Diamond in the Rough [EOD X*Crown #3]
Oct 18, 2020 2:20:59 GMT -5
Mongo the Destroyer and mosler like this
Post by Dylan on Oct 18, 2020 2:20:59 GMT -5
12-09-20
U.S.A.
Casino
We open on a man standing outside a grand entrance with multiple doors. He wears a dark red polo and black dress pants. On his hip is a holster, and the grip of the gun sticking out. He stands in front of the doors, guarding something perhaps? He gets distracted as a car far off in the distance is speeding down a winding driveway... speeding all the way for him! It flies around a hairpin bend, similar to a recent CAR race and slams the brakes as it comes to a stop right next to the man.
The door to the silver Ferrari 360 Modena opens, and two dress shoes step out of the card, followed by the pants of a matching suit. The camera pans up and around to the backside of the person, who closes the door behind him and walks past the armed man, nodding to him. He tosses the keys to a valet, speaking out as he does it.
Unknown: Keep 'er safe, mate. I won't be here terribly long.
And with that, he pushes his way through two sets of doors and walks into a lavish casino. Fresh off of construction, the new casino is scattered with people. Our protagonist adjusts one part of his mask to cover his face, and pulls a backpack over his shoulder as he makes his way through the entry area.
Desk Manager: Welcome to the Lounge, sir? Can I offer you anything?
He turns back to the desk manager, shaking his head.
Dylan: No, sir. I think I know exactly what I'm looking for and where it is.
And with that, Dylan walks away. He takes a moment to stand in awe, gawking at the whole shebang. It's beautiful really, in ways words just couldn't describe. But a sign catches his eye. One that happens to be the X on the map he's looking for.
"VIP LOUNGE"
Dylan: Bingo.
He walks right over to the VIP lounge, but a burly man roughly the size of Eddie D but bald all over guards the entryway. Panicking a moment, Dylan sees a lady behind a plexiglass window. The sign above her reads chips. He makes his way over, pulling out his wallet.
Dylan: Hey, uh. I'm looking for entry into the VIP area, there's a certain person back there I'm here to meet. How do I get back there?
She looks up from her computer, clasping her hands together.
Chips Lady: The VIP Lounge, eh? Home to some of the most elegant alcohols on tap, the fanciest slot machines on the planet, and the most experienced dealers to games like Poker, Blackjack, Craps and Roulette?
Dylan: Yep. That's the spot. How do I get back there?
She chuckles and shakes her head.
Chips Lady: Unfortunately, the cost to get back there is much too high for someone like you to afford. But, if you're so eager to get back there, you need to buy a 1-year VIP pass, which will run you around... $5000.
Dylan is quick to pull the money out of his pocket and hand it to her. She shrugs, fuck money and all, and hands him the pass to get into the VIP area. He walks down to the burly man from before, flashing the badge at him as he passes by. The VIP Lounge is even more extravagant than before. There's a table in the center of the room, with a small crowd of people around it. He makes his way towards the table, but a couple guys step in front of him, telling him he's not allowed into the area. A familiar face pokes around them and sees Dylan.
Jack Diamond: Well look who it is!
Jack spreads his hands out, making a grand gesture.
Jack Diamond: Welcome to the Diamond Lounge! To what do I owe the pleasure?
Dylan makes his way to the table, sitting at an empty chair.
Dylan: Deal me in.
The dealer at the table glances at Jack, who nods. The dealer throws a handful of cards down in front of Dylan.
Dylan: What're we playing?
Jack Diamond: A little poker. Nothing special. What brings you to the Diamond Lounge?
Dylan smirks as he picks up his hand.
Dylan: I'm not gonna assume you follow the XHF regularly. Afterall, you have a business to run here. I've recently come into ownership of a certain championship.
Jack's eyes widen, his expression hidden behind his mask.
Dylan: You're looking at the X*Crown Champion, sir.
Jack Diamond: I suppose congratulations are in order, then.
Dylan holds up a hand as he thumbs through his cards.
Dylan: All due respect, but spare me. I didn't come to brag and gloat, but I did come for that.
The hand turns to a point, as the camera follows Dylan's gaze to the prize of the night - the ICW Championship. Jack sees what Dylan points at, and smiles.
Jack Diamond: My friend, all you have to do is ask, and I'll hand it right over.
Dylan: I didn't come here to ask, or demand. I came to, how you say, play by the house rules.
Jack raises an eyebrow, intrigued by the offer.
Dylan: You run a nice casino, Jack. So how about we put your poker skills to the test. The ICW Championship...
He reaches into his pocket, and pulls out a large wad of cash.
Dylan: And five thousand dollars. A little pocket change, but certainly enough to buy a replica X*Crown, or seven. Relish in your glory.
Jack ponders this a moment, before he smiles.
Jack Diamond: Five thousand isn't much. But you know what? You're on!
All cards are swept back into the dealer's hand, and he drops five cards in front of both men, staggering the drops between the two. Jack picks his set up and looks at what he's got. A smile grows on his face. Dylan gulps, and receives two 10s, a 4, a 7, and a 2. All of Diamonds. Almost like Jack makes these decks exclusive. Seems like a trademark. Jack discards two cards, and receives two back. Dylan drops the 7, 4 and 2 for a 10, a King and a 3. Crap. Jack smiles up at him.
Jack Diamond: You nervous?
Dylan shrugs.
Dylan: Fear is not something I will readily put on display. But I am ready.
Dylan drops his hand, calling it as he does.
Dylan: Three of a kind.
Jack nods.
Jack Diamond: Not too shabby...
He grins. Shit.
Jack Diamond: But I've got a flush. Queen, 8, 6, 5 and 2. All in that sweet sweet diamonds baby.
He's clearly happy to pick up that 5 grand. Dylan looks bummed.
Jack Diamond: Sorry kid. But you just weren't lucky. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have legal matters to attend to.
Dylan bites his lip, pondering something. He speaks out as Jack begins to stand.
Dylan: How about one more round, Jack?
Jack looks down, almost condescendingly. Dylan continues.
Dylan: One more round, your ICW Championship still on the line. But in the spirits of Fuck Mongo...
He reaches into the backpack from much earlier, and the big gold slides right out. He drops it on the table.
Dylan: I'll even put the X*Crown on the line.
Jack stands there, looking down on Dylan. He tries to play to Jack's emotions, maybe his ego.
Dylan: You know you want to be the first ever three-time champ. Beating out Rob, Bobby, Rat and Harry. This is your opportunity to really make history. And think of how furious Mongo would be if the belt changes hands over gambling!
You can see the gears turning. As much as it doesn't mean a whole lot to Jack, pissing off Mongo is always a sweet deal. He sits back down.
Jack Diamond: One more round. Title for title. But after that, we're done playing.
Dylan holds up a hand.
Dylan: Scouts honor!
The dealer is summoned, and once again cards are dealt out. Dylan tries to read Jack's face, but years of Casino ownership has granted him a maxed out poker face ability. Dylan winces and picks up his cards.
Jack Diamond: Oh, and to make this just a little more nerve wracking? No discarding. You play what you got, alright bud?
Dylan nods slowly.
Dylan: Well, since I went first to play last time, how about you put 'er down first now?
Jack Diamond: Fair enough.
He lays his cards down, one by one for dramatic effect.
Jack Diamond: Ace... Ace... Ace... Ten... and Ten. Full House, champ. Your move.
To play up the scare factor, Dylan lays his cards down in the same manner.
Dylan: Let us see... Ace... King... Queen... Jack... and Ten... Royal Flush, for the champ to retain.
They sit in silence for a moment. The smile grows on Dylan's face as Jack shakes his head in defeat.
Dylan: Well, it seems like I've won.
Jack Diamond: It certainly does.
Jack gets up and picks up the ICW Championship. He looks down at it, reminiscing in fond memories of a bygone time. He hands the belt to Dylan, who takes it and the XCrown off the table. The ICW Championship is clasped together and slung around his shoulder.*
Dylan: Well Jack, it's been fun. Keep an eye out for End of Days, you'll see this bad boy once more.
Jack nods, and they part ways. Dylan walks past a few people as he exits the VIP area. He quickly shoves the VIP pass he'd bought earlier into their hands, and moves the ICW Championship off of his shoulder. He holds both titles in his hands as he exits the Diamond Lounge.
[Present Day]
We open back up on Dylan, in the X*Crown vault. He takes the ICW Championship, now back home where it belongs, and rubs a rag along the front plate. Shining it. Caring for it. He looks to the camera, nodding.
Dylan: It makes me proud that I get to be in the position I'm in today. I am the man that currently every wrestler in that locker room aspires to beat! There are four hungry, bloodthirsty, tough-as-nails competitors who all aspire to win the End of Days briefcase and get a chance to step up at a future Global event. But that's not why we're here.
He takes the ICW Championship and places it on its designated shelf. Not before planting a kiss on its front plate.
Dylan: I suppose we're here to get my reactions on Lord Stupidicus being a raving loony and Edward Dickless being unable to handle an interview. Or maybe you want my hot takes on Deviant, the Borgia, and All-Choke-No-Hype. Because at this time, my focus is solely on being the best X*Crown Champion in history. All it'll take is one reign...
He holds up one finger accordingly.
Dylan: ...and I will turn every hater into a believer. Take the AWF management team, who sent in the very man who killed AXW to take me out. I'm looking at you, Hyperion.
He leans in.
Dylan: Yeah, we all know AXW are the uncrowned winners of the Blood Money event. I outlasted everyone AWF could throw at me... all for them to throw a Billy Mays and shove a fresh Hyperion at the tired Anomoly to put him down. It's a tried and true method, sure. But this time Hype, I'm waiting for you. I will be more than prepared, and I'll be coming into the match at the same time as you. Meaning no advantages. Just an even playing field. Which is where the statistics show you will falter. Just not as much as Eddie D.
He tuts, shaking his head.
Dylan: ]I want you to know, Eddie, that when you step in the ring, in the main event of those global shows, things are gonna be a lot worse than a tough TV interview. Sure, you can make a plan, but you need to prepare, plan for failure. Expecting success is the last thing you should do. My mother always taught me to expect to fail but plan to overcome and succeed. And that's exactly what I plan to do. You may be a "big deal" at home in SWAT.
Emphasis on the finger-quotes.
Dylan: But in the overarching umbrella of the XHF Network, you're a mere raindrop compared to the storm I'll bring to the show. Of course, the one person who manages to be even less of a deal, even smaller of a drop is Dev. Has anybody heard from Dev? Should somebody call him up and make sure he's waken up from his slumber? I know when I brushed by him at Destiny's award show, he was very sleepy. Curled up on a chair. He might have been dead for all I know. Not that I care. Less undeserving people in the match means less effort will go to waste.
He shrugs, hands in pockets to mock Dev.
Dylan: Maybe next time Destiny will send someone who actually cares for the company. Johnny Bulldog and Brad Swann will have plenty to say on the opener in a few weeks when I send small D home empty pocketed.
He rubs an eye, sighing. He tries to start speaking but stares past the camera, as some lights flicker off his face. He groans.
Dylan: My teleprompter has starting glitching and not working, could this be the work of the EVIL DYNAMIC DUO of Evil-Bore and Lord Dumbassicus?
Finger guns. You know it.
Dylan: Evil-Borg is of no concern to me - I don't need to bother myself with him. But LD. You are proving to be quite the thorn in my side. But not only that, have you just outed yourself as an animal abuser?
Hands to the sides of his mouth, making this face.
Dylan: I simply cannot stand people who think they can just get away with attacking animals. Your kind make me sick, your cheap jokes and your sinister actions. You remind me of the main character of a specific Nintendo series. You all know the one. I think it's safe to assume you'll prance around, call yourself the special link between the House of Evil and World Domination. Well allow me to be your... final boss.
He grins, and for a second you almost wonder if he paid royalties to Zoran Sainovic for using that. Well no he didn't, because Zoran is dead.
Dylan: Not unlike Ganondorf, I am the King. Not of evil, but of the XHF Network.
He walks off frame, continuing his speech.
Dylan: The difference between yourself and Link, is you are not in possession of no Master Sword.
He comes back, brandishing the Blacklight. His signature weapon.
Dylan: Now this isn't exactly a Master Sword either, but it'll do. I will make all five of you, and you especially Dominicus, bend the knee and face your sins. All will fall. Beware the MESSIAH OF MAYHEM!
He draws a shaka across his throat and points the bat at the camera as we fade to black.
