soutter have a stare down. The stare down allows Frostbite ad Joanne to get back to their feet, and the three of them surround Soutter.

Andrew Fulton : Fierce calls for a chair from Bruno and catches it entering the ring and he is now standing side by side with Suit.

CRACK!!!!

Jeremy Tucker : OH MY GOD!!! JAMES FIERCE JUST NAILED HIS OWN PARTNER PAUL SOUTTER WITH THE STEEL CHAIR!!!

Andrew Fulton : Timeless picks up the big founder and drills him with a falcon arrow! This is great!

Jeremy Tucker : Great? It’s a travesty. Like déjà vu. Fierce has once again betrayed his former best friend.

Andrew Fulton : Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me.

Jeremy Tucker : Fierce grabs Soutter and tortures him with the Hillbilly Dirt Show!!! (Stump Puller!)

Andrew Fulton : Frostbite grabs Soutter ... Snowstorm!!!! ( a front brainbuster) This is a massacre!

Jeremy Tucker : Joanne now taking her turn. She has a set of brass knuckles on her right hand, winds up and “Kiss the Rings” knock out punch and Soutter is on the mat not moving.

Andrew Fulton : Not moving! No wonder! He just took FOUR finishers!

Jeremy Tucker : Joanne goes for a cover, and Roxylishus directs Mackey over there.

One .....................

Two ......................

THREE!!!!!!

Andrew Fulton : The KGB advance! Frostbite and Canelli victorious!

Jeremy Tucker : Roxylishus is under the ring, sticking her peach ass in the air, and the fans behind her are in heaven, she drags some more steel chairs out and starts throwing them into the ring. Where does this leave the KGB?

Andrew Fulton : With Soutter OUT! We are seeing a NEW KGB here Jerry. They have had enough of him growing soft and hogging the limelight, and are putting him down like the sick old dog he is.

Jeremy Tucker : This is disgusting! Chair shot to Soutter by Canelli! Timeless and Fierce wallop him. Frostbite now with a big chair shot! Again and again and again they all four crash the chairs into him, and Soutter is now bleeding a pool of blood around his head forming, he isn’t moving. There is blood coming out of his ear!

Andrew Fulton : More and more and more chair shots. Bruno jumps in the ring and dives on top of Soutter, trying to take the blows to protect him. The Bandits crash into him also with the chairs, but only to get him out of the way then continue their barrage on Soutter.

Jeremy Tucker : This is enough! He has had enough! Here comes the road agents and EMT’s and Security. They rush the ring and The Bandits chase them off threatening them with the Chairs also. They then stand over the broken carcass of The Founder.

Frank Salazar :WINNERS OF THE MATCH .... JOANNE CANELLLI AND FROSTBITE!!! THE KROSS GLOBAL BANDITS!!!

Andrew Fulton : This is crazy! Wow is all i can say Jerry.

[The new KGB theme and entrance video hits the SWAT Tron and the thugs make their way to the back patting each other on the back and thrilled with their ‘execution’ of the Big Bad Bustling Former Bandit.]

[Jonnie Valentine]

("My Heart Beats With People" by Jonnie Valentine plays and the Rod Laver Arena leaps to their feet! 110% Syberus and "Devlishly Handsome" Jonnie Valentine jog out wearing matching Stylistics satin ring jackets. 110% Syberus has a Union Jack bow-tie and Jonnie Valentine has an American bow-tie, and they carry matching flags)


Jeremy Tucker: At last it's The Stylistics! 


Andrew Fulton: And they've gone all flag-wavy!  


(The Stylistics run down the aisle, slapping the Melbourne fans hands until they get to the ring. They roll the flags under the ropes, then climb on to the apron. 110% Syberus and Jonnie Valentine pull on the ropes, and vault into the ring, causing The Rod Laver Arena to pop loudly! They both step on opposite second turnbuckles and wave their respective flags. They then take the house microphone from Frank Salazar)


"Devlishly Handsome" Jonnie Valentine: Ow! Let me hear you, Melbourne!! 


(Jonnie points the microphone at the crowd, and gets a good pop. Jonnie seems unsatisified with it so he hands the house mic to Syberus. Syberus shakes his head, but Jonnie urges him on)


110% Syberus: (ahem) Come on, Melbourne. You can do a little better than that, I suppose? Let me hear you!


(110% Syberus hesitantly points the mic towards the mic and gets a much louder pop)


Jonnie Valentine: Come on, Australia! I said, if you want to see The Stylistics take home The Anzac Cup, I said let me hear you!!! 


(The Rod Laver Arena lets out an ear splitting pop, enough to satisfy The Stylistics)


Jonnie Valentine: That's more like it! Now, as you know The Stylistics isn't just about style and being too sexay! ...


(Jonnie is interrupted by hoots and hollers from various drunk middle aged ladies. Jonnie gets bug eyed and looks from side to side, egging the women on. Finally he can't take it any more and does a sexy Fargo strut across the ring, popping the crowd. 110% Syberus stops him)


110% Syberus: It's too sexy, mate. Too sexy. 


Jonnie Valentine: Sorry, you're right. Like I was saying The Stylistics aren't just about style. We're also focused on commemorating the glorious job our two nations did during that fateful war that took so many young lives. 


110% Syberus: That's right, Jonnie. I think we all know the war that we are talking about. It was a conflict that nearly ended civilization as we know it. It took the resolve of both America and the United Kingdom to peel back the scourge of tyranny. 


Jonnie Valentine: We're referring of course to the French and Indian War. We owe so much to so many, as we would both probably be speaking Algonquin if it were not for the brave warriors in the US and English army. 


110% Syberus: And now we would like a moment of silence, while we honor those brave men with a ten bell salute. 


[The Rod Laver Arena quiets and The Stylistics stand solemnly with their US and UK flags in the center of the ring]


110% Syberus: General Edward Braddock.

(bell rings)

Jonnie Valentine: Major Hendrick Theyanoguin.

(bell rings)  

110% Syberus:Chief Tanaghrisson

(bell rings)

Jonnie Valentine: Admiral Edward Boscawen

(bell rings) 

110% Syberus: Colonel Ephraim Williams

(bell rings)    

Jonnie Valentine: Colonel William Trent.

(bell rings)    

110% Syberus: (fights back tears) Admiral Thaddeus Cornmant

(bell rings)

Jonnie Valentine: (pats Jonnie's shoulder) Colonel James Mockton.

(bell rings) 

110% Syberus: High Chief Hendrick.

(bell rings)

Jonnie Valentine: Colonel François-Marie Le Marchand de Lignery. 

(bell rings)

110% Syberus: I believe that last one is a Frenchman. 


Jonnie Valentine: Oh. 


110% Syberus: England and America once made the world safe in 1760, and we can do it again! 


(Melbourne fans cheer wildly)


Jonnie Valentine: Tarrasque is the most violent thing that has ever happened to wrestling, and Ultra Kira is an alien... 


110% Syberus: Are you pulling me leg? 


Jonnie Valentine: I wish I was. He weights 400,000 pounds... 


110% Syberus: Fuck me! 


Jonnie Valentine: Hang on. That's in space. On earth he only weighs 200 pounds.  


110% Syberus: Oh. You had me worried there for a bit. 


Jonnie Valentine: Yeah, he's fun sized down here. Plus Doomsday and Lucifer already killed him backstage.   


110% Syberus: Oh, lovely. I always did like those two. Fine chaps. 


Jonnie Valentine: I know, and before I was like "Those two apes?" but I see it now. You're so good at reading people.   


110% Syberus: Stop. 


Jonnie Valentine: No, I'm serious. You said Frostbite was a sleazy incel and I didn't listen.  


110% Syberus: It's just a feeling I had. 


Jonnie Valentine: You told me Eddie D wasn't going to handle Rally shitting in his bag well, and you were right.   


110% Syberus: It's a gift. 


Jonnie Valentine: But then, you said "I wouldn't be the least bit surprised if Trent Jones hit the love of his life in the head with a jar of mayonnaise." And we almost had you checked.   


110% Syberus: I remembered you jammed a chair under the door handle of my bathroom. 


Jonnie Valentine: Well, we couldn't take any chances of you being a witch.   


110% Syberus: Understood. 


Jonnie Valentine: So get in line KGB, Team Fairtex, La Famigila, Tarrasque and...whatever is left of your partner. The Stylistics are here to win The Anzac Cup!


("My Heart Beats With People" by Jonnie Valentine plays, and The Stylistics vault over the ropes to the floor, and slap hands with all the Melbourne fans. They come over and tussle Jeremy Tucker's hair) 


Jeremy Tucker: (overjoyed) What? What is happening?? That was zany! Those guys are a couple of nuts, ya know. Oh my god, that was....that was too much.


(The Stylistics stand at the top of the stage and wave the American and UK flags as they bathe in the roar of the crowd) 


Andrew Fulton: For fuck sakes, fix your hair, Jeremy it's... 


Jeremy Tucker: DON'T TOUCH IT!!!

[vastrix]

A limousine pulls up to the arena. The driver gets out, walking to the back of the vehicle to open the door. Out comes Marcus Anderson and Tarrasque.

Tarrasque has a bucket of chicken wings in one hand and a half eaten wing in the other. He has buffalo sauce smeared across his face as he messily devours the wing in hand and throws the bone back into the bucket.

Yeah, he always seems to have a bucket of something to eat. Doesn’t he?

Reporters swarm Marcus and Tarrasque, everyone asking questions at once. Marcus shakes his head and yells for everyone to stop.

Anderson: Yes, Tarrasque is ready for this match to come. Yes, I understand that Tarrasque is very interested in a meeting with Mistress Discipline’s friend, Chaos, and wants to wrestle her in pudding. Yes, I know that we have a dead end partner in the form of Ultra Kira. Yes, I know we were given the role of sacrificial lambs by putting us against Jonnie Valentine and Syberus right off the bat. We are going to make certain that Ultra Kira will be the one taking the fall in this match.

Marcus and Tarrasque head into the arena through the waiting throng of reporters, having at least answered some of their questions. They are on their way to their dressing room when they are stopped by former Hardkore World jobber, Kerry Davis.

Anderson: The heck are you doing here? Aren’t you older than Tarrasque? You should be retired.

Davis: You want me to take Tarrasque’s place in this match? He’s going to lose when he tags with Ultra Kira, who has become a bigger joke around here than me when I was wrestling in Hardkore World.

Anderson: I understand that we might be facing a loss in the first round and I appreciate your enthusiasm, but I don’t think you need to take his place in the upcoming match.

Marcus and Tarrasque attempt to get by Kerry but he slides right back into Marcus’ path.

Anderson: What?

Davis: I don’t think you understand. I’ve waited for years to get my hands on Jonnie Valentine for the way that he treated me in Hardkore World.

Anderson: Like you were some jobber?

Davis: Yeah, like I was some. Well, I mean I kind of was the resident jobber. I still should have been treated like a human being! Maybe thrown a bone or something. I could have defeated Shootfighter or Dragon Belt or someone if I tried.

Anderson: And when you faced these people in the ring, did you try to win?

Kerry rubs the back of his neck while looking at the ground in a sort of shamed way.

Davis: Well, yeah.

Anderson: And did you win?

Davis: Well, no. You know, you don’t have to be an asshole about this. I just want to get in a few good moves on my former boss. Tarrasque, you can understand that. You got that chance. Why can’t I?

Tarrasque drops another bone back in the bucket and shrugs.

Tarrasque: What hurt? Him can take me place in match. Him weak, Ultra Kira weak. Good team.

Marcus looks from Tarrasque to Kerry Davis, looking like his frustration is growing.

Anderson: What does it hurt? It would hurt your reputation if you ran from a fight. That you would let this poor sucker take your place in a match that you were obviously going to lose because we chose the wrong tag team partner. We’d be the laughing stock of SWAT just like Ultra Kira! Just like Kerry Davis was in Hardkore World!

Tarrasque: We stay in SWAT?

Anderson: Well, no.

Tarrasque: Then what matter what they think? Kerry want fight Jonnie. Let him.

Anderson: Fine. Fine. Fine. When Zoran comes down on us, because we’re pulling a bait and switch. I don’t want to fucking hear about it.

Marcus gets out his cell phone and texts the limo driver to come pick them up. Kerry looks hopeful, like a kid about to be told that “Yes, he can go to Disney World”.

Anderson: You can take Tarrasque’s place in the tag team match.

Davis: Yes!

Anderson: I’m going to call Zoran and tell him.

Davis: Yay!

Marcus shakes his head searching through his contact list until he finds Zoran Sainovic. He presses the button to call.

Anderson: Hey. I hate to tell you this, but I think that Tarrasque has the Corona. Yeah, he’s going to be in quarantine. Listen. Kerry Davis is going to take Tarrasque’s place in the match. Yep. Yeah, I know he’s going to get squished, but how well could he do with Ultra Kira as a tag team partner? Right? Thank you for understanding.

Marcus hangs up the phone and looks at Kerry Davis.

Anderson: Well, good luck. We’re going to get out of here before we’re seen and have to stay.

Davis: Thanks!

Kerry Davis runs down the hallway, nearly tripping over his own feet in the process. Marcus just shakes his head.

Anderson: He’s going to get squished.

Tarrasque: Me know.

[King Syberus]

[ Explosion special effects fill the screen for several seconds. They continue for what seems like forever. ]



[ Explosions continue, followed by several strikes of thunder and lightning. In front of this backdrop steps 110% Syberus and “Devilishly Handsome” Jonnie Valentine, the Stylistics. They're wearing outrageous furs, crowns and medallions, bedecked in jewels and several stage hands spray fine perfumes and toss rose petals around them. They still of course have their respective Union Jack and Stars and Stripes bow ties. Syberus has the SWAT International title around his waist. ]



110% Syberus: Oh yes. It's time for the Anzac Cup. And finally the greatest tag team to ever exist has the chance to show the watching world what wrestling excellence looks like, first hand.



[ Jonnie Valentine throws an object at the floor which explodes into smoke. ]



“Devilishly Handsome” Jonnie Valentine: BOOM!



110% Syberus: *waving away the smoke and coughing* I'm 110% Syberus!! He's Jonnie Valentine!! Do you understand the level on which we exist in professional wrestling?



[ The background effects change to stars and galaxies, the stage hands start pretending to be swimming through them for some reason. Jonnie points a sceptre at the camera. ]



Jonnie Valentine: Tell them!



110% Syberus: Did you hear the crowd out there? They're pumped here tonight in Melbourne. Pumped to see first hand a couple of legends take home the Anzac cup. You know what I'm looking forward to?



Jonnie Valentine: What's that, friend?



110% Syberus: I'm looking forward to slapping Eddie D right in his stupid mouth!



Jonnie Valentine: Yeah!



110% Syberus: I'm looking forward to throwing Anthony Caffery's lightweight arse over the top rope!



Jonnie Valentine: Wooo!



110% Syberus: I'm looking forward to smashing Trent Jones with some kind of backbreaker. Hahah yeah! Right in the back!



Jonnie Valentine: Oof, sounds painful.



110% Syberus: Oh it is, Jonathan. And when we're done tearing through this roster, and we get our hands on that finely produced trophy, we'll be filling it with the finest vintage this world has ever produced.



Jonnie Valentine: Or mountain dew.



[ One of the stage hands pulls a chord and a shower of glitter rains down on the Stylistics. Jonnie has to brush some of it out of his eyes. ]



110% Syberus: Death! Death to all of our enemies! We'll paint the canvas with the blood of the unworthy to the applause of a gleeful audience.



Jonnie Valentine: That's kinda strong.



110% Syberus: I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'm just so hyped. It's the Anzac Cup. The talent is flocking to Melbourne from all over the world. Running their asses right into our boots. We're the stylistics! One look at our rippling physiques will tell you everything you need to know.



Jonnie Valentine: We've got bodies that make Alex Turner's body look like Kilroy Evans and Paul Soutter had a baby together.



110% Syberus: Completely and total sexiness is our motto. At least it would be if we had a motto, which I'm not sure we do, and this wouldn't the the time nor the place to formalise one.



Jonnie Valentine: Besides, it's the kind of thing we'd have to run by Ronnie.



[ The stage hands spray more perfume. ]



110% Syberus: Honestly who's going to beat us in this thing? Who? Psychotic Goth? El Combatiente? Hahaha! Such an idea makes us laugh!



Jonnie Valentine: Hahahahah!



110% Syberus: Hahahaha!



[ They laugh for a while and someone hands Syberus a goblet of wine which he drinks deeply, some of it splashes down the front of his chest, it's almost erotic. ]



110% Syberus: The time is almost upon us! Can you feel it Melbourne? Can you feel it?!



[ We hear the crowd roar again in the background. ]



110% Syberus: We're the Society of the New Breed yes, and we bear the hallmark of greatness that brings. But tonight we're also the Stylistics. We do what the Society of the New Breed has done for many years – win matches excellently, but we do it with a slathering of sexiness that makes all the ladies' quake. And many blokes too. And that's fine by me.



Jonnie Valentine: There's nothing we can do to control it. It's beyond even our powers.



[ 110% Syberus starts visibly shaking. ]



110% Syberus: Oooooh can you feel it Melbourne?! The electricity in the air! The sexiness permeates through it like ancient dialect permeates Goth's every waking thought.



[ Jonnie starts trying to hold Syberus still but the power is too much, Jonnie's eye bulge with disbelief. ]



Jonnie Valentine: It's almost time! Hold on! Just a little longer!



110% Syberus: I can't! I feel the energy of the people. I'm feeding off it Jonnie!



Jonnie Valentine: Uh-oh... so am I!



[ Jonnie starts shaking too. Syberus grabs the camera in both hands and pulls it close. ]



110% Syberus: IT'S TIME MELBOURNE!! THE SULTANS OF SEXINESS! THE KINGS OF CLASS! THE MASTERS OF MACHISMO!!!!



WE'RE THE STYLISTICS!!



AND WE'RE COMING FOR THE ANZAC CUP!!!

[lunchboxlarry]

Back in Vegas

“So my Ma thinks you might be a gay drug addict trying to human traffic me to Australia.”

Ya know the sayings; sprinkling sugar on shit or putting lipstick on a pig? Larry clearly doesn’t.

Freeze the frame. The look on Kirby Jackson’s face is too good. One eyebrow trying to touch his hairline, the other sitting lower than the energy levels of a Bloody Zen Romance promotion. His eyes stare menacingly into Larry’s. With the lowbrow side of his nose scrunched up, the total effect is a strong what-the-fuck type expression.

While we’re here, let’s take in the whole scene.

The two sit at a small table inside Violette’s Vegan Cafe & Organic Juice Bar. The place is trying to close down for the night, but staff reassured K-JAX and Lunchbox that there was no need to hurry through their meal. That last accusation definitely caught the attention of their waitress; now wondering if that was a smart decision.

Larry, still frozen in time, sits motionless in his black sweats with the orange double L logo. If this place was packed with its usual clientele, he’d stick out like a sore thumb. Kirby’s thankful that’s not the case tonight as he prefers to be the guy in a room that people gawk at awkwardly.

Don’t believe me? Just take a look at his own get-up. He’s stitched up in an iridescent turquoise to purple cheetah-print button-down tucked into black, skinny jeans accompanied by a pair of bedazzled leather cowboy boots. The kicks sport just enough fringe to make the ladies jealous and then fellas slightly uncomfortable; for reasons they’re even less comfortable explaining.

ACTION!

Kirby maintains his disgusted with a side of bewildered staredown against a clearly confused Larry. Apparently the big oaf didn’t think that message would be offensive in any way. K-JAX takes the bite of tofurkey off his fork with attitude, chews it in slow motion, and swallows as if it had spikes.

“And what’s your dad think, Larry?” The question’s laced with sarcasm, but you know it’s serious when Kirby doesn’t call him Lar.

Larry awkwardly grabs at the back of his neck.

“He’s not really talkin-”

Jackson cuts him off with a raised, open hand.

“The question was rhetorical.” Knowing that wasn’t going to mean a thing to the brain behind the blue eyes staring back at him, K-JAX pontificated. “Not looking for an answer, ‘kay?”

Larry smiles and nods as if he weren’t just insulted. It pisses Kirby off even worse.

“Do I look like a druggie to you, Larry?” He snaps. “Do I look like someone who runs a sex ring?”

Larry pauses for a moment to think carefully before answering. It was something his dad taught him early on: Think before you speak.

More people should heed that advice.

Unfortunately for this pair, and Larry’s strong gut feeling that this was a trick question, the wait was a little too long for K-JAX. He places his fork down next to his almost empty plate and brings a napkin up to wipe his mouth. All the while, his eyes stay locked on Larry. Dude doesn’t even blink.

“You know what the key to a successful tag team is, Larry?”

Oh no, more questions. Larry’s face begins to turn shades of red, coinciding with rising anxiety levels.

“Are all these questions gonna be reportable, Kirb?” Larry asked, trying to use the word rhetorical, with a sense of pride. In his mind, he just heard it for the first time minutes ago. That’s a quick turnaround for using it in a sentence.

K-JAX, unimpressed, pretends he didn’t hear the dumb leaking out of Larry’s mouth.

“Trust.”

Jackson straightens up in his seat.

“You do know what trust is, don’tcha Larry?”

These are not the questions Larry is good at handling. Shaking his head, he slowly opens his mouth hoping to find the words before long. But Kirby, again, saves him the trouble.

“It’s a firm belief in the reliability, truth, ability, or strength of someone or something. Can you get down with that, my guy?”

Thankfully even Larry’s figured out Kirby isn’t looking for answers anymore.

K-JAX leans an inch forward. His glare turning Larry’s face full on lobster red now.

“So, now I’ll ask a question and I want you to actually answer this one. ‘Kay?” A deep breath for suspense. “Do you believe in me, Larry?”

Larry’s eyes bulge as his chin tries to retract into his neck.

His eyes dart from left to right as if they were searching for the truth inside.

Seconds pass like minutes.

His mouth opens.

The scene cuts because I’m a bigger dicktease than Bloody Zen Romance could ever dream of becoming.

~~~

Down Under

(We find ourselves staring at the scribbled out Simply Speechless nametag on the locker room door of SWAT’s newest tag team. Larry wanted to keep it on the door so he wouldn’t forget.)

(Someone’s tee-heeing so hard we can hear it from out here. Squeezing through the cracks, we see it’s Kirby Jackson. Dude’s keeled over, nearly in tears.)

K-JAX:
Ohhhh, man. That’s gold! One more time and that’s it. Promise!

(Larry, standing arms crossed and straight faced, rolls his eyes. Kirby, failing to pull himself together, continues to giggle away while pointing a remote at their small TV and rewinding the tape.)

(He watches intently, with a goofy smile on his face, reciting the words as they’re spoken on the screen.)

K-JAX: (mockingly)
It almost sounds cliché to say someone seems too nice to be part of the wrestling industry, but Larry really does seem too nice for this business.

(He literally falls off his chair laughing hysterically. Larry turns a shade of red you can’t even begin to describe.)

(Holding his midsection, Kirby points up to Larry.)

K-JAX:
The ladies think you’re a pussy!

Lunchbox:
Did you even hear the smack they talked about you?

(Kirby straightens up quick like.)

K-JAX:
Larry, what do I look like to you? A sheep being led to slaughter? Or the totally badass shepherd?

(Even Larry’s learned not to even think of answering these Kirby questions by now.)

K-JAX:
Let me put this in a way you can comprehend, Lar. You ever play chess?

(Larry’s head shakes. Kirby’s not surprised.)

K-JAX:
Right. But you agree that chess is a game, and that people play it?

(Larry shrug-nods.)

K-JAX:
Well there are two types of players, Lar. There’s the reactionary type, and the type that’s always thinking three to five steps ahead. See, the best way to play a reactionary type, is to distract them with the small shit. Keep them reacting. Then, when you’ve got them right where you want them…

(Larry’s waiting, not realizing Kirby figured he’d pick up what he put down.)

K-JAX:
Checkmate.

(Still nothing.)

K-JAX:
You win. For fuck’s sake.

(Larry nods that kinda nod when you realize you got wooshed, or bloody zenned as we like to call it.)

Lunchbox:
So we are the ones who plan ahead, right?

(Kirby facepalms.)

K-JAX:
Yes, Lar. But it’s more than that.

(Kirby inhales deep. He knows this next leap in logic is going to be tough.)

K-JAX:
So try to picture a cube, right? Each side of that cube is a chess board. Got it?

(Larry nods, despite looking like he’s trying to push out a gigantic turd.)

K-JAX:
Well that’s like 3D chess. I play 4D chess.

(Larry’s head is seconds from exploding.)

K-JAX:
And these dumb fucks are playing checkers.

(The pain on his face vanishes, replaced with lit up eyes and a wide smile.)

Lunchbox:
I LOOOOOVE CHECKERS! I’m really goo-

(Kirby’s open palm shoots toward Larry’s face once again. He sneers up at his taller tag partner.)

K-JAX:
You don’t get it, do you?

(Larry’s face twists. He starts to open his mouth, then shuts it. He smirks while nodding and pointing at Jackson.)

Lunchbox:
Almost got me there, Kirbs.

(Kirby actually spits he’s so frustrated by Larry’s naivety.)

K-JAX:
Let me lob this one so you can catch it, Boxman.

(Larry grins at the nickname. Kirby no sells.)

K-JAX:
When you call someone a “good guy”... it’s like...

(Kirby’s eyes wander, searching for the right way to get this message across,)

(Lightbulb.)

K-JAX:
So before your Aunt Seamus met your Uncle William. Well, it’s probably safe to assume he had a boyfriend or two, right?

(Larry nods.)

K-JAX:
Well, odds are… just like with everyone, ‘cept myself, he got broken up with at some point.

(Larry snarls.)

Lunchbox:
KEN.

(Kirby smiles. He wasn’t expecting help.)

K-JAX:
Fuckin’ Ken. Well, Lar, I can pretty much guarantee you that KEN told Aunt Seamus all about how good of a guy he was. How nice he was. Blah blah blah. And honestly, that’s only if it was a good breakup. Who knows what he said if things got ugly.

(Larry’s temperature starts to rise.)

K-JAX:
Ken made Aunt Seamus cry, didn’t he?

(Larry bites his lip. His nose twitches.)

K-JAX:
That’s what these guys are doing.

(Another twitch.)

K-JAX:
To you.

(You can almost hear Larry’s teeth grind.)

(He points down at Jackson.)

Lunchbox:
Fuck the Knuckle Sammies. These KENs are dead!

(Cut.)

[anthonycaffrey]

“So you’re telling me after this is over I’ve gotta fly over to Australia like immediately? Australia? Do you know how many hours of a time difference that is from where I’m standing right now?”

We can hear Anthony Caffrey talking to his agent, but not the other end of the conversation. He is standing on the XHF’s barge, staring out at the bright blue sky in the middle of international waters, clearly thousands of miles away from ANZAC Cup’s filming location. He looks distressed as he rubs his hand through his eyes, fogetting to not touch his face, knowing that he still won’t be able to go back home to Philadelphia even after tonight’s event.

Caffrey looks out over the horizon, or at least he tries to do so. Instead, he finds himself staring at the few yachts that are in his line of sight, including former AWF Prestige Champion Chris Card’s vessel, and the yacht belonging to the X-Crown champion and acting SWAT commissioner, Zoran Sainovic. Wondering if that rich asshole Chirs Card can see him from his yacht, Caffrey delivers a crotch chop of disdain in that direction as he continues speaking on the phone, ignoring Zoran’s vessel for now.

“Alright, so I sleep here, get a helicopter in the morning back to land…”

The logistics have Caffrey about to pull his hair out. He stops in his tracks as an unusual suggestion comes back to him.

“Skip the ANZAC Cup? Are you mad? No! Absolutely not. People are expecting me. I don’t care if I have three hours of lseep in me and am gonna be jetlagged to hell. This is one of SWAT’s premier events. There’s the Rumble, which I firmly believe is the crown jewel of the XHF calendar, and the ANZAC Cup is one of the biggest events SWAT has to offer. Even that kid Bloodied Fox stopped calling me a coward for five minutes to go sign up with his boyfriend. Granted, I don’t know if… some of the members of our company can take his lifestyle… but well, if there’s one thing I do know about those boys, they’ll kick the shit out of anyone who looks at them funny.”

Caffrey laughs, knowing that most of SWAT has no idea what they’re in for with Bloodied Fox.

“I know! Fiercely, fiercely talented. If I were him I’d split off of Ryan and Seth too. Between you and me, I think he’s testing it with Brendan. Fox and Young are on board tonight because they’ve got double duty in the Rumble. Luckily it’s just that on-- oh shit, if Hayden and I beat the ladies of SKY Force… that tournament is all one night, isn’t it? Oh fuck.”

Caffrey shakes his head, knowing that he has two monumental tasks in front of him, and not enough time in the day to dedicate to them both.

“Do we even know which members of SKY Force Callahan and I are facing?”

He raises his voice in frustration.

“No, I haven’t even seen Callahan! I don’t know where the fuck that guy is. I did hear he’s on board somewhere. No, he still hasn’t apologized to me about what he said. I fully realize this is going to be our first tag team match ever and if we get through this, we have Matei and the goddamn’s women’s tournament winner La Fey lining up to get their hands on us in the next round. Or was that Canelli? I don’t know, man. I’ve been watching so much tape lately that my mind is starting to melt together. Both of those women are more dangerous than 90% of the men I’ve fought, and both of them look like they’re gonna be in our way if we’re going to make it through to the final. What members of SKY Force are we fighting?”

Most notably, Caffrey has, for the first time in his SWAT career, actually pronounced Radu Matei’s last name correctly, showing some respect for his potential future competitor. He looks down the way to find one of the XHF technicians with a death grip on the guard rail overlooking the ocean. He watches the young man and can see that he looks a little sickly, and the stumbling he’s doing indicates that the man clearly doesn’t have his sea legs. Caffrey is told the answer to his question, but he completely misses it as his focus is taken up by the man.

“Hey Marcus, I know it’s been a real bitch trying to get cell service out here, but I’ll have to call you back. Send me an email or something, this guy doesn’t look too good.”

We can hear the displeasure from his agent as Caffrey hangs up his Pixel. He slides the phone back into the pocket of his dark blue jeans as he walks closer to the man. Everything is quiet… and then the main starts to throw up over the side of the barge. The camera luckily does not capture the spew leaving his mouth but the sounds are most unpleasant. Caffrey walks up and holds the technician’s long and curly brown hair back, keeping him from getting chunks of vomit in his hair.

“It’s okay, man. Let it all out. I know it sucks, it’s a natural thing. I’ve got your back here.”

The technician doesn’t even have the time to nod as the contents of his lunch escape him. It is a series of continued discomforting sounds as the technician finally finishes throwing up. He takes a deep breath as he’s finally able to do something besides expel his latest meal.

“First time at sea?”

The technician nods. You can see that his eyes are watering from the intensity of his sickness.

“It’s a normal thing. It’s why I’ve been here for a week. I’ve wrestled all over the world, and that includes on boats and barges like this. It’s the little things that people miss. They get their eyes too focused on the bigger picture and they forget the first steps can be the hardest. You’re going to need a few of these, kid. Luckily I have a few extras on me.”

Caffrey reaches into his pocket and pulls out a few seasickness patches designed to counteract the man’s symptoms. He hands them over as he keeps talking.

“It’s not a miracle cure, but it should help. Just stick it on your arm. Your inner ear is confusing your brain right now. Your eyes see everything as stable and normal, but the rest of your body knows you’re in constant motion. That’s why you’re throwing up the sandwiches from earlier. It’s okay. You are not the first guy I’ve seen out here doing this, and you certainly won’t be the last. I’ve been in your shoes many times. Also here, drink this. Staying hydrated helps. Sorry I drank some of this but I’m gonna guess you’re not wanting to make the trek back to catering. I promise I don’t have cooties or this fucking virus, I’ve been locked away in a fucking hotel for weeks.”

Caffrey pulls a bottle of water out of his back pocket. The man gives him a soft questioning look before deciding to just drink the bottle of water.

“Thank you.”

“Now when you see someone else losing their lunch, you gotta share some of those patches. I think you can get some more from medical if you ask real nice. You should probably see them for some meds to help you feel better -- I know a lotta shit, but I don’t know everything.”

The technician nods and continues to drink his water as Caffrey gives him a small wave. Caffrey walks back to where he was standing earlier, directly staring at the two large yachts. He points at them both.

“These two fuckers, Zoran and Card. I don’t know which is worse. Zoran… who we all know doesn’t really care about anyone other than himself, or Card, who says he cares but doesn’t do anything to help anyone that doesn’t immediately benefit him. I’ve raised money now for two different organizations and I don’t think that fucker has even opened up his checkbook.”

Caffey shakes his head.

“One step at a time, though. Tonight, I might be able to get my hands on Card… and as for Zoran…”

The thought trails off.

“We’ll see. But let’s try to look one more step ahead, one step ahead to the ladies of SKY Force, who I also know are all on this ship. Weird -- it seems that everyone who’s anyone -- Callahan, Zoran, Timeless, myself, the ladies of SKY Force, the men of LGBTKO, hell even Tarrasque and Lord Dominicus are on this barge right now, knowing that they’re in for an absolute war right now. And where are the men who call me out like Frostbite, or the giant jerk-offs like Syberus and Valentine, or our world champion and Eddie D who proclaim that they’re better than everyone else? When push comes to shove, where are they right now?”

Caffrey throws his hands up to the camera.

“Not here, that’s for sure. I’m not sure if they skipped the logistics nightmare or if they just knew they couldn’t cut it, but I think it’s a lot more of option B than option A. And it’s true… only one of us wins tonight. All of this work, all of this time I’ve put in scouting, the hours and days of time I’ve spent away from my family… tonight it could all mean fucking nothing. But at least I think that I can get the job done… and at least I know there are some things bigger than my immediate surrounding being.”

Caffrey waves his finger around him to prove his point.

“So tonight, tonight we Rumble… and then when I get on that helicopter, when I get on that plane, my brain’s going to turn to SKY Force. Hopefully by then I’ll actually know who the fuck I’m fighting! Just because they’re one faction doesn’t mean they all aren’t three very talented wrestlers in their own right. I think most of them are former champions. You’ve got Yamamoto the technician, Rin Kubo the powerhouse, Nausicaa the leader… or for God’s sakes even that little stuffed doll that they all love so much. I’ve said many times before that I’ve wrestled with a mop and that it was absolutely useless, but I think that mop would kick Charles’ ass in a fight. But not knowing which of the three Callahan and I are fighting? That puts us at a hell of a disadvantage, and I sincerely doubt Zoran’s going to send me a text or an email or any kind of notification to tell me which J-ROK warrior is coming to make a statement by kicking my ass.”

Caffrey shakes his head.

“But that’s not the now. Tonight… tonight I got my eyes focused on something a little bit bigger. It’s a glaring challenge for me, something I’ve been trying to get my hands on for over a year. Everyone else seems to get shot after shot… this is only my second. Everything I’ve been working for, everything I’ve sacrificed… tonight’s the night.”

The camera pans back, revealing the back of Caffrey as he stares directly at Zoran’s yacht.

“Let’s fucking go.”

The camera cuts.