Battleground #36 : Texas Turmoil (Show)

[eddied]

(Eric Dane is in the KGB dressing room, strapping his ankle, and forcing his wrestling boot on. The dressing room has food, champagne on ice and a couple of comfy armchairs. Eric rests back in one of the comfy armchairs. Eddie D walks in, crosses over to Eric in the chair, Eric looks up annoyed that his peace has been broken, Eddie raises a fist for a fist bump… Eric gives him a half smile, pauses for a half second and meets the fist with his own.)




EDDIE: Hi Eric. How’s your luck?

(Eddie takes a seat in the other armchair across from The Only Star and looks over with genuine interest in Eric's latest news.)

ERIC: Ups and downs, you know. Be better if my client were speaking to me. Kind of hard to manage somebody who doesn’t want to be managed...

EDDIE: You’re a smart guy, you’ll work it out. I guess Gracie is still pissed at us about the loss last week huh.

ERIC: Ah, ya think? She doesn’t like you. At all. And I’m pretty sure if she won’t listen to me, she sure as shit ain’t gonna listen to you. Plus, you were kind of being a giant dick.

EDDIE: Hey, I was just sharing the wealth of my tag experience and that broad starts says I'm mansplaining or some shit. Women. I didn’t distract her; she was yapping at me…

ERIC: Yeah, well, just do me a solid and don’t worry about her. As far as the KGB need be concerned she is persona non grata, and I’ll burn it to the fucking ground should anybody, yourself, Armand, anybody say otherwise. Capiche?

EDDIE: Capiche. No problem... Look I don’t want to fallout over last week. We have enough problems without warring with each other.

ERIC: Fair enough. And Eddie, I’m gonna need you to do me one serious favor in the future, my dude. No matter what happens, try and keep that giant melon head of yours from giving me any more concussions!

EDDIE: I think we both know that was a one off mistake. If either of us had meant to headbutt the other... Well... we've both seen opponents need medical attention when we really put our backs into it...

ERIC: I’m just sayin’ man, I still have a headache. Outside of that, you and me are solid so long as you don’t start telling me what to do. I’m not the type of motherfucker that takes direction very well, if you catch my drift.

EDDIE: If you listen to this dumb crowd they'll tell you that I needed to be lead around by Trent Jones and now by Armand Von Krauss. They are so, so wrong, but I'm also not here to teach an established performer to suck eggs just because they step into a new locker room. I got a bit of that shit from "the boys" when I arrived, I won't subject you to the same bullshit... Your record holds up to scrutiny as far as I'm concerned... Now let's look to the future...

(The two KGB members bump fists in a show of solidarity.)

EDDIE: Now that you’re on board and bound for greatness with us… Recruitment clearly isn’t a problem. That red hot fox Joanne Canelli is on board and has some great ideas – I can tell why Armand likes her; they have a very similar dark sense of humour. Recruitment and retention isn’t the problem.
Jonnie “Same as the old boss” Valentine is the problem. He’s letting the Society of The New Breed have their pick of the prime spots on the card. Corruption is a very American pass time, but it looks ugly and obvious on a wrestling card.

ERIC: Wrestling is corruption. That’s pretty much never gonna change, bud. What you can do, though, is make it work for you instead of against. Trust me on that, I’ve made a career on corrupting every opportunity that I could manage! It’s all about perception. But yeah, Valentine’s gotta go. To the hospital, preferably.

(Dane winks. Eddie lets out a snort style laugh that he didn't even know he'd ever done before. Embarrassed he races on with his point.)

EDDIE: Well I’m glad we’re on the same wavelength… I think the only way to unsettle Jonnie’s hold over the booking is to embarrass him. He brought in The Hellhounds as his big hitters. The prime draft that he thinks is going to get him to the postseason. They need to be beaten and on the biggest stage there is. The Anzac Cup.

ERIC: Yeah, that’ll shut ol’ Jonnie Fireside up for a few minutes at least. So what’cha got in mind, big man?

EDDIE: Well, Team KGB is well represented in the tag department with Armand and Frostbite, but over a year in SWAT and I haven’t really flexed my muscles in the tag bracket as well as I would have liked. Before coming to SWAT, picking up tag gold was how I paid the bills. I think the Anzac Cup tournament needs a second KGB tag team in the mix and I think my power and brutality would be well matched with your skill and cunning. We could really piss on Jonnie’s parade. Once the initial matches are selected, he can’t mess with the booking. You either get to the next round or you don’t. At some point we’ll meet the Hellhounds and knock them the fuck out.
What do you say?
Tag partners?

(Eddie offers up two fists pressed together hoping for a double fist bump, Dane considers this momentarily before returning the gesture.)

ERIC: Alright, yeah. Fuck it, my first time in SWAT was a guest shot for the Anzac tournament and I only made it to the semi-finals. Reckon it’s high time I corrected that mistake and stepped on a few heads in the process!

EDDIE: Fuck yeah!

(All of a sudden, as the two are reveling in the decision they have just bonded over, Eddie and Eric are startled by the very audible gurgling of Eddie D's guts. After a short but awkward silence Eric feels he has to say something.)

ERIC: How's that diet going? Isn't being a big immovable object kinda your thing?

EDDIE: Yeah... Doctor's orders sort of thing... The diet is fine... Must be "shake for dinner" time according to my belly alarm...

(Eddie tries to laugh off the gut grumble, but Eric doesn't feel like laughing along to make it easier for Eddie, enjoying Eddie's minor social discomfort. Eddie pulls out his protein shake from his kitbag nearby and looks at the label.)

EDDIE: I'll keep eating this shit, but only if I can get Butterscotch or Banoffee Blaze next time.

ERIC: Banoffee Blaze? Fancy a taste of that do ya?

EDDIE: I meant Banoffee Pie...

ERIC: Sure you did big guy... Sure you did.

(Eric Dane heads out of the locker room, taps Eddie on the shoulder condescendingly before smirking and leaving. Eddie is left staring at the ingredients list and clearly being unimpressed with his next meal choice as the scene fades to black.) 


#DeadlyEricAndEddie #BRINGitON #KGBtagtastic #AnzacCup #MainEventEddie

[SWAT Team]

[Coming back from a commercial for ‘Big Bubba’s Roadhouse and Chicken wing emporium, we’re ringside with our top notch announce team in Jeremy Tucker and Andrew Fulton. Privy to the best seats in the house, Tucker looks down the camera lens…]

Jeremy Tucker:”Welcome back folks, this next match is brought to you by our new partnership with Big Bubba’s Roadhouse and Chicken Wing Emporium.”

Andrew Fulton: “For Chicken Wings and Fighting Things…that’s Big Bubba’s!”

Jeremy Tucker: “Indeed, anyway already in the ring is our first victim…errr winner. He qualified for this match by winning the big combination all you can eat chicken wing eating contest slash tough man contest where he ate seventeen pounds of chicken wings before scoring a second round knockout of his opponent!”

Andrew Fulton “Come on Tucker…he could win. We’ve never seen Union Jack before. But there’s only one way to find out, let’s get to it!”

[As Frank Salazar takes Center ring, we get our first look at Conrad Hay. Wearing a plain black singlet, the front of which holds on for dear life against the gut it has been tasked with holding back. His hair is short-ish and swept to one side with mutton chop side burns that beg to ask ‘could he not grow a beard?’]

Frank Salazar: “This contest is scheduled for one fall! Currently in the ring weighing in at two hundred and seventy two pounds, give or take a few pounds of Big Bubba’s famous chicken wings…from Arlington, Texas…please welcome…Conrad Hay!”

[The fans cheer rowdily for the Texas boy as the good ol boy smiles and raises his arms in victory, spurred on by his fellow Texans he looks fairly confident as he checks his taped fists and tosses a couple punches through the air for good measure.]

Jeremy Tucker: “Well folks, Conrad Hay is in the ring and I have to say he’s larger than I expected. He’s probably a good six foot three and some two hundred and seventy plus pounds “

Andrew Fulton:” Not so sure there is anything good about it, but I hear he’s a dock worker and forklift operator in Arlington and, according to my notes here, apparently his hobbies include fighting AND swearing.”

Frank Salazar: “And his opponent…making his SWAT debut. From Playa Del Carmen Mexico by way of Norwich, England…weighing in at two hundred and twenty pounds…he is ‘El Oso de la Mala influencia’…accompanied to the ring by lil MC…please welcome ‘The bad influence bear’….Union Jack!”

[As the veteran SWAT ring announcer finishes up shaking his head at the length of the introduction, a booming voice from nowhere fills the arena, like an excited chihuahua with no social filter, the unseen speaker tries to sound tough despite the childlike inflection to his voice.]

Lil' MC: "You Ready for this, bitch?! We 'bout to have a mother fuckin' Picnic, Yo!"

[The arena is plunged into silent darkness for several moments. From the darkness, the sound of police sirens and distant gunfire rings out. After a moment or two, it seems the sound is gradually moving closer. The expected red and blue flashing of strobing beacon lights fills the stage.... silhouetting a lone figure standing in the darkness. As the noise builds, the figure raises it's arms out to the sides, a flowing cape obscures the shape further.]

Jeremy Tucker: “Wait…did they just say we’re having a picnic?”

Andrew Fulton: “I believe the exact words were mother fucking picnic yo!”

[Then a sudden drop of heavy rock completely drowns out the sound effects and the entire arena is filled with music, flashing red and blue lights and a sense of urgency. The near screamed lyrics from “The Bear” by Green Jelly booms over the PA System.]

"The bear went over the mountain to see what he could see. Hey!"

[The figure on stage throws the bear skin trimmed union flag cape back, revealing his Union Flag Bear mask and blue singlet. He thrashes rhythmically to the music, his cape billowing behind him.]

"The other side of the mountain was all that he could see, so!"



Jeremy Tucker: “I can honestly say that I have never seen anything like this before and I’m not sure that’s a good thing.”

Andrew Fulton: “Oh relax, it’s just a little fun.”

"He went back over the mountain to see what he could see. Hey!"

[The small bear drops to his knees and skids across the stage stopping right in front of the ramp before the Luchador.]

"The other side of the mountain was all that he could see!"

[He pops up to his feet and starts furiously strumming the plastic penis that hangs from the front of his costume, the sound of the little bell amplified by the megaphone he is holding close to his crotch.]

"You darn fool, you darn fool, can't you plainly see? hey!"

[Union Jack rushes forward and leaps over Lil' MC in a split leg jump.]

Jeremy Tucker: “He’s playing air guitar on a plastic…”

Andrew Fulton:” I know! Great isn’t it?”

"It's nothing but a cabbage head his grandma said to me. ho!"

[He lands gracefully and the two Bears sprint down the ramp.]

"Many a-miles I've traveled, a thousand miles or so, hey!
I never saw a head of cabbage with hair upon it before!
What's this cabbage?!"

[The confused crowd cheer and geer in equal measure as the two men peel off in different directions,Jack veering right, Lil' MC heading left.]

"The bear went over the mountain to see what he could see. hey!
The other side of the mountain was all that he could see, so!"

[Both men move to opposite sides of the ring and dive under the bottom rope, sliding into the ring.]

"He went back over the mountain to see what he could see. Hey!"

[Jack pops up to his feet and stands with his arms spread wide in the center of the ring, while Lil' MC poses on one knee in front, furiously strumming his penis as the houselights settle and the music fades off]

Jeremy Tucker: “He’s strumming again…”

Andrew Fulton: “Can’t go twice in one day anymore huh Tucker?”

Jeremy Tucker: “Well I…Umm I mean…shut up!”

DING! DING!! DING!!!

Jeremy Tucker:”And mercifully we’re underway! “

[Immediately Conrad Hay “puts up his dukes” and begins marching forward as though he were back at Big Bubba’s parking lot.]

Jeremy Tucker: “Hay squares up, but Union Jack is, is…what is he doing?”

Andrew Fulton:”Not sure but since he’s a British Luchador, I blame culture shock.”

[Upon seeing such a serious posture from his opponent, Union Jack puts his hands on his hips before realizing Conrad was serious. He puts his right hand forward, then motions behind him.]

Union Jack:]: “Oy! Mate! I think Bubba sends his regards. Is that tray of wings for you?”

[Both Conrad and the referee look to ringside for the imaginary wing provider as Jack buries a good portion of his boot into the gut and groin of the poor, hungry brawler. Crossing his eyes and letting go a groan echoed by the SWAT faithful, Conrad Hay collapses to the canvas like a ton of bricks as lil MC laugh uncontrollably at ringside.]

Jeremy Tucker: “Oh! Dear god that was vicious! The referee was distracted”

Andrew Fulton: “I don’t throw around the word genius often Tucker, but what a kick to the balls! I mean, the ref saw nothing…genius, genius I tell you!”

[Dragging the bigger man slowly back to his feet, Jack lands a right to the temple that wobbles Conrad before following up with a European uppercut that staggers Hay back into the corner.]

Jeremy Tucker:”Big strikes from ‘The Bad Influence Bear’, Conrad Hay backed I to the corner…lariat from Jack, he’s setting him up…exploder suplex from the corner! Conrad Hay is down again and Inion Jack is all smiles!”

Andrew Fulton: “In fairness, I’d probably be smiling too if I just got away with kicking a guy in the balls.”

[Launching Conrad half way across the ring with the kind of ease and skill that suddenly has people sitting up and taking notice, Jack is up to his feet in an instant with a lightning quick kip up drawing some applause.]

Jeremy Tucker: “There’s that luchador training in Mexico coming to the forefront. Union Jack is an odd mixture but like a hot fudge sundae, it works!”

Andrew Fulton: “He’s a gyrating bear with a mean streak, apparently very athletic and has attitude to spare, and you compare him to tucking ice cream?”

[Showing that aforementioned mean streak, Union Jack almost leaves a pair of boot prints in Conrad Hay’s carcass stomping him before dragging him back up to meet another stiff European uppercut.]

Jeremy Tucker:”Jack is just mauling him now…”

Andrew Fulton:” And let the bear puns begin!”

Jeremy Tucker: “We’re not doing that, no one wants that.”

Andrew Fulton: “Are you saying it would be un-bear-able?”

Jeremy Tucker:”I don’t even want to dignify that with a response.”

[Continuing his opponent’s backward momentum, Jack cracks a knife edge chop across the chest of Conrad rebounding the stunned Texan off the ropes and into a wringing armlock that he transitions into a snapping Russian leg sweep.]

CROWD: WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOooooo!!!

Jeremy Tucker:”Another crisp series of moves strung together by Union Jack and Conrad Hay is probably wishing he was back at Big Bubba’s right about now!”

Andrew Fulton:” ‘For Chicken Wings and Fighting things…That’s Big Bubba’s!’ What? I get a kickback every time I say it, ok?”

Jeremy Tucker: “I am really impressed with the technical know how of Union Jack.”

Andrew Fulton:”Get off his bear dick Tucker, the ship has left and you weren’t on it”.

[Grabbing the right boot of Conrad, Jack lock it under his arm and rolls Hay over into a one legged Boston Crab. Leaning back, there’s a certain effortless efficiency to Jack’s application of the hold.

Not even giving the poor man a chance to submit, Union Jack let’s up on the hold slightly only to transition into a tight STF.]

Jeremy Tucker: “Look at these transitions Fulton! The bad influence bear is for real!”

Andrew Fulton:”Sorry did you say something? I can take my eye off the midget in a bear suit hitting on the blonde in the front row! “

[Back to their feet, Conrad instinctively blocks an overconfident strike from Jack firing back what can only be called a SCUD missile of a right haymaker. Except unlike the missile, Conrad Hay’s punch is completely inaccurate and is easily ducked by the far fresher and more experienced fighter. The referee, however, isn’t so skilled and takes the full wrath of Big Bubba’s secret sauce and Conrad Hay’s all mighty right hand. The pitiful creature crumples to the canvas.]

Jeremy Tucker:”That’s gonna leave a mark folks! That ref is out! This could be Conrad Hay’s chance!”

Andrew Fulton:”To what? Run?! Here cones the little bear!”

[Abandoning his propositioning of a petit young lady in a SWAT halter top, lil MC bounds up the steps the through the first and second ropes to the cheers of the crowd. As lil MC sneaks up behind Conrad, Union Jack motions for Hay to turn around.]

Conrad Hay:”Oh no! I ain’t falling for that again! What kind of pale, slick talking Mexican are you anyways?!”

lil MC: “Hey dipshit! Down here!”

[Turning around, a clean right hand from lil MC is the perfect height to find Hay’s already abused groin area buckling him and dropping him to his knees, putting him at eye level with the devilish doppelgänger of Booboo.

Running to the corner, lil MC gets to the middle rope before shaking his head and going all the way up!]

Jeremy Tucker: “lil MC is gonna fly! Words I can’t believe I’m saying…”

Andrew Fulton: “What?! He’s a luchador too Tucker! Don’t discriminate!”

Jeremy Tucker: Don’t even try to make this a diversity issue!

Andrew Fulton: Calm down, it was a joke…mostly…

[Strumming his plastic penis to the roar and laughter of the crowd, lil MC leaps with the skill of an experienced luchador and knocks Conrad Hay to the mat with a graceful seated senton attack that put the plastic penis right in Conrad’s face!!!]

Jeremy Tucker: “Seated senton from lil MC and Hay is down! Wait there’s a problem…Hay is clutching at his throat!”

[Grabbing at his throat and clearly in distress, Conrad Hay is struggling to breath and explain himself.

Stopping his laughter long enough to grasp the situation, Union Jack grabs a back waist lock and performs a classic Heimlich maneuver that sends a tiny bell jingling across the canvas.]

Andrew Fulton: “A bell? Where did he get that? Oh my god! The plastic dick! He deep throated the plastic dick!”

Jeremy Tucker:” What?!”

Andrew Fulton: “What?”

Jeremy Tucker: “Oh dear god! Imagine the sweat and dirt…and it’s getting worse for Conrad Hay!”

Andrew Fulton:” How…oh…”

[Only given a moment’s reprieve, Union Jack maintains the waist lock and uses it to dump Conrad on the back o f his head with a picture perfect snapping German suplex. Holding on, Jack rolls through landing a couple of forearm shots to the back before repositioning Conrad and snapping off an overhead release belly to belly suplex that threatens to launch Conrad into another zip code sends him flying and tumbling over the downed referee and across the ring for a second time.]

Jeremy Tucker: “Conrad Hay literally being thrown from pillar to post as Union Jack continues to have his way with him.”

Andrew Fulton: “As Jack himself said earlier, he’s pulling Conrad’s singlet to the side and…”

Jeremy Tucker: “Andrew! Ummm back to the action…I think Union Jack is finally about to put Conrad Hay out of his misery.”

Andrew Fulton: “Oh come on, the party’s just getting started.”

Jeremy Tucker: “The party has been going on for seven pages…”

Andrew Fulton: “What?!”

Jeremy Tucker: “What?”

[Pandering to the crowd, Jack gyrates as the men laugh and the women cheer and soon lil MC is joining in the fun before leaving the ring as the ref starts to stir.]

Jeremy Tucker: “The referee is starting to stir and Jack is signalling the end is near! The crowd is cheering, we could have something here.”

Andrew Fulton: “Great, we’ve cornered the market on British luchador bears…let’s see how his merch does first. No way we’re marketing this to kids…”

[Pulling poor Conrad Hay from his dazed dreams of Big Bubba’s chicken wings and glory, Union Jack gets the stumbling tough man back to his feet just as the referee crawls his way toward the safety of the far corner.]

Jeremy Tucker: “Crawling to the corner, it’s nice to see the ref is ok!”

Andrew Fulton: “Ref, smeff…I could watch this train wreck forever.”

[Wobbling poor Conrad with yet another European uppercut, Jack follows up showing his striking in a match he’s dominated since the bell rang and he punted the man’s testicle’s into the seventh row. Backing him into the corner with stuff knife edge chops, the fans are doing their best Flair impressions.]

CROWD: WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOooooo!!!

Jeremy Tucker: “What is he up to now? He should be ending this”!

Andrew Fulton: “I think he is ending something…Conrad’s ability to have Children!”

[Setting Conrad up in the corner, he spread his legs, draping them over the middle ropes. Backing up, Jack points to lil MC at ringside.]

lil MC: “I said we was having a motherfucking picnic yo! Get ready for da pic-a-Nic basket!

[Backing up, Union Jack runs forward before booting the horribly exposed Conrad in the gonads once again. The poor Texan’s cries of anguish echo throughout the arena as Jack happily accepts his warning from the referee.]

Jeremy Tucker: “Conrad has set the bar high for durability but one has to wonder if they’ll discontinue the contest after this.”

Andrew Fulton: “Never! We need another one of these!”

Jeremy Tucker:” Dragging the man to his feet, Union Jack buckles him over with a kick to the midsection. Above the belt for once.”

[Doubling over the burly brawler, Jack grabs a double underhook, roars in an English dialect and lifts Conrad up for a double underhook sitout facebuster, rolling him over for the pin and applying a lateral press as he nods to the refs count!]

Jeremy Tucker: “Double underhook facebuster! He’s out! Go for the pin please god!”

Andrew Fulton:”Looks like play time is over.”

………………One!

………………………….Two!!

………………………………………….Three!!!

Frank Salazar:” The winner of this match…’The Bad Influence Bear’….Union Jack!!!”

[As ‘The bear’ by Green Jelly plays and the fans laugh and cheer, lip MC and Union Jack celebrate as though they’d just won the World Heavyweight Championship. They hug and Jack places lil MC to sit on his shoulder aka Macho Man and Elizabeth and the fans eat it up. Flashes rain upon them and video feeds go to social media as the announce team makes the call.]

Jeremy Tucker: “And that’s it folks. The debut of ‘The Bad Influence Bear’ has been one to remember. His style is nothing like his friend Pequeno Dinosaurio’s to say the least.”

Andrew Fulton:” I, for one, greatly enjoyed this.”

Jeremy Tucker: “You would, Conrad Hay was overwhelmed and outmatched and this should have been over right after the bell sounded!”

Andrew Fulton: “Would’ve could’ve should’ve Tucker. This match was what it was and what it was was a great showing by a promising young talent!”

Jeremy Tucker: “I’d like to disagree but I can’t. Dispute his antics and theatrics, Union Jack is the real deal. The locker room doesn’t want to underestimate this Yogi and Booboo pair!”

Andrew Fulton: “I wouldn’t insult them so Jeremy. These bears have something, Mark my words.”

Jeremy Tucker: “Speaking of words, we’re gonna take a break but here’s a word from our newest sponsor, Big Bubba’s Roadhouse and Chicken wing emporium!”

Andrew Fulton: “For Chicken Wings and Fighting Things…that’s Big Bubba’s! We’ll be right back!”

[Lucky Linda]

[The tron lights up reading After New Horizons.] We see the locker room after the main event has finished and the show has gone off the air. Lucky Linda looks exhausted and is removing her wrist tape when The Big Bad Bustling Bandit, Mad Dog Paul Soutter enters the room.

“This close” he says, and gives her a there there pat on the back. “Don’t take it to heart too much, Rally may be a pig, but he is a World Class Wrestler.

“I know” she sighs and has a mouthful of water still catching her breathe “Credit where credit is due. He isn’t World Champion for nothing. Maybe next time.”

“Looks like next week you got a four way with Blaze, Graysie and Liz Idol.” Says Soutter. “And I have Keith Williams.” Suit preens at the mention of his match.

“Finally.” She rests the bottle down and grabs her phone. “I can’t wait to watch you shut his sleaze bag mouth.”

“I can’t wait to do it!” Suit replies. “And it will be good to see you take the Amazons down, they are getting pretty lippy, and need a reminder who is the true power in that division.” Linda hasn’t acknowledged anything Soutter just said, and is staring at her phone, something is wrong, she is just frozen glaring at it, then up at Suit. “What’s wrong?” asks Paul.

“What’s wrong?” repeats Linda trying to remain calm. “What are your plans for later tonight Paul?” she asks now fuming.

“Tonight?” repeats Suit, puzzled. “Nothing. No plans.”

“No motel room and spa’s with the girls?” Linda snaps thru gritted teeth.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Paul is clueless.

“Right here!” she shoves the phone in his face. “I don’t know who you were sending this to, but you sent it to ME!” she is raging now. “Opps. Wrong box.”

“I didn’t send anything to anyone.” Suit is now getting angry also. “Look.” He pulls out his phone and opens it and there is a message there from him to Linda. “I … I don’t know what the hell this is, I didn’t send this crap.”

“Oh really?” Linda is sarcastic now. “So what then … .you got hacked?”

“YES!” Suit cries. “That must be what happened.” He is looking frantic. “What time did this come thru?” They both look. “That’s when I was doing the Suite with Valentine!”

“Hmmmmm?” Linda is looking thoughtful. “I knew it.” She smiles now like she never doubted him for a moment. “Who though?”

Together “JACKSON!”

“That son of a bitch!” Soutter snaps. “God damned turkey is out of control!”

“What if it wasn’t him?” Linda asks. Ever the thoughtful one. “What if it was someone else and Rally had nothing to do with it?”

“Oh! It was him” Soutter answers. “Come to think of it I saw him loitering around before I went out there for the Suite, I remember because I thought about dropping him before your match.”

“Somebody needs to drop him.” Linda replies “His ribs are messing with peoples lives. We have lost Radu and El Combatiente as direct consequences of them. Now this. Poor Rajiv Khan is scarred for live. Vampira just got assaulted in Goth’s match.”

“It’s gotten out of hand. Radu and EC shoulda come back at him and put a stop to it, instead of taking their ball and going home. Goth will show him in Texas though, he may well even take that gold belt from him.” Soutter nods convincing himself this may well happen.

“Well, first things first, you got Williams and I got the Amazons. Then, Rally can be ours.” Linda looks vengeful as we fade.

[sc4r]

| MEMENTO MORI |

## Welcome to nowhere, and finding out where it is
And fixing your problems and starting over again
You're feeding your ego with what you can see outside
And you're killing yourself for not speaking your mind ##

The scene opens up backstage of the Amarillo Civic Center. A crowd of staff, security and executives ebb and flow through corridors and hallways. The camera pans back and forth before finding the intended target; Devon, fresh off his win, sitting in the usual place on top of a loading crate.

"I swear this like a greatest hits tour for me. First Memphis, now Amarillo. Texas was the scene of a lot of things back in the day. Only imagine where we'll be next. Will it be another black from the past. Nawleans, 'Zona, maybe we'll take a wrong turn at Albacrazy." He undoes his glove and slides the compression sleeve off his arm and throws them on top of the jacket next to him. "It's bitter sweet though.." he stops undoing the wrist tapes and just stares off in the distance.

"Coming back to these places, seeing all the new faces. And.. not just in the ring. Backstage too. Even the guy at the TSA is different.. I figured the ol' man would have his casket at the check point, he had been there so god damn long. I think they built the airport around him. Anyways. The few years I took off were... weird for me. I walked away for a lot of reasons."

"I had a chance to open a school and give back. Gave me time to heal. There was also some bad things I was able to walk away from... a lot of bad things actually. And bad people." He shakes his head before looking at the camera. "And the entire time, there was this... voice in the back of my head. Screaming and crying for me to fill the void. The void I didn't know I would have or even had until when I looked on my TV and I saw an old friend in her retirement match."

"See, I never had one of those. I didn't want. No point. I just.. slid into the shadows. But seeing her's.. I don't know.. it made me feel like something was.. missing. And I hated myself for the longest time because of it. I was done, I wasn't going back. I was over the bullshit and the toxicity. But, I couldn't shake that feeling, I couldn't shake the idea that somehow, someway, all of that was.. worth it."

He shakes his head. "It's a wild feeling to look back on everything, all the pain and torment and grief and anguish that you've either caused or suffered and to think that it was worth it. All the memories come flooding back and you can't help but smile. And you come back and the smile fades, because you're the only one left and you look around and you're the only one for proverbial miles."

He gets up off the crate and grabs his coat and sighs. "And it sucks. I'm the last of a dying breed. A man out of place and out of time. A remnant of a time long forgotten." He starts to walk away but then stops, his head tilted to the side slightly. "It's... strange. Knowing that with you, the memory will die."

|FIN|

[thejerseydevildiva]

Act 1: Its so good to be back!


"You can never keep a good woman down.  I may leave but I will always come back."



Voice Over: It's strange when you really think about it. I went from runnin' a family to becomin' Prince of the city. It's just like havin' a family but a lot more bullshit. Not only do I have to keep the peace, but show them that you can handle anythin' that they can throw at me. But I did learn from the best and he taught me that no one is better than I am. I am his protege, I am his greatest creation... I am his childe!


The scene opens on the beautiful city of New York. The city was quiet except for a few cars that made their way through the streets heading toward parts of the city that were still open. The night seemed strange almost like something was out of place. The smell of the city was missing, the sounds, and the night life. The camera moves over the city and soon comes to a stop on a club with a rather long line that seemed to wind from the door along the sidewalk and around the corner. Outside stood a rather large man dressed in a dark suit, keeping those out that didn't belong. The camera moves to the interior of the club where there was a set of steps that went up or down. The sound of heavy music could be heard coming from the lower floor, with lights flashing through the glass floor that was over the dance floor below. The camera moves to the main bar and to tables that were spaced out but yet all occupied at the moment. The camera moves to a long stairway that lead to upper level where the offices and private rooms could be found. At the end of the hallway was a set of double doors that were slightly opened. The sound of voices could be heard coming from within, and we see sitting at the head of the long table Joanne Canelli dressed in her usual dark colored suit. Her pale skin seemed to almost glow against the high backed black leather chair that she sat in. Around the table there sat men and women dressed in different attire, and from all walks of life.

Joanne: Thank you for join' me here tonight. I know you were expectin' du Lac but...

A woman dressed in what could be considered a short black evening gown. Her long black hair framed her face as her violet eyes seemed to sparkle in the dim light over head.

Woman: Why were we not told about this change?

Voice: Because he didn't trust us! It should be one of us, not this pretender!

The voice belonged to a rather large burly man dressed in a black leather jacket, with tattoo's over the back of the back of his bald head. Joanne looks over at him and smirks.

Voice Over: Pretender... A word that he warned me would be tossed around in more ways than one. Usurper! Another one that I know one of them will say before the night is out. He chose me! The rest of these fools are not what he wanted to run this city. I already run a family and have my hands in everythin' that I can. And now I'm back in SWAT... There is nothin' that I cannot do!

Joanne gets to her feet and starts to walk around the table toward the large man.

Joanne: Pretender? Funny if he wasn't sure I was the one to take charge then I wouldn't be here now would I?

Woman 2: That is true. But he would have chosen one of us. We have never seen you before today.

Joanne: Really? Lets see two months ago when he had the big party, and I was on his arm in the black cocktail dress. All of you were there. So don't pull that shit with me. I expected somethin' like that from the dog over there, not someone like you there Carmella.

Carmella: That was you?

Joanne: Yeah... That was me. So needless to say I'm here to stay. And if anyone has any problems with it there's the door.

None of them move as Joanne stops in front of the door looking back at the others around the table.

Joanne: Good choice. Now that's over you can leave. He told me that I just needed to make my presence known. I'll deal with everythin' in the next few days. Right now I have other thin's to worry about for the moment.

Man: What a joke! Du Lac would have addressed everything by now.

Joanne walks up behind him and smiles placing her hands on his shoulders. Her eyes flash red as she snaps his neck. The others get to their feet, as his lifeless body falls to the table.

Woman: My God!

Joanne: Does anyone else want to deal with business?

They all shake their heads as she smiles.

Joanne: Good! Now get out!

They head for the door leaving Joanne alone in the office. She walks to the window that over looks the bar area and smirks the whole while watching them head toward the front door.

Rude: Damn boss.

Joanne: What?

Reno: You put the fear of God into them.

Joanne: Seph told me that I needed to assert my dominance.

Rude: You sure did. What do you want us to do about the dead guy?

Joanne: Take him up to the roof and tie him down. Just in case he's not dead. Actually stake him there... he's not goin' to be goin' back to tell anyone about what happened.

Reno: Sure thing boss. You going to be ok?

Joanne nods.

Joanne: Yeah I'll be fine. You go ahead and do that and then you guys can relax the rest of the night.

Rude: Right. We'll be back in a few minutes.

Reno and Rude grab the body from the table, and head out of the office and out into the hallway leaving Joanne alone. She continues to stare out the window and a strange smile appears on her lips.

Joanne: It feels so good to be back in SWAT. I have to admit that I didn't plan on comin' on back but somethin' in me told me that I really needed to. And you know what I'm glad that I did. I'm facin' off a man that came into the company to help Radu but ended up getting' involved in somethin' that didn't even concern you. Did you ever think that when you messed with one person in the KGB that the rest of us wouldn't get involved? You didn't did you?

She turns from the window and walks to a table where glass decanters sat filled with dark liquids. She pours a little from one and then adds a bit from another. She downs it as she sits in the high backed leather chair.

Joanne: I'm not sure what to really say about you. I don't really don't know anythin' about you besides what I've been told, and seen. You see I don't like a lot of people and now you are on my shit list. The KGB is a family and one that sticks together and helps one another. So if you mess with me you mess with all of us and that isn't good for you. I mean I can hold my own in any match that I'm in and will do whatever I need to do to win this match without to much trouble. I guess I'll have to go back and watch some of your matches to try to figure out what you have actually accomplished since you've been here, if anythin'. I'm in the hall of fame, I've held titles when I was here. So needless to say that I am well known in these halls. Ask anyone and they will tell you who I am in hushed tones.

Joanne leans back putting her feet up on the edge of the table.

Joanne: I think I'll be alright in this match. I'm not goin' to take it easy on you, let alone hold back. I'm not goin' to underestimate you and you really shouldn't underestimate me either if you had any sense in your head boy. This will be your end and there isn't anythin' that you can do to stop me. We are the Mafioso and we get paid to kick your ass. See you soon and good luck, you're goin' to need it.

As the scene fades out all is seen a pair of red eyes as the sound of a growl is heard.

[Jay Stevens]

Backstage at the Amarillo Civic Center, Katie Moss stands in front of a colorful SWAT banner.

Moss:
“Katie Moss here and I am joined by the reigning and defending SWAT Amazons Champion, ‘Kid Dynamite’ Nicole Anderson.

Anderson enters from the right and flashes a grin and accompanying wink to the audience, the Amazons championship proudly wrapped around her waist.

Moss:
“Nicole, when we last saw you here in SWAT, you were able to defeat The Industrial Woman and capture the Amazons championship. Tonight you are set to make your first defense against Dangerous Donna, who has positioned herself as the Number One contender.

Anderson loudly scoffs.

Anderson:
“Oh, she ‘positioned’ herself alright. But the pummeling I’m going to give her is going to be completely different than the one she took to get the shot at the Amazons Championship.”

Moss’ face is flush with sheepish embarrassment.

Anderson:
“I was excited to get the call that I would be following up my historic victory over the Industrial Woman with another opportunity to showcase my skills, prove to the world that it wasn’t a fluke and that I’m the rightful champion. Would it be Isabel Rios? Lucky Linda? Graysie Parker?”

The Kid rolls her eyes.

Anderson:
“Nope. Then they have the nerve to tell me I’m fighting a ‘hooker’ and I got excited. I’ve been trained by one of the best hook-and-shoot wrestlers in history so now I can show that I can do some serious mat wrestling too.”

Moss:
“Well…”

Katie Moss is abruptly cut off.

Anderson:
“Nope. I’m fighting a literal ‘woman of the night’. But hey, I’ll make the best of it and try to take this seriously. Can I reuse a joke from last time?”

Moss:
“I don’t think this is necessarily a forum for jokes…”

Anderson cackles.

Anderson:
“It isn’t?! Then how do you explain the abomination that I’m going to share the ring with? Don’t you remember why we’re here? To be silly and just have fun? Coat ourselves in lube and raid the recycling bin for sex toys for our ring gear?”

Nicole chuckles to herself, very proud of rehashing an Industrial Woman insult and twisting it for her current opponent. Katie Moss isn’t as amused and reasserts herself.

Moss:
“You seem angry about your opponent instead of focused on the match, why is that?”

Anderson:
“I’m insulted. I came to SWAT to fight those who think they’re the best and show them that I’m actually the best. This isn’t an opportunity to do that. It’s a freakshow.”

Moss:
“But you are still tasked with defending the championship inside that ring.”

Anderson:
“And I will. Successfully. Dangerous Donna may have added another notch to her bedpost, but I’m going to add another tally in the win column. And then I’ll move on to someone more serious. Because I am the Amazons Champion, and that is serious.”

Anderson storms off leaving Moss in the dust.

Moss:
“Kid Dynamite, the Amazons Champion. Back to you at ringside.”

[HNDRXX]

“I wake up every day, same as you.”

HNDRXX paces in front of a SWAT banner.

“Now is the time when I say, this is my time to shine right? Things gonna turn around for me?”

HNDRXX wags a finger.

“Naw my dude, That is the talk of someone who is hoping they dad comin’ out of the hospital after getting stuck with COVID. That’s the talk of the man who take off his mask and tryna to pretend everything normal, and everything gonna be okay.

Because he wants to believe it gonna be okay. “

Hndrxx begins to slowly pace back forth, already in his wrestling trunks and wearing the same slowly tattering black hoody as always, the name Supreme on it. He swings his legs with some limbering kicks. 

“He don’t wanna have to get up in the morning and do the work that gonna make it okay. He ain’t willin’ to accept that some things, they ain’t changing. His dad not gettin’ up out of that hospital bed with the tube down his throat.

Naw, my dude.

The fool taking his mask off and declaring the world back to normal? Like normal was something we should’ve been proud of?

Naw my dude.”

Hndrxx shakes his head.

“What happened, was I came up short. I came up short after giving Pequeno my best shot. What do you do when your best isn’t.

Quite.


Good.



Enough.?”

Hndrxx flexes his gloved hands and rolls his shoulders in preparation for tonight's match.

“Man, and I have got to hear enough empty platitudes for a lifetime, I know you have to. So I ain’t about to bore you with no toxic positivity. You got fools like Union Jack tryin’ to talk down like because you can show another man respect after combat, makes you weak. Naw my dude, Respect is the very center of combat.

One of these things that bleed out into life in general feel me? A lot of men think it’s about chasing that clout. About tryna to look like the smartest man in the room. Strange that so many of those same dudes end up lookin’ back at that period of they life wishin’ they hadn’t listened to Imagine Dragons and worn a mask that looked like the stuffed replica of the cowardly lion. “

Hndrxx wags his finger again.

“But I didn’t come to Texas to jabber on about some Takeshi six-nine lookin fool in a mask my dude. Benjamin Bolt an’ me, we ain’t got an issue to settle, we ain’t got beef far as I can see. What we do got, is a shot to showcase. We got a shot to show the people in the crowd, and in the office that we been putin’ the work in.

That’s what Battleground means to me, summation of the work. I hope you gave the work the same respect I do”

Hndrxx walks away from the banner.

[Dangerous Donna]

[We see backstage Warren W Webber. He is in his tuxedo and looks all embarrassed as beside him is Amazon newcomer. Dangerous Donna.]

Webber : I’m joined folks by SWAT Amazon number one contender, Dangerous Donna. Donna, you have been quite the talk of SWAT and the wrestling world.

Donna : Talk of the Wrestling World? What is this, Junior High?

Webber : Well, you sort have jumped the q ….

Donna : (interrupting) I came into this place a naïve wide eyed rookie, and not even a match in and I am humiliated!

Webber : You sort of brought it o …

Donna : (interrupting) Yeah. Blame the woman. That sounds about right. I had it coming. Is that where we are at?

Webber : No. (getting defensive) No no no.

Donna : It sounds like it. That’s all our champion see’s. Wants to ‘slut shame’. Like she is some innocent untouched flower. Waiting for the right man to blossom.

Webber : I don’t think that’s what she …

Donna : And what about our Commissioner? Releasing VIDEOS of me? To make money from a poll?

Webber : A poll you won and retained your title match opportunity from ….

Donna : I should sue that jerk for every cent he has. Nobody asked me for my permission to release any video. This is an outrage!

And don’t get me started on his impersonator.

Webber : That would be Oxford Osland.

Donna : (her eyes glaring hatred) He will pay for humiliating me. SWAT will pay for humiliating me! Nicole Anderson will pay for thinking I am nothing but some rookie hooker. She may have thought she was special coming in here and winning that belt in her first match in SWAT, but let me tell you, I am going to take that belt, just to spite her!

Then, I am going to send her skank ass back to Canada and she can be all miss virtue and wholesome hero over there to them Cannucks, but I am going to up the ante here!

Webber : Up the Ante?

Donna : SWAT has it all. We got trash like Blaze Freya dropping her pants every show, and I am the talk of the town?

We got Lucky Linda running about the backstage with The Founder taking every short cut in the book.

Webber : Now hang on a minute. She is

Donna : She is an over rated pandering pig.

We got these Hired Killers running around armed?

Who else. Ohhh yeah. The No Man’s Land winner Isabel Rios. Calling me a star fish?

Honey. You wait until I get you in the ring, I will get you on your back and show you what it’s all about.

Webber : Wow. Quite the …

Donna : Zip it Wacko! Hold the mic and shut your stinking mouth.

Else you will be getting added to the list for the lawyers.

That’s better. Good boy.

[She pats him like he is a dog.]

Nicole Anderson. You are in Danger mole!

Serious Danger!

You think this match and defence is a joke? Jokes gonna be on you cow when you’re the one looking up at the lights for the 3 count!

[Donna storms off.]

Webber : Wow! There she is guys. Dangerous Donna. I think we need to get HR over here, stat.

[Deleted]

Backstage, the catering area was a beehive of activity with people coming and going in droves.Tables of food are spread out and SWAT had spared no expense.Walking past the Big Bubba’s section and grabbing a salad, Vanessa Martinez, the agent for Pequeno Dinosaurio is grabbing some last minute refreshments prior to her client’s big title defense against Oxford Osland.

Checking her phone, she doesn’t catch the Television Champion sneaking up behind her. “Hey…”

Practically jumping out of her heels, she almost drops her salad, “You shouldn’t sneak up on me like that!”

Immediately seeing the error of his approach, he apologizes. “Sorry Vanessa, I didn’t mean to startle you. Actually, I’ve been looking for you. I wanted to talk to you about something.”

Sensing her client’s query, she nods her head. “I get the nerves, he’s impressive, but you’re ready for Osland, I saw your promo, you looked great. Training wise, you’re on track. You’ve upped your effort in the gym. Even with…” sighing heavily…she continued, “…Union Jack showing up. You’re on fire! Let’s keep it that way with a win tonight!”

Nodding in agreement, she was right. He was ready. Oxford Osland represented a significant challenge, but he was ready. “Thanks, but I actually wanted to talk about Oso. Look, I know you don’t like Jack, but you have to admit the crowd ate it up tonight! You should sign him…I’m going to team with him eventually. He’s my friend, you might as well get another client out of it. Think of how it will look to your father if you expand your client base this soon?”

Stunned, Vanessa takes a moment to consider Dinosaurio’s request and starts to shudder at the thought of working with Union Jack and his various ‘charms’. “I get it, he’s your friend. But unfortunately…” she sighed again. “…the worst part is, you have a point.” Resigning herself to what she was about to say, she steels her will. “Tell him I’ll talk to him about representing him and congratulations on his win and…” Sighing again, she was shaking her head now. “…I forgive him for Tijuana. But this doesn’t mean I’m signing him though, we’ll talk. That’s it.”

Smiling a true beaming smile, Pequeno Dinosaurio realizes what Vanessa is doing for him. “That’s enough for me. Just remember, Oso is very talented Vanessa, if you don’t sign him someone who doesn’t get him will. I know you can do for him what you’re doing for me. Besides, he’s a friend Vanessa. Thanks for hearing me out at least.” Understanding that he was babbling on now, he stops himself. Regaining his composure, he turns to leave but stops.

“I guess what I mean is, Thanks Vanessa, it means a lot to me. I’ll see you back at the dressing room. I’m going to start warming up.” Leaving her holding a salad and a bottle of water.

For now, she was smiling and that was the first step to getting Jack signed.

[Oh-Oh]

Oxford Osland walks into view holding his jaw. Our hero caught a hot one from Dangerous Donna earlier in the evening and he's still feeling the effects. Before Osland can turn the corner towards his locker room, he's cut off by Katie Moss.

Osland: "I don't have time to flirt with you right now Katie, I'm a little busy."

Katie is both relieved and excited at the same time. Without hesitation she drops the mic down to her side and appears ready to walk away.

Osland: "Did you see what happened to me earlier?"

Katie thought she was going to get away scot free, but she should've known better.

Osland: "I tried to be a nice guy. I tried to explain..."

Katie watches as Osland replays 'the slap heard around the backstage area' in his mind. Osland quickly snaps out of it, remembering he has an image to uphold.

Osland: "Did you say you had questions for me?"

Katie shakes her head no, and makes one last attempt to sneak away.

Osland: "Listen, we both know that tonight is a huge night for me. Tonight is my first opportunity to claim championship gold here in SWAT in a 1 on 1 wrestling match. No distractions, I don't have to worry about twenty-nine other athletes looking to play spoiler. Speaking of which, I certainly owe Pequeno a receipt from the SWAT Rumble where he eliminated me."

Osland takes a moment to reflect.

Osland: "Let's face it, our paths were destined to cross sooner or later, and it just so happens that tonight is the night. The SWAT Television Championship is on the line, and any championship that I set my sights on suddenly becomes the most prestigious and sought after championship in the company."

Our hero stands a little taller, his chest expands.

Osland: "Truth be told, I believe my match with Pequeno for the TV Championship is capable of headlining any show at any venue. I admire Pequeno's work ethic, and believe that he is a superstar in the making. I would be remiss if I didn't give proper credence to my opponent's ability inside of the ring - and I can assure the wrestling world that I have been waiting for this championship opportunity from the moment I signed my contract."

He believes every word.  

Osland: "When the some clears and the dust settles, all anyone will want to talk about will be the fact that Oxford Osland put on another match of the night worthy performance and captured his first championship in SWAT in the process. The Championship that signifies being the most important and influential wrestler on television. Period."

As Osland's voice trails off, we notice that someone or something has caught his attention. 

The camera turns, and there she is. 

[Vanessa Martinez.]

Osland: "It was nice catching up Kelly, but if you'll excuse me..."

She doesn't even bother correcting him at this point. We watch as Osland jogs over to Vanessa as our scene fades.

[Cut.]
 

[SWAT Team]

[Buffalo Soldier by Bob Marley hits and Benjamin ‘Been Jamin’ Bolt makes his way down to the ring.]

Frank Salazar : The following contest is scheduled for ONE fall. Introducing first, now in the ring, hailing from the Isle of Jamaica! He comes in at 6’7 and 214lbs …. ‘Been Jamin’ …. Benjamin_BOLT!

And introducing his opponent, hailing from Flatbush, New York. He comes in at 5’10 and 180lbs …. HNDRXX!!!

[As ominous chorals vocals come on.]

[Denzel Curry starts to speak.]

"I went from sticking pennies in the jar
To offshore bank accounts
See me and my conglomerates is lucrative
I'm talking big money, big chains"

[As the beat kicks in, HNDRXX appears in the entrance, popping the color of his leather ring jacket, before walking down towards the ring with a purpose, slapping hands with any outstretched to him.]

"Jesus, please deliver us from evil
Please pray over all my people
What you see in life's illegal"

[HNDRXX makes it down to the apron as the chorus hits. Mocking a prayer along to the lyrics, before turning around]

"I don't wanna use my desert eagle"

[FINGER GUNS]

::dingding::

Jeremy Tucker: There is the bell and we are off.

Andrew Fulton: HNDRXX how do we pronounce that?

Jeremy Tucker: Just do your best.

<The two men lock up and HNDRXX goes behind. Benjamin Bolt fights his way free and goes back face to face but is met with a vicious European uppercut.>

Jeremy Tucker: HNDRXX is a vaunted striker. He has a martial arts background.

Andrew Fulton: Of course he does. With the growing popularity of Cobra Kai everyone is signing up for karate again.

<HNDRXX sends Bolt into the ropes and lands a cravat as he comes back. He sends him again and lands a shootkick.>

Jeremy Tucker: Benjamin Bolt rolls outside to regroup.

Andrew Fulton: HNDY brushing off his special kata!

Jeremy Tucker: Benjamin Bolt a guy trying hard to get his break. If he can somehow pull the upset off this promising up and Comer...

<HNDRXX follows to the outside and rolls Bolt back in the ring. As HNDRXX follows him in, Bolt runs the ropes and attempts a clothesline on the way back.>

Jeremy Tucker: Missing with the clothesline! Back off the ropes. Lots of momentum now... but HNDRXX hits a super kick on the way back!

Andrew Fulton: Sexy Boyyyyyoy! He's not your boy toy!

Jeremy Tucker: What the hizzy?

Andrew Fulton: Just felt the urge to burst out in song.

<HNDRXX goes behind and hits a German suplex. He then chains it to a northern light suplex. Finally chains it to a bridging half Nelson suplex.>

1.........

2.......

Kickout!

Jeremy Tucker: Thought he had him there. Beautiful array of suplexes.

Andrew Fulton: When I think of beautiful I think of sunsets, mountains, and celebrities. But you do you.

Jeremy Tucker: HNDRXX a little frustrated he can't put this man away lands a vicious snap suplex!

Andrew Fulton: Benjamin Bolt is a good dude. He took me out for traditional Jamaican cuisine. I tried to order the ox tail, but he insisted I order the spicy jerk chicken. Eyes _tearing_.

Jeremy Tucker: HNDRXX now puts his opponent in a wristlock and snaps him over with a suplex. Really showcasing some excellent Greco-Roman now.

Andrew Fulton: Burned so badly coming out the other end.

<Benjamin Bolt tries to regroup again but HNDRXX dives outside with an enzuguiri. He rolls him back in then heads to the top rope.>

Jeremy Tucker: Springboards off the top with a second enzuguiri!!

1......

2......

Kickout!

Andrew Fulton: I tried to be rasta once. Until I found out you can't eat pork.

Jeremy Tucker: HNDRXX grabs Bolts legs and starts stepping over for the spinning toe hold now!!

Andrew Fulton: I can never not have my morning bacon.

<With his hands still holding Bolt's legs, HNDRXX lifts him up over his shoulders. He carries him to the middle of the ring then hits a go to sleep.>

Jeremy Tucker: The Tokyo Exorcist!

1......

Andrew Fulton: My least favorite fast and the furious movie.

2......

Kickout!

<HNDRXX shoots Bolt with the finger guns then runs at his fallen body and hits a devastating penalty kick.>

Andrew Fulton: Pew pew!

Jeremy Tucker: HNDRXX lifting Bolt to his feet. What is he up to now? It can't be good.

Andrew Fulton: Uncle Usain would be so disappointed right now.

<HNDRXX lands a roundhouse kick to the head.>

Jeremy Tucker: That's the Casablanca Flamethrower!!

1......

2....

Kickout!

Andrew Fulton: Smart comment.

Jeremy Tucker: No Andrew the guy in your ear piece told you to make a smart comment.

Andrew Fulton: Then the leviathan on HONDO'S pants looks more like my turds after eating tons of foliage.

<HNDRXX locks him up in a double wristlock reverse octopus hold.>

Jeremy Tucker: oh that's the Buddha Strangled in Vines (Double wrist-clutch reverse octopus hold) …. He taps!! He taps!! Benjamin Bolt taps!!!

Andrew Fulton: ::takes off his t shirt that reads "Always Bet on Bolt" and throws it in the trash::

Frank Salazar: Here is your winner by submission...... HNDRXX!!!!

Jeremy Tucker: What a showing from the fantastic newcomer from NAWC.

Andrew Fulton: I applied for a commentary position at NAWC. Was ready to say F you Jerry.

Jeremy Tucker: Oh yeah? And how did that work out?

Frank Salazar : Winner of the match by submission …. HNDRXX!!!!

[vastrix]

In a conference room made out to be like an extra large office, Armand von Krauss sits behind a desk. He has a computer that he seems to be working at, though without any real power to speak of in the company. What could he be working on?

The only one of Armand’s minions that are in the office is Gabriel Tuck. He sits across from Armand, leaning back in his chair and smoking a cigarette.

Gabriel Tuck: You know, it’s great that you actually have a show off so that you can work on your commissionership duties.

Armand looks up from the computer with a baleful glare at Gabriel.

Armand von Krauss: Frostbite and I are defending the tag team titles tonight. It is not, as you say, a night off.

Gabriel waves Armand off with the hand holding the cigarette, accidentally throwing ashes everywhere on the desk.

Gabriel Tuck: You’re facing Team Fairtex, boss. It might as well be a day off. It’s not like you will have to work hard for the victory tonight. You got it easy, boss.

Armand seems to think about it before nodding. He gets out his golden cigarette box and gets out an Egyptian cigarette. He lights it up and breathes out a cloud of smoke.

Armand von Krauss: It is true that the challenge tonight is one of a lesser value, but I will treat it as I would any other match. I will go in, plow through my opponents, and teach them to never darken my doorstep ever again. The fact remains that Tong and Phantam Fairtex are on my Scheißliste. If they would have only sold me the shares that they had instead of allowing Goth to steal them…

Gabriel Tuck: Didn’t they sell to a mystery buyer?

Armand von Krauss: That would be correct.

Gabriel Tuck: So with that buyer off the playing field and everyone else owning a pittance in shares, you can’t really go for majority ownership anymore.

Armand growls as he flicks ashes onto the desk.

Armand von Krauss: Yeah and I’m blaming the Fairtexes for my ambitions being unfulfilled. I’m going to leave them broken in the middle of the ring. The Board wants me to play by their schwache Regeln schwächen, but I will not. I will strike hard and strike fast. Their joints will tear, their bones will break, and they will bleed across the mat like modern artists. Frostbite will bring his, how do you Americans say it, his “A” game. The Fairtexes stand no chance.

Gabriel Tuck just sort of nods along to the tale being told, though he knows not a lick of German to know what exactly is being said. He sort of guesses from the context of what is being said though.

Gabriel Tuck: And should the Hired Killers get involved? The Fairtex wives?

Armand von Krauss: I don’t think that they will get involved in the match, but if you see them coming down to the ring...crush ‘em. Bring out Sir Monocle, Sticky, Hehehe, and Hahaha with you and crush their women underfoot. If they want to be in the match, they can all go to the same morgue.

Gabriel Tuck: You mean hospital?

Armand von Krauss: Yes. Hospital.

Gabriel Tuck: You know I’ve been wondering. Since Jonnie Valentine is the official Commissioner and they took away your, admittedly illegal, access to the company files, what are you doing on the computer?

Armand wrinkles his nose while looking at the computer.

Armand von Krauss: I’m looking for my Esmeralda. She is here tonight and she left the room over thirty minutes ago to get cigarettes out of the limo. I must wonder if she’s stalking Pequeno Dinosaurio again. I do not know what she sees in him.

Gabriel Tuck: I have a solution for that, you know.

Armand raises an eyebrow, putting his cigarette out on the desktop.

Armand von Krauss: Indeed? What is it?

Gabriel places his heavy revolver onto the desk with a smile.

Gabriel Tuck: Yep. A permanent solution.

Armand looks down at the gun as if considering it. He lights up a fresh Egyptian cigarette, blowing smoke at the gun with a smile.

Armand von Krauss: You have always been my favorite warrior, but no. We do not need to shoot him. Yet. I would wonder if you would care to send him a message for me. I want you to find him and bash him in the knee. Let him know that if I find him even thinking about MY Esmeralda, that you will bring his life to an end.

Gabriel Tuck: When you want this done? I’ll do it.

Armand von Krauss: I don’t care. Do it when he’s in the locker room with the others. Do it as he’s walking down the ring to his match. But make sure that it gets finished before his match so that he cannot fly. Osland can be the new champion.

Gabriel Tuck: I like it, boss. I’ll get to it right away.

Gabriel grabs his heavy revolver from the desk, puts it away, and rises up with a laugh.

Gabriel Tuck: And if his friends get in the way?

Armand von Krauss: Collateral damage doesn’t concern me…

Gabriel Tuck: Good to know.

As Gabriel Tuck leaves the room, Armand goes back to looking through his hacked security cameras, flitting from one view to the next.

Armand von Krauss: Where did you go?

[SWAT Team]

[We return to ringside with the four girls in the ring for their fatal four way match.]

Frank Salazar : Ladies and Gentlemen, the following contest is a fatal four way match, scheduled for ONE fall. Introducing first, hailing from Blackpool England, coming in at 5’6 & 125lbs. ‘The Blackpool Bombshell! BLAZE FREYA!!!!

Now introducing, hailing from Dublin Ireland, coming in at 5’5 & 130lbs. ‘Lucky’ Linda La Fey!!!!

Now introducing, accompanied by her manager, ‘The Only Star’ Eric Dane. She hails from New Orleans, LA and comes In at 5’3 & 150lbs. ‘The Suplex Siren’ GRAYSIE PARKER!!!!

And introducing their opponent, making her SWAT debut, she hails from Melbourne Australia, comes in at 5’7 & 120lbs …. LIZ IDOL!!!

Jeremy Tucker : Referee Vick Mackey calls for the bell and we are underway.

Andrew Fulton : What happened to their entrances?

Jeremy Tucker : After Yoon’s we are running short on time and had to cut them into the commercial.

Andrew Fulton : You go Jerry!

Jeremy Tucker : Graysie wastes no time and grabs Liz Idol and plants her with a big release German suplex. The Suplex Siren then sticks on Liz and delivers a belly to belly suplex.

Andrew Fulton : Blaze and Linda face off, and look at this, Blaze is offering Linda a handshake. She is looking good too Jerry.

Jeremy Tucker : Don’t do it Linda. Don’t …. Linda shakes her hand and Blaze nods with respect, then they begin to circle, nice sportsmanship from Freya.

Andrew Fulton : She is always thinking Jerry. Though she really does seem to respect Linda.

Jeremy Tucker : As she should, Linda is the heart and soul of SWAT and the Amazons. They hook up and Linda takes Blaze down with a Northern Lights Suplex. Blaze back to her feet and delivers a discuss clothesline. Liz fights back with an elbow to Graysie and then a spinning heel kick.

Andrew Fulton : Linda grabs Blaze and nails an exploder suplex.

Jeremy Tucker : Linda then grabs Graysie delivers a snap suplex.

Andrew Fulton : Linda giving a suplex lesson out there to the Suplex Siren.

Jeremy Tucker : Blaze delivers a spinning roundhouse kick to Liz which almost takes her head off.

Andrew Fulton : Graysie grabs Linda and nails a Butterfly Bomb (Butterfly Sitout Powerbomb). Dane slamming the mat in appreciation, cheering her on.

Jeremy Tucker : Blaze with a stunner on Liz and makes a cover for a two count, then Graysie breaks the count. Graysie then covers Liz for a two count and Blaze breaks the count.

Andrew Fulton : Linda back up and catches Graysie with the Roll of the Dice. Lucks in for Linda!

Jeremy Tucker : Cover by Linda for a two count on Graysie and Blaze breaks the count. Blaze then grabs Linda and executes a vertical suplex.

Andrew Fulton : Graysie with a Wrist-Clutch Fisherman’s Buster to Liz.

Jeremy Tucker : Linda back up and her and Blaze are duking it out, big hard strikes and chops, Blaze is grinning excitedly, she is enjoying this.

Andrew Fulton : Dane is yelling to Graysie to finish off Liz while they are distracted and she hooks Liz and hits the Los Tres Muhares (3 Rolling Gutwrench Suplexes)

Jeremy Tucker : After the third, as Graysie gets back to her feet, both Linda and Blaze together in Unison double superkick her. Wow!

Andrew Fulton : Liz gets to her feet groggily and slumps on Graysie going for the opportunist cover.

Jeremy Tucker : Linda and Blaze stare at her cherry picking their moves, then at each other and double elbow drop on Liz breaks the count at two.

Andrew Fulton : Linda and Blaze then both whip Liz to the ropes, double drop kick!

Jeremy Tucker : Graysie back up, double clothesline from Blaze and Linda! They are on a roll! Great chemistry. Linda high fives Blaze and then rolls her up in a small package for a two count that Blaze kicks out of.

Andrew Fulton : What a snake Linda is!

Jeremy Tucker : Blaze gets back to her feet and Linda tells her ‘this’ close. Blaze grins and then charges at Linda with the Torn (Gore) but Linda moves out of the way and Blaze runs thru Liz Idol!

Andrew Fulton : Graysie grabs Linda after she evaded the Torn and drills her with a devastating muscle buster.

Jeremy Tucker : Cover by Graysie and Blaze breaks it up at two.

Andrew Fulton : Blaze is hooked by Graysie but counters with the Pele kick! Go Blaze! Finish her!

Jeremy Tucker : Liz fights back and clobbers Blaze from behind with a big running knee to the back. Liz then drills Linda with a spinning heel kick.

Andrew Fulton : Graysie grabs Liz and Graysie Driver!!!! (Pumphandle Stuff Piledriver)

Jeremy Tucker : That’s gotta be it! Linda and Blaze back to their feet and collar elbow tie up, they are jockeying for advantage and neither can garner full control and in their tussle, they roll thru the ropes to the floor as Graysie has the cover on Liz

One …………………..

Two ……………………..

THREEEEE!!!!!!!!

Graysie did it! Got the pin on Liz Idol. Mackey calls for the bell and Linda and Blaze look up and see Graysie getting her arm raised. Dane slides in the ring and raises the other arm of Graysie proudly, and she gives him ‘the look’ still upset with him.

Andrew Fulton : Parker back on the winner’s ledger here in Memphis.

Jeremy Tucker : Linda nods her head to Graysie with respect and turns around and Blaze has her hand out stretched again for another hand shake.

Andrew Fulton : Get her Blaze!

Jeremy Tucker : Linda accepts the handshake and Blaze and her walk up the rampway talking like age old BFF’s.

[Dave D-Flipz]

*Death Trap sits alone in a locker room. He is looking down at his hands as he wraps them for his match. He is somber and deep in thought.*

"What does one do when one’s place is infested with all manner of vermin and parasites?"

*He glances up at the camera*

"You call the exterminator."

*He looks back down as he slowly wraps his hands.*

"I think deep down that’s what Radu was doing when he called me to help out Paul against the KGB and Society. Radu knew deep down the place he loved was once again overrun with parasitic monsters. And he knew he didn’t have enough left to take them down alone. So he called me knowing I would make this my fight after they made it personal. This was supposed to be a short stint, a few matches. A favor. Fun. But then Armand tried to hurt my friends for literally no gain on his part. Rally tried to end my career for shits and giggles. This whole place has become a mad power fantasy for the self-proclaimed upper class. To the point where they ACTUALLY HAVE the power and it isn’t enough for them. And so they step out of line and endanger the very house they sought to own."

*He pulls his hat off and sets it on the bench next to him as he then sits back against the lockers on his bench.*

"It’s the old mantra of getting the spiders out with a flamethrower. There is no tact or subtlety to these assholes. They say the silent part right out in the open and they make it known they will burn the whole place down for even a little gain. And they will do and use whoever and whatever they can to do it. There’s a perverse sense of pride in their actions. The problem is, to do what you all want to do … REQUIRES some subtlety. It requires care and caution. Because the fact is you DON’T own this place yet. And beyond that if you don’t think the Network or the fucking police will step in if you take it too far … well then keep doing what you’re doing. Armand … how WAS that stint in the gulag? To your liking I assume?"

*DT rocks back forwards and sets his hands tented in front of his face*

"It’s funny. Though the record may show I lost that match to Armand, we all know the truth. I was never incapacitated, nor strapped to the stretcher, as made evident when you tipped it over and left me to rot Joanne. Meanwhile Armand was incapacitated. I held up my end of the match. What’s funny is you think I care what the record book says. This was never about titles or records. I’m old enough, been around long enough, where any string of matches has little effect on my overall standings and my legend status. That’s kid games. I care about the health of the industry and the enjoyment of the fans. Because they are the lifeblood that gives you all this setting to ply your shenanigans. You all seem to forget that if the fans up and decide to abandon you, your little platform to cover your deeds goes away in a flash of gunsmoke."

*He places something on the bench next to him, we can’t make out what it is but it’s emitting a touch of smoke. And then he puts a box down. He looks at he camera*

"See here’s the thing you all don’t know about of me. I am actually very good … at finishing things I start. Sure the naysayers will say I like to choke when it matters, or have a history of injuries derailing me. But look DEEPER at my career and you will see every title I promised to win, I made good on. I keep my promises. And you’ll find in THIS run, my second life if you will, I’ve been remarkably good at taking anything you all can dish out and turning it back a hundred fold on you. Eichi Yamaguchi was my kryptonite … but I’ve now bested him three straight times and basically eliminated him from title pictures. Jason Justice embarrassed me in my first title reign … and I took it right back. Despite all Armand and Rally have thrown at me … here I sit … asking for more …"

*He puts his hat back on and pushes the brim down so it frames his eyes with shadow as he glares into the camera.*

"See Joanne you make a lot of assumptions about me. As if I’m some dumb child who can’t see the error of their ways, learn from their mistakes, or understand consequences. But there are two key facts to remember. Armand … came at me. He wanted the match in JROK, I had finished with you all and was happy to return to MCCW, my debts paid. But Armand couldn’t handle being the lesser man and had to turn this whole thing into some colossal dickwaving contest. And second … I make taking down factions my super power. You can try and act like I’m an idiot all you want but when it comes to fighting the power at a huge numbers disadvantage? I’m a savant. There are countless top factions who ran things until they decided to piss me off or pick a fight that now lay in the bowels of history. Barely remembered. No Joanne, the minute Armand made that challenge I knew what was in store for me if I said yes. Actually if I said no as well I have to guess since Armand doesn’t seem the type to take no easily."

*DT sits back again, more relaxed.*

"Quite frankly my dear, it isn’t I who underestimated him or you or the KGB. It’s you all who continue to underestimate both my abilities, and my drive to finish what I started. And when I am done, I will stand over Armand as he gasps for air after being choked the fuck out. I will look around me and see a gaggle of clowns bloody and unconscious on the mat. I’ll see you nursing your wounds and seething at me in the ring. I’ll see Mr. Tuck begging you for his life. I’ll see Frostbite on the ground crying to his phone about the belt he’ll never see again. And I’ll see Eric Dane stick his tail between his legs and go back to Canada where he might actually pass as a legend."

*DT laughs a bit*

"You all seem to have this image in your head of me as a gladhanding, smiling, goofball yes man. Someone to be derided and beaten down. Someone with no real gumption or passion. But what I am, is the vessel through with the fans can express their desires and love for this sport. What I am is the great white whale for a faction like yours … or the Society … or the ReVenants. When it comes to all these games of power and influence … I’m the godfather. I’m the man who stood on top of the industry 15 years ago, and again now. I am what younger wrestlers aspire to be. And I am a nightmare to controlling, egomaniacal, parasitic teams like yours Joanne. When it comes down to it, you may think you call the shots. You may think you have power. But I respect only one power in this industry. The fans who chant my name as I hand you all your asses. As it takes everything you have, numbers, sneak attacks, weapons, unwinnable situations … and I walk straight through the fire like some wraith out for your blood. Do I scare you? Probably not. Should you be afraid? That all depends on how far you wanna walk me down this path. You do not wanna push me into a blind corner and back my back against the wall. You may not like what you find happening. Something rather unexpected. And hey, if you are what you say you are then maybe my submissions won’t work. Maybe choking you out won’t show you how deadly serious I can be. In which case? I find another way to stake my claim, and take out the heart of the KGB."

*He smirks as he lets it sink in*

"But hey, I’m good at taking care of business when the time calls for it. I’m a good man at heart … but that doesn’t mean I don’t know what it takes to be a bad motherfucker. That doesn’t mean I ain’t MADE of something more. And I know how to get my way in the end. After all, what are we Italians without … family …? Miss Canelli, I think you need to reevaluate the people you trust. Because I’m going to tear them all down."

*DT smirks as he stands up and grabs a box. He opens it and sniffs deep. Fresh cannoli. He grabs and eats one as he walks away with the whole box, there on the bench is left a smoking gun (it’s a gun shaped lighter don’t worry). The symbolism isn’t lost on the cameraman*

[Justin]

Backstage, just past Gorilla, Eric Dane chases his charge down the hallway.

Eric Dane: Come on, Graysie, I gotta go right back out!

Graysie Parker: Sounds like your problem.

The Suplex Siren, fresh off of pinning Liz Idol, also defeating two former Amazon Champions in the process, does not seem to be in the mood for any of Eric Dane’s shit. He stops, looking back over his shoulder where producers and agents are pleading with him not to storm off after Graysie.

Eric Dane: Graysie! Goddammit!

The Iron Butterfly ignores him and continues off in the other direction. Dane is just about to turn back toward the entrance to the stage when Glamorous Glenda slides right up into his personal space like she belongs there.

Glamorous Glenda: I'm here with Eric Dane who’s just about to go one on one with “The Legend” Rayzor! Eric, can I get a word about Grays-

Eric Dane: You cannot.

Glamorous Glenda: What about the mat-

Eric Dane: Absolutely not!

Pestering persistent, Glenda perseveres!

Glamorous Glenda: Well then what can I-

The Only Star interrupts for a third time.

Eric Dane: Walk away, Glenda. You can walk away.

Realizing that real leaders lead by example, Eric Dane does just that.

He walks away.