Battleground #37 : Easter Explosion! (Show)

[SWAT Team]

[Cold open to the ring where we see ‘Nothin but a GM Thing’ Jonnie Valentine and very attractive young male in the ring. Jonnie has the mic and the young Adonis has a huge hessian bag in front of him in the ring.]

Jonnie Valentine : Welcome. Welcome to Jerusalem. Welcome to Battleground! Welcome to SWAT!!!

Jeremy Tucker : Oi! That’s MY line!

Andrew Fulton : Shhh Jerry. The Commiss is talking.

Jonnie Valentine : What a show it was last week in Texas. A brand NEW WORLD CHAMPION! Psychotic Goth. No one could be happier than I for that win last week, apart from maybe Goth himself.

But it was a much heralded victory and had the whole network was pleased for Goth’s big win. And how about that new belt we commissioned for him?

Jeremy Tucker : Look at that on the SWAT Tron. A prettier picture I have never seen.

Andrew Fulton : What about my sister on your wedding day? She is not going to be pleased to hear you think this way Jerry.

Jonnie Valentine : (Wincing at the voice over and Tuckers plight) Now, that is something isn’t it? But when we do something here at SWAT! We do it all the way! So, we didn’t stop at just ONE belt! Oh No! We got more belts! Belts for everyone!

[Jonnie motions to the male model and bag who preens then pulls out a brand new belt.]

The NEW SWAT AMAZONS BELT! Kid Dynamite Nicole Anderson! This is yours!

Isn’t he …I mean it … gorgeous?

Jeremy Tucker : He sure is.

Andrew Fulton : He? You and Jonnie can’t take ya eyes off the male model either one of ya!

Jeremy Tucker : It’s 2021. People are not recognised for their gender Andrew, we can appreciate another persons good looks without it being anything more.

Andrew Fulton : If you say so Jerry.

Jonnie Valentine : Who wants another belt. Come on cup cake. Show us the goodies.

[The model pulls out two new belts.]

KGB. Frostbite & von Krauss. Wear them with pride. If you have any that is.

Jeremy Tucker : They don’t.

Andrew Fulton : Are you out of your mind Jerry? They are the number one crew in town. We have more pride in our little pinky than Valentine has in his entire body.

Jonnie Valentine : Is that it? I’m sure there is some more in there. Where is Keith Williams new Universal Sin belt. Let’s give the people a look at that beauty.

Jeremy Tucker : Now that is something to behold.

Andrew Fulton : Frostbite might have some peeps taking his gimmick for loving belts soon if we keep having them come out like THIS!

Jonnie Valentine : Man, I may have to get ME a match with Keith for a shot at THAT! Last but not least, show us that TV Belt that now belongs to our new TV Champ Oxford Osland!

Jeremy Tucker : These new belts are amazing. Thanks to Jonnie for having them made and for Tom making them, he puts Reggie Parks in the dirt.

Jonnie Valentine : (to the male model) Thank you Stefan for the help. Folks, a hand for the lovely Stefan. Now, before we get todays show on the road, there is something more I need to address. There has been a viscous anti SWAT and Anti Jonnie movement breaking out on ‘the Twitter’. Well, my tech geeks in the back, they have found one of you loud mouths who want to scream online like some kind of hot shot, about how you hate us and don’t want nothing to do with us, but yet, our geeks have traced you to right here in Jerusalem! This is a holy place! I have one thing to say to you and all the other haters. If you don’t like it, don’t watch, Don’t come. Security! You know what to do.

[The shot pans thru the crowd and we see security grab an angry teen and escort him from the building.]

Make sure to give him his fifty bucks back, and kid, your SWAT Network! It’s just been CANCELLED! Cry about THAT online ya git!

[SWAT Team]

Jeremy Tucker : Well, how about that. Them new belts are incredible and throwing out the Twitter Trolls. Jonnie giving it back to the keyboard warriors! Making them accountable for their words.

Andrew Fulton : He will be held accountable by HR! He can’t do that.

Jeremy Tucker : He just did. What a show it was in Texas. Apart from Goth being the new champ we already mentioned, we also have a NEW TV Champ. Oxford Osland.

Andrew Fulton : ‘The Unbelievable’ Oxford Osland Jerry. He made short work of Pequeno.

Jeremy Tucker : The man was injured by Armand’s paid goon Gabriel Tuck prior to the match, it wasn’t fair and Vanessa did the right thing throwing in the towel. Live to fight another day.

Andrew Fulton : That’s what you cop when you mess with another man’s wife Jerry.

Jeremy Tucker : (Scoffs) SHE is messing with HIM! Tonight we have an action packed show! FOUR Championship matches. Goth defending against the man who defeated him in Memphis on his debut, Devon D’Andre!

Andrew Fulton : Can Devon do so again and become the new champ? Or will Goth turn the tables and establish himself as our new champion?

Jeremy Tucker : Keith Williams defending against both Death Trap AND Eric Dane!

Andrew Fulton : Three of the very best in the world. What a dream match.

Jeremy Tucker : Osland defending his new TV blet against The Legend Rayzor!

Andrew Fulton : Is he still allowed to call himself ‘The Legend’ after Dane won the battle of the Legends?

Jeremy Tucker : The KGB defending the tag straps against The Indian Assassins!

Andrew Fulton : That’s going to be brutal. Frostbite may well finish off what Rally started and cremate Rajiv altogether!

Jeremy Tucker : Also! We have Rios and Canelli meeting up! What a battle that will be!

Andrew Fulton : ‘The Don’ will send Rios packing back to Canada Jerry! Mark my words!

Jeremy Tucker : Blaze and Eddie D are going to get it on!

Andrew Fulton : Lucky Eddie! I never thought I would envy him, but the thought of getting it on with Blaze! I hope there is another spanking!

Jeremy Tucker : ‘The Golden God’ and ‘The Founder’ Suit are going to duke it out!

Andrew Fulton : Suit should have let the prank on the phone go, hell, he shoulda gone to the motel room with Rally and the girls.

Jeremy Tucker : All that plus The Hellhounds! Union Jack! Pequeno! Team Fairtex AND The Hired Killers! HYNDRXX! Yoon! Lucky Linda and more all in action here tonight in Jerusalem for Easter Explosion! We will be right back with some words from our wrestlers, THEN it’s the KGB defending the tag belts against The Indian Assassins!

Andrew Fulton : (pulls out a marshmellow and skews it on the tip of a rod) Fire up the bonfire Jerry! Indian Marshmellows for dinner tonight!

[Union Jack]

The Meeting AFTER The Meeting

We cut backstage to the cluttered halls of the Pais Arena, Jerusalem, where 'The Bad Influence Bear' Union Jack and Pequeño Dinosaurio are walking in tandem, talking amongst themselves. Dinosaurio wears a heavy knee brace on his right leg, and walks with a pronounced limp as a result of last weeks cowardly attack.

“Oso, what happened last week... it cannot happen again.” Dinosaurio speaks in a grave, serious tone.

“Don't you think I know that, Lad?” Jack shakes his head, reflecting on the shame he endured at Battleground. “Mate, I'm just human and made a mistake! It was a misunderstanding is all.”

“Vanessa was really angry!” Dino puts emphasis on the words in an attempt to convey the seriousness of the issue to his friend. “If it wasn't for... What happened... in my match, I'm not sure I could have convinced her to take this meeting again.”

“SHE was angry?! How do you think I felt? Especially when that bloody sock fell off!” The contradiction of Jack's ridiculous words and his dead serious tone causes Dino to snort laughter, which in turn makes Jack grin. “I'm just glad she managed to get the video pulled before it went to air!”

“I would be too.” Dinosaurio laughs. “It wasn't the most flattering of camera angles.”

“Hey, I'll have you know it was cold in there!” Jack insists. “And I thought it was just going to be me and her...”

“Ok, enough.” Pequeño manages through laughter as he slows to a stop. He points toward a door just in front of them. “Vanessa is in there. Jack, please... Take this seriously.”

Jack nods his head, walks toward the door, knocks cautiously, pauses for a moment and enters the room without invitation. Once inside, we see Vanessa Martinez seated behind a large table, revealing the room to be one of the previously unclaimed conference suites situated throughout the arena. She smiles awkwardly and raises to her feet.

“Hello Jack.” She holds out a hand, shakes his and gestures to the seat across from her. “Please, have a seat.”

Jack smiles and moves to the other side of the table from where he sits.

“Thanks for agreeing to meet me... again” Jack voice is not lined with his usual gusto and sounds unusually sincere. “I just wanted to apologize for what happened last week...”

“There really is no need” Vanessa gestures with a wave of the hand, trying to dismiss the subject entirely.

“There is.” Jack stubbornly insists. “When Dino said you wanted to talk, I just assumed that...”

“Please, let's just forget it” Vanessa tries again.

“You'd finally come around to the idea of...” Jack continues.

“Jack...” Desperation start's to creep into Vanessa's voice.

“...Ya know...” Jack cautiously alludes to his point, showing a rare moment of restraint.

“...Lets just...” The look in Vanessa's eyes start's to plead as desperately as the tone of her voice.

“And I know, I know, there's this kinda will they, wont they between you and Dino...”

“... Sorry, what?...” Vanessa suddenly interrupts.

“So I probably shouldn’t have even tried. After all, he's like my brother from a different mother...”

“I assure you, there is nothing between Dinosaurio and I” Vanessa insisted, despite Jack having already moved on.

“But I kinda figured, different was the key word, ya know?” Jack reasons hopefully.

“Excuse me?!” Vanessa's tone is suddenly cautious.

“And that, well... we may as well have a pussy in common, Ya know?” Jack shrugged.

Vanessa's jaw drops in stunned silence. Meanwhile, Jack continues to stare at her, the almost hopeful grin he wears frozen to his face as he waits for a response. The silence between them starts to become prolonged... Realizing Jack isn't going to be the one to break it, Vanessa finally speaks “I... I can't believe you just said that.”

“That wasn't an offer or nothing!” Jack insists, waving his hands before him in frantic fashion. “I've taken my swing and don’t make a habit of getting' knocked back two weeks in a row, I was just explaining the thought process is all! I get it; like a nun at Lent, you're closed for business!”

“Jack!” Vanessa is stunned again. “Can we please just talk business and try to keep this professional?”

“Sure thing!” Jack smiles and reclines in his chair, satisfied. He lets out a small laugh and continues. “I'm glad we got that sorted! Can you believe Dino was worried about this meeting?!”

Vanessa leans forward with a sigh, in a pretense of needing to study the paperwork before her while massaging her temples and muttering to herself. “I wish I hadn't already told my father I had a new signing.”

“What was that?” Jack asks leaning closer in an attempt to hear her.

“Nothing.” Vanessa insists before shuffling the papers, then staring across the table to Jack. “First point, I think we should start by me officially congratulating you on your win last week. You were impressive.”

“Aw it was nothing.” Jack waves a hand, jokingly feigning flattery. “Quite literally. The guy was a joke, he really shouldn’t have been in the ring.”

“That was going to be my second point.” Vanessa smiles lightly at Jack's sudden shock. “Your performance was impressive, as was your ability to somehow bring the crowd to your side. But your opponent was truly lacking... Which is something you wont be able to say about tonight's offering. HNDRXX presented a significant challenge when he faced Dinosaurio. It's a shame we were unable to have this meeting last week, I would have liked to ensure you had properly prepared for tonight's encounter.”

“Hendricks is a Bitch.” Jack said with a confident smirk.

“Yes. I saw you're declaration of that 'fact' last week.” Vanessa shakes her head disapprovingly “As did he... Which I'm sure he will be sufficiently motivated by when you meet him tonight.”

“I'm not afraid of him” Jack insists while snorting laughter.

“That's good. A lack of fear is almost a requirement in this industry.” Vanessa pauses with a melancholy smile. “A lack of caution however, is shortsighted and can be extremely dangerous... as we saw last week... with Dinosaurio.”

“Those KGB Cunt's!” Jack growled. “They'll get what's coming to 'em. Dino should'a snaked the old Goat's drain just to show that self righteous prick he could!”

Whether at the imagery or the language, Vanessa grimaced. “Somehow, I doubt that would have helped the situation.”

“Yea... maybe.” Jack reluctantly agreed. “But at least the Lad might have felt a little better about the whole deal.”

“Perhaps.” Vanessa said almost dismissively, clearly uncomfortable with the topic of conversation. “Tell me Jack, have you ever heard the phrase 'like a bull in a china shop'?...” Vanessa's question elicited a nod from Jack. “...I feel it describes you quite accurately.”

“I'm no Bull, but let me assure you 'Nessa...” Jack grins confidently. “A Bear is plenty capable of fucking up a China shop!”

“That wasn't quite the point I was trying to make.” Vanessa sighed, shook her head in defeat and lifted a sheath of paper from the table in front of her. After a moment or two of studying them, she lay the papers back on the wooden surface and looked over at Jack. “Jack... I want to be clear with you. Should you sign this contract I will be your agent, not your manager... nor your babysitter. I do not wish to spend my career cleaning up your messes.” Reluctantly, Vanessa slid the contract across the table. “I will ensure any deal presented to you is the best it can possibly be, both in terms of financial gain and potential career progression, I will maximize your media presence to raise your overall marketability, and to a greater or lesser degree, I will either manage or advise your social media activity to – frankly - reduce the risk of issues caused by your unique style.”

“Sounds good to me, Sweetheart.” Jack grinned, picked up a pen and signed where the handy post-it tabs Vanessa had placed prompted him too. After a moment or two, he slid the papers back across to his newly signed 'Representative'. Vanessa studied the signatures momentarily and sighed.

“In my first act as your agent, I strongly recommend that in future you read any contract which might be presented to you. Even if they come from me.” Vanessa places the contract into a manila folder, closes it just so, and moves the document to her briefcase. “Secondly, I will arrange an interview for you later this evening ahead of your match. I suggest you approach it with a level of professionalism you have not yet displayed here in SWAT. However, should you insist on being yourself, please at least try to remain on the subject of tonight's match and resist the urge to opine on our situation with the KGB, or your tensions with our new World Champion. Let's try to ensure we only have to deal with one fire at a time.”

“Sure thing!” Jack proclaims as he raises to his feet and reaches to shake Vanessa's hand.

“Oh and, one more thing?” Vanessa holds Jack's hand firmly and locks her eyes to his. “Let's try to avoid the 'C' word, shall we? The American market is a little less accepting of such vulgarities than you may be used too.”

“Ah, I think I'll get away with it.” Jack shrugs and heads toward the door. “It’s practically a term of endearment.”

Vanessa's head drops to be cradled into her hand as she sits alone, wondering what she has let herself in for.

[SWAT Team]

[We see a yellow taxi driving the streets of Jerusalem. Rajiv Khan is driving, his cousin The Indian Prince Mohammad beside him in the front and in the back The Buffalo Solder Benjamin ‘Been Jamin’ Bolt.]

Rajiv Khan : (guttural Indian accent) This is it cousin. Our big chance! The SWAT Tag Team Championships! We win this one and it’s all turned around.

Mohammad Khan : (educated English Indian accent like a Terrorist from 24) They are not so tough them KGB Bandits. Are you sure you know where you are going cousin? These streets of Jerusalem look very confusing.

Benjamin Bolt : (Jamaican Rastafarian accent) I swear mon’, we passed the arena 15 minutes ago.

Rajiv Khan : Yes yes, I know where we are. Almost there.

Mohammad Khan : So Benjamin, you have a match with Kaupena Yoon this week?

Benjamin Bolt : Eye mon’. The Hawaiian fella is thinking he is takin our spot mon’, not on my watch. The Buffalo Soldier is going all the way to the top mon’ and Yoon is the first stop on the way.

Rajiv Khan : I tell you guys. The KGB used to bully me and ridicule me, but not anymore. Now with my blood on my team we will take it to them and we will be the Champions.

Mohammad Khan : We were the champions already in India before you left for that cursed land of the States. I was a Prince! You were a banker! Now you drive cabs to make ends meat and get beaten show after show.

Rajiv Khan : You have to start at the bottom again and build your way up, there is no privilege here cousin. We must earn our own way thru our trials and tribulations.

Mohammad Khan : It’s a crock Raj. We are clearly superior in every way. Who else rides a Elephant to the ring? Who else takes 3rd degree burns over their entire body for the fed? It better be our time soon, I have had enough of this rough shod treatment.

Benjamin Bolt : Easy mon’. What will be will be. You two should be more concerned with Frostbite and his obsession with fire. He wants to burn the whole fed down you know, he tried to kill Texas Pete last show, in his own home town mon’.

Rajiv Khan : (at hearing about the fires just freezes, the lights turn green and he doesn’t move, until he is tooted and snaps out of it) This is too much. We shouldn’t have to work with him. (clearly now terrified) I don’t know if this is a good idea cousin.

Mohammad Khan : What happened to paying our dues and working our way up?

Rajiv Khan : Not at the expense of our lives! Pete has a family. He may never work again.

Mohammad Khan : Maybe we should set HIM on fire? Frostbite that is! Bring the heat to him and some of his own medicine.

Benjamin Bolt : That’s the spirit Ey. Me, I gonna be shucking and jiving and I am going to show the whole world and Jerusalem what The Buffalo Soldier can deliver. I am going to go Holy on Yoons ass!

[We see the arena and Rajiv breaks out in a sweat, still thinking of Texas Pete being burned by Frostbite and Rally setting him on fire just as he was being repacked as they slowly pull up towards their impending fate.]

[vastrix]

Backstage, at a conference room turned into a dressing room, Armand von Krauss sits behind a desk. He’s in his ring gear, ready for his tag title defense as the opening match.

There is a knock at the door and Gabriel Tuck walks into the room.

Gabriel Tuck: You wanted to see me, boss?

Armand von Krauss: I do. I wanted to heap praise where praise is due. You did well in sending a message to Pequeno Dinosaurio.

Armand reaches into a drawer, pulling out an envelope full of cash. He slides it across the desk with a smile.

Armand von Krauss: This is for you. You’ve earned it.

Gabriel walks across the room and picks up the envelope, hefting it with a grin before putting it into a pocket.

Gabriel Tuck: We’ve come a long way from tossing me off a bridge.

Armand gives a predatory smile, lighting himself an Egyptian cigarette.

Armand von Krauss: Continue to prove to be invaluable and we will not have that problem again.

Gabriel Tuck: So, you’re ready to take down Rajiv and Mohammad Khan?

Armand dismisses Gabriel with a wave.

Armand von Krauss: I’m already beyond them in my mind and am working toward the Rumble next month. I will have that X*Crown.

Gabriel Tuck: I wouldn’t sleep on the Assassins. They could surprise you like Goth did Rally.

Armand glares at Gabriel for a long time before flicking ashes onto the desk.

Armand von Krauss: You make a good point. I’ll make an example of the assassins. Maybe let Frostbite put one of them through a burning table. Whatever it takes to show the world that the KGB are to be feared.

Gabriel Tuck: Sounds like a plan. You need me to do anything, boss?

Armand von Krauss: I would say keep Esmeralda in check, but she would kill you if you tried. No, nothing for now. I’ll summon you if I have need of your services. Thank you.

Gabriel Tuck: Alright. I’m going to go raid the beer vendors for me and the boys. Later.

Armand watches as Gabriel leaves the room and turns to the camera that he knows is in the room.

Armand von Krauss: Rajiv, Mohammad. I know you fellows are coming into this and thinking that it’s going to be an honest competition for the tag team titles. But, let’s be honest with ourselves. We’re the opening match. You’re meant as a bit of exercise for myself and Frostbite before we get into the meat of the show. Before we get into whatever nefarious plans that we feel we must put into play before the end of the show. You two will just be a speed bump, barely noticed by the tank that is the KGB.

Also, Pequeno Dinosaurio. I’m sorry that it came to Gabriel having to talk with you about your fraternizing with my wife, but you must understand something. Esmeralda is my wife. MY wife. I will not allow anyone to do what you did with her without some kind of retribution. Do not talk to her again or the retribution to come will be most severe.

[frostbite]

Back in the locker room..

As our cameras crew pushes open the brown door leading into this particular locker room, as you know most locker rooms have a foul odor from well smelly men or women that take up residence in it until there matches. Ah but for once this place has a smell of lavender, another thing that catches us off guard is that instead of the concerte flooring we see red carpetimg throughout the locker room. We move throughout the room, we see a nice black leather right in the middle of the locker room. Even a brown table as there are some books right smack in the middle, even some of the great legendary novels such as Moby Dick and Catcher in the Rye. Our camera crew catch someone sitting on the sofa wearing red and black tights as they have the initials KGB going up and down each pant leg, whoever it is they reach down to lace up their all black boots with the same initials written on it.. KGB.

As our cameras move upward we see this person has on an all red tee shirt but this time the same initials written in black letters, KGB. This person short blonde hair is well glowing if you want to say that because as we look upward we see well looks as if someone has hung a Chandelier right over the sofa.

Crowd.. BOOOOOOOOOOOO.......

We see that it is Frostbite. He reaches over to the arm of the sofa as he grabs the newly made one half of the tag team title.

Frostbite.. I guess Johnnie thinks he is really something making new titles for all the champions in the company.

He turns around looking over his left shoulder.

Frostbite.. You believe that my love. Johnnie says maybe we bring some honor to these straps. What in the hell is he talking about? The KGB knows nothing but honor. Maybe I should burn Johnnie office to the ground and show him what respect is all about.

It appears Frostbite is talking to somebody. He gets up as he places the tag team title on the table. He wait a behind the sofa and as we see a few feet away we see a brown leather chair, as Frostbite stands right in front of it, he looks down as we see his cell phone right in the middle but something is a little different from the previous images. As we zoom in we see Frostbite must have already taken a new pic of the SWAT World title that was presented to the new champion Psychotic Goth by Johnnie earlier. Frostbite just stands there looking at his phone.

Frostbite.. You know my love. I can not believe what I am about to say but, you are more beautiful than ever. I simply like what you done with your hair it looks great.

Certainly the title does not have any hair but it is Frostbite mind set.

Frostbite.. You look better than ever. I am such a lucky man that you would change the way you look for me. You are such a tease.

He looks back at his tag team title.

Frostbite.. Can I take a seat next to you my boo. We have got to Talk?

He picks up his phone as he grabs a seat, as he holds places the phone in his lap, as he looks down at it.

Frostbite.. I hope you like my accomandations for you my love. I bought the chair from the state's for you to help you relax, and added the extra light for you, and even had some books shipped to you. I know how you like to read on those long flights. I hope this pleases you love.

He picks up his phone.

Frostbite.. But we must talk love. I am upset with you dear. You have jumped into another man's arms. I just do not understand you. If you are playing hard to get, then you are doing a great job. Now Goth has you. What do you see in him? You believe he will give you something that I can not give you. He is like all the rest dear. I want you to look around?

He picks up the phone to show the extra lights and sofa and the books.

Frostbite.. Do you really believe Goth or any other man would do this for You? This is not cheap to get these things bought over here my love.

He stops himself before he says something that he might regret.

Frostbite.. You know my love, I would spend my last dime if he gets us together. I have made enough money in this sport over the years, but I need to know my love. Do you really cars for me?

He places the phone right next to him. He turns his head as if the phone is really saying something to him.

Frostbite.. I just do not understand you love. You are jumping into another man's arms, and on top of that he has a woman. And she is not someone you want to mess around with. Do not believe she will get jealous of the two of you together. But then maybe, you are into that type of stuff, you know threesome type of relationship.

He shakes his head.

Frostbite.. Honey, I am not that kind of man. I would never share you with anybody. You are my true love, you are the only woman, I will ever care about. But then again maybe you have a thing for the Goth lifestyle? I just do not know love. Do I need to get into that lifestyle to you to realize that I love you.

He stands up.

Frostbite.. I am starting to really believe that you do not love me. Maybe I should end this relationship.

He looks over at the tag team title.

Frostbite.. At least she shows me some respect.

He is about to walk away, but he stops in his tracks as if his phone is saying something to him once again. He quickly spins around.

Frostbite.. So we are getting to the root of the problem are we? You are the one that is jealous. You can not stand the fact that I have her and not you. Do you see me buying her a bunch of gifts. No you do not. Have I taken her to the beach, and have a nice picnic with her. No, I have not. How many times must I prove my undying love for you. I have burn a car, a man for you and it does not seem to get your attention. I told you time and time again. I will give you the entire world just come with me. Nobody will ever treat you better than I will.

Frostbite drops to his knees as if he is begging to the phone.

Frostbite.. Please do not ever be envy for her.

He points to the tag title.

Frostbite.. He will never compare my love for you. Please my heart hurts so much, ever single day we are apart from each other. Please, I will do anything in this world to show you how much I really care. What do you want my love. Do you want an engagement ring to show that we should be together forever? Do you want a nice home? Do you want a nice car? Just tell me, my love and I will do it. Please, I can not keep going on like this. You need to show me something my love. Show me that you really love me. Send me some type of sign.

Frostbite gets up off the floor as he grabs his phone and walks over to the sofa as he takes a seat, with phone right next to him.

Frostbite.. Unless my love you are into threesome, I can change my ways. But my love, we have business that needs to be taken care of very shortly. Armand and I, defend our belts against Rajiv Khan and Mohammad Khan or as they might like to be called the Indian Assassins. Now it appears that I might have ruffle some feathers. From what I can tell you, that you were friends of Texas Pete.

He stops as he looks over to his phone as if it is say something.

Frostbite.. I do not think it would be a great idea to send the man some flowers after I just burned him alive. I was trying my love to teach the locker room not to disrespect its queen.

He turns his attention back to the camera.

Frostbite.. Gentlemen, I would tread lightly if I were you, because I will have no problem at al, burning you both to the ground, cremation sounds like a fine idea. I do not think I could pull off such a feat. But trust me there if I could i would.

He stops again as if the phone is saying something to him once again.

Frostbite.. That is a hell of an idea.

He once again turns his attention back to the camera.

Frostbite.. Maybe we can do a cremation after all. What about myself and Armand beat the row if you to a bloody pulp and then I can shove your asses into the taxi that you love so much, and then set that on fire with you in it. How would you like That? Because I can make it happen. You do not like that idea. Since we are in such a holy place. Why not pin your asses to a damn cross and then set you on fire that way. Sounds way better.

He drops his head.

Frostbite.. But if I do that I would have ever religious group after my ass for doing so. Option number one it is. You want revenge for Texas Pete, them by all means give it your best shot. Get revenge because he has a family. But you need to ask yourself this..

Who in the hell is going to save the two of You?

Who is going to pay your medical bills?

Maybe SWAT can set up one of those what do they call it a Go me funds I believe that is what it is. Because you two do not any parts of the KGB and especially me. I keep telling everybody in the locker room and even management this will continue until.

He reaches over as he picks up the phone as he puts it toward the camera.

Frostbite.. Until we are finally together. That is all you have to do, but you idiots love to do things the hard way. Not only myself and Armand are going to hold onto those tag team titles, but rest assure one of you or maybe both of you are going to be set on fire.

He reaches over onto the table as he finds a lighter. He picks it up as he flicks it on.

Frostbite.. BURN, BABY BURN.

He gets up off the sofa grabbing his phone and the tag team strap as he walks away with a sadistic laugh heard off in the distance as we fade out.

[eddied]

(Eddie is sat playing with a pen at a SWAT socially distanced meet and greet. The tour has reached New York and the conference hall is huge and echo filled. Some of the SWAT stars are signing posters, live event programs and DVD covers for the collected fans. It feels slightly less exciting as pre-covid events, but the fans understand there will be no hugs and selfies this time and enjoy what they can get. Blaze Freya is sat at a table 20 feet away from Eddie’s and security look anxious about the negative energy between them in the room. Blaze is staring at Eddie in a hateful way as she waywardly signs autographs and throws the pics back at the kids queuing up.)

SWAT FAN: Hey Eddie, I’m over here?

EDDIE: What?

SWAT FAN: I have programs for you to sign. Stop staring at your girlfriend and give the paying public some attention. Let’s hurry it along.

EDDIE: You’ll ask me politely or I’ll smack that smirk off your punk face.

SWAT FAN: Drop the hard man act and sign OK? You’re not on Battleground now.

EDDIE: This isn’t an act; I am always annoyed in the presence of entitled pricks like you. Why are there three programs?

SWAT FAN: I need you to sign three.

EDDIE: No. My signature has actually become worth something over the last year. I am THE Big Deal around here. It’s not a catchphrase it’s a fact. You can have one program for your own collection and if I find out you stuck it on eBay I will make sure you get banned from every SWAT event I’m at Capisce?

SWAT FAN: This is a crock. Syberus signed three programs last time I was here and didn’t have an issue with it.

EDDIE: I doubt that was Syberus. He’s English, so he’s twice as cheap and three times as thrifty as I am. That was probably a Dolph Ziggler look alike willing to sign anything for an extra dollar.

SWAT FAN: I’ll give you an extra $5?

EDDIE: Now you’re getting it. Sold to the man with the jeans halfway to his knees. Pull up your pants, put your baseball cap on backwards like a proper hoodlum and do up your fucking laces.

(Eddie takes the money, signs the 2nd and 3rd program stupidly fast so no one could tell if it’s his signature or not and Eddie nods to security to get the annoyed fan to move on to the next table before he can protest. Eddie can feel the eyes of Blaze Freya burning into him again and it is putting him off, to the point where he halts his short line and crosses over towards her signature table. Blaze sees him coming; Blaze Freya’s chair scrapes out behind her across the hard wood floor as she stands up abruptly with her fists clenched.)

EDDIE: Hey, take it easy wildcat. I was just coming over to clear the air.

BLAZE: Well, you’d better clear it real fast, fella. Because it began stinking of sweat n’ piss just as soon as your bulky ass came stomping over.

EDDIE: I know you saw my promos for the last event. I know you saw I was shocked not to face you in the ring in Texas. I was hoping we could have a fair fight, then win or lose, you could hopefully put my actions in that ill-fated tag match behind us…

BLAZE: I was hoping for the same, honestly. But regardless if I kick your ass once with your team, once without em n’ whatever else we do, it isn’t gonna change the fact that I HATE the KGB and will stop at NOTHING to bury my size ten boot in every ass that dares to bare the mark of the ‘B!

EDDIE: And I understand that, I am sure you’re due an apology too. I appreciate that a generic “I’m sorry” won’t cut the mustard, but I don’t want to get too graphic and specific in front of these kids…

BLAZE: So, it’s OK to slap me half naked on TV for all the world to see, but not OK to say sorry about it in front of a few fans?

(There’s some awkwardness in the queue. A mother covers her little son’s ears and a few teenager boys laugh at the word “naked” being said and their recollection of the infamous tag match just weeks ago.)

EDDIE: You’re right. I don’t know why I care what these fans think. They’ve never shown me any respect anyway. You’re queued up around the block. I have seen about a dozen KGB fans.

BLAZE: Am I meant to cry for you because the fans don’t care about you? “Boo hoo, I’m the unlovable jerk who just wants to be loved!” Fuck you! I oughtta…

(A little 8-year-old boy gets loose from the queue and tugs on Eddie’s leather coat tails. Security are annoyed about the social distancing breech and rush over to correct things, but Eddie puts up a big hand to put them off.)

JIMMY: I care.

EDDIE: What kid?

JIMMY: I care. I sneak up and watch the TV when you’re on Eddie. You’re my hero.

EDDIE: You’re what when? Hero? What’s your name kid?

JIMMY: Jimmy.

EDDIE: Well Jimmy. You saw me slap that pretty lady on her behind the other week, right?

JIMMY: Yep.

EDDIE: And do you think that’s something a hero should do?

JIMMY: Nope.

EDDIE: Then, why am I your hero?

JIMMY: Because you hit people really hard, because I hope to be big and tough like you one day and… and deep down you’re a good guy.

EDDIE: Look you’re a kid, you don’t know me, you don’t know adults and you don’t know a hero when you see one. What on earth makes you think that I’m a good guy, deep down or otherwise?

JIMMY: You wanted to say sorry to this lady? That’s a nice thing to do.

EDDIE: No, I didn’t. I just didn’t want this harpy blazing two holes in the side of my head with those toxic looks all afternoon.

JIMMY: Nah, you wanted to say sorry, I could tell.

EDDIE: Even if that was true, it doesn’t make me heroic.

JIMMY: You won the rumble. That’s my favorite event of the year.

EDDIE: I did that for me. I wanted the winner’s purse and I want my hands on that SWAT World title shot. Not to be a hero.

JIMMY: My dad loves you.

EDDIE: Why’s your dad love me?

JIMMY: He remembers you from the EIWF where you were called The Good Guy Eddie D.

EDDIE: Well that was an ironic name and that was 20 years ago.

JIMMY: He still thinks you and Davie J were the best tag team ever and when my mum’s out he still plays me wrestling tapes of when you won the tag belts for the last time…

EDDIE: Look kid. I ain’t no hero, you are the only kid who’s shown me the slightest bit of respect in SWAT and your dad is living in the past. I am looking to the future. I might have been called a good guy once, but that feels like a lifetime ago. The week before last I took advantage of that lady’s costume malfunction and slapped her pussy. Heroes don’t do that now do they?!

(Eddie has been raising his voice. The little boy wells up slightly and looks up concerned into Eddie’s eyes.)

JIMMY: You hit her pussy cat?

EDDIE: No, her lady parts.

JIMMY: Oh, her cunt?

EDDIE: Woe… Ombre, where’d you learn a word like that?

JIMMY: I’m from Jersey mister. It’s the first swear word my big brother taught me. I haven’t looked back.

EDDIE: I think I like you. Can I autograph something for you Jersey Jimmy?

(Jimmy looks delighted as Eddie goes to leave Blaze standing angry and frustrated at her signing table to head back to his own.)

BLAZE: Hey!!! Fuck you, you little CUNT! Bugger off before I stuff you up the big hairy man’s ass! Speaking of which, big hairy man!? What about my apology!?

EDDIE: I’ll do you one better than an apology Blaze. I’ll make you a proposition.

We’ve finally been given our match at Easter Explosion.

If I beat you, you’ve gotta take that as an end to the hate you hold for my actions in that tag match, regardless of your hate for all things KGB, you give me personally a clean slate.

BLAZE: Hate can’t just be turned off like a tap.

EDDIE: Why not force it?

BLAZE: OK… Hate can’t just be turned off like a faucet.

EDDIE: No, I meant ‘Why not F-O-R-C-E it’?

BLAZE: “wHy nOt fOoOorCe iT” … And besides, what about when I win?

EDDIE: I will drop my wrestling trunks around my ankles in the middle of the ring and give you one free shot at my family jewels. Kick, slap, uppercut, the choice is yours. How’s that for fairs fair?

BLAZE: Horseshit! You’d never do that.

EDDIE: My word is my bond.

JIMMY: That’s heroic.

EDDIE: Shut up Jimmy. No one asked you. Grownups are talking now.

BLAZE: And why does a clean slate with me mean anything to you? Why’s it worth risking a shot in the nuts and voluntary public nudity in front of a live TV audience? I’m still learning how you n’ the others get down around here, but from where I’m from, that’s a crime.

EDDIE: If you ever give me that clean slate maybe you’ll find out.

BLAZE: …

EDDIE: Well, no rush, you can let me know before the show. We won’t be in Jerusalem for a few days yet. Come on Jimmy I think I have an old program from an EIWF Doomsday from the 90’s your dad will be happy to have.

JIMMY: That would be awesome Eddie. Thanks.

EDDIE: You’ve got $10 bucks right?

JIMMY: You charged the spotty badly dressed kid $5.

EDDIE: Jimmy, You’re my hero today. But seriously this program is a piece of wrestling history so cough up $10 or dad’s gonna hate you and give you up for adoption.

(Blaze Freya tries to throw herself into her signature work, but she looks distracted as the scene fades to black.)

[Tetsuo Kijada]

Andrew Fulton: So what have we got to look forward next on this Easter spectacular?

Jeremy Tucker: I think looking at my sheet we have word from the Night Marcher himself, Kaupena Yoon.

Andrew Fulton: Maybe he’ll tell us the meaning behind that moniker of his.

Jeremy Tucker: His debut was spectacular last show especially that move when he landed in the middle of the ring like some superhero.

Andrew Fulton: Well here we go.

The camera panned up and stopped upon an exquisite and expensive looking hotel penthouse suite. There is a 70 inch television blaring away on the far wall tuned into CNN showing what is going on around the United States in this historic time.

Stood watching it was the latest signing to present himself to SWAT was none other than the Hawaiian Sensation himself, Kaupena Yoon.

Kaupena was dressed in a sharp suit with a hint of Latin style and understated jewellery as he strode back and forth in a fury, gesticulating wildly with a silver-headed cane and nearly knocking any number of objects off the suite’s mantelpiece in the process. The only thing that seemed to be out of place was that he was also wearing his luchador style mask.

He picked up a thick crystal tumbler and looked at the liquid before he sipped it. The liquor made its way down his throat, tentacles of warmth, circulating through his belly and entering his system.

Kaupena Yoon: The company has tried to make sure that their latest signing is taken care of here in SWAT. They have had him set up in a very nice suite at the Four Seasons here as they know that they need to keep the Night Marcher on side as they know that he is the greatest talent that this company has ever had within its ranks.

He looked at the television screen. When he spoke his Hawaiian accent was barely audible due to his travelling around the world all these years.

Kaupena Yoon: Did anyone see my debut last show? Did you see how the Night Marcher destroyed the wrestler that the company threw at me for my showcase? If you look at YouTube and other Social Media sites the clip of Kaupena Yoon’s high flying skills were watched so many times that they crashed.

Slowly he turned back towards the camera.

Kaupena Yoon: But that was last show and this show the Night Marcher gets to showcase his skills against another talent in this company that isn’t even in my league. Benjamin Bolt? Another enhancement talent enters the squared circle with me that I get to showcase to the world how he compares to a really talented wrestler.

A smirk crossed his lips for a split second before it snapped back to the emotionless face behind his mask that he had started with.

Kaupena Yoon: Benjamin? Do you really think that you are in the same league as the Night Marcher?

Kaupena turned the cane in his hands as his thoughts were orally conversed.

Kaupena Yoon: Benjamin? Do you think you can last for more than thirty seconds with someone of my obvious talents? I am not only the best masked wrestler in this company but I am THE premium talent in professional wrestling brah! I had the chance to go anywhere in the world. All the wrestling promotions came knocking when Hawaii State Wrestling went out of business. They all wanted the hSw Innovation Division Champion as their latest signing but I decided with the rest of the group known as the Night Marchers to come to SWAT.

Mentally he sighed as he continued on his thought process.

Kaupena Yoon: This company seems to be where it is at the moment as it has evolved since the likes of Hell’s Bouncer were the symbol of this place. Now you can see the likes of Kaupena Yoon, Union Jack or even that little bouncing dinosaur slash human hybrid from Mexico show casing what real wrestling is all about. Maybe one day you could see a match between Kaupena and either of those other two, now that would be epic.

There was a flash of emotion on the part of his face that was visible, a micro-expression crossed his face.

Kaupena Yoon: Benjamin, I will show you what it is to be in the ring with a great talent. I will show the world why I am the greatest talent in this company, PERIOD! Now go.

He picked up the suite’s phone and looked it over. Kaupena placed the phone to his ear and made a noncommittal noise when the concierge answered.

Jeremy Tucker: Ladies, gentlemen and those that have yet to decide, mark this time, remember where you were when you switch on your laptops, get onto your face book, twitter or whatever social network you are on and say that you saw when Kaupena Yoon put it out there that he is going to be the biggest talent our company has ever seen before.

Andrew Fulton: I know Jeremy; Shit just got real.

Jeremy Tucker: I know right. I just want to see him do that Super Hero landing again.

Andrew Fulton: Wait, I just realised he said and I quote THE Night Marchers not the Night Marcher? Does that mean there are more than him?

Jeremy Tucker: Well he does have that masked chick with him?

Andrew Fulton: True but he would have said that right?

Jeremy Tucker: Who knows, are you his friend? Plus he is supposed to be having a match with Benjamin Bolt later so we might find out there.

[SWAT Team]

[Nimbooda Nimbooda hits and Sabu the Elephant bellows and struts out to ringside, Rajiv Khan and Mohammad on his back. They run down his trunk and flip off it into the ring and then he is taken to the back by his handlers.]

Frank Salazar : Ladies and Gentlemen! The following contest is scheduled for ONE fall! Introducing first, hailing from Mumbai India! Coming in at a combined weight of 438 pounds! Rajiv Khan! Mohammad Khan! THE INDIAN ASSASSINS!!!!

[The KGB Theme hits and Armand and Frostbite make their way to the ring, accompanied by Bruno. The tag belts draped over each shoulder of the Compton Colossal.]

Frank Salazar : And introducing their opponents. Coming in at a combined weight of 470 pounds. Representing the Kross Global Bandits! The SWAT WORLD TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS! Armand von Krauss and Frostbite! THE KGB!!!!

Jeremy Tucker : And we are under way here, Mohammad starting it off with Frostbite. Rajiv not wanting anything to do with beginning this match.

Andrew Fulton : Then he must be smarter than he looks.

Jeremy Tucker : Frosty grabs Mohammad and nails a gut buster, then a big back breaker and then follows it up with the Frostbite stomp.

Andrew Fulton : Frostbite clobbers Khan and challenges Khan to get in the ring, Khan looks terrified and Frostbite pulls a zippo from his trunks and lights it up and whisers ‘you’re gonna burn.

Jeremy Tucker : You don’t know which Khan is which, do you?

Andrew Fulton : Of course I do. That Khan on the outside is the burned one scared to be burned some more.

Jeremy Tucker : Frostbite grabs Mohammad and has him in an arm ringer thru his legs and is thrusting Mohammed’s hand at Rajiv for the tag, but Rajiv wont do it.

Andrew Fulton : Frostbite lunges at the Khan on the outside and he jumps backwards off the apron and then Frostbite tells him there is no escape. Frosty tags in Armand and Armand pounces on …. Khan.

Jeremy Tucker : Mohammad cops a brutal clothesline from Armand. Armand then with a German Suplex. Then a long blower. Mohammad is wrestling this whole match alone, his partner and cousin Rajiv is terrified out there on the outside. And look at this, Frostbite is terrorising him on the outside stalking Rajiv who is back pedalling.

Andrew Fulton : Back peddling right into the brick wall of the Compton Colossal Bruno!

Jeremy Tucker : Rajiv crashed into Bruno and then is trapped between he and Frostbite and Frosty grabs Rajiv and pump handle slams him right onto the edge of the ring apron.

Andrew Fulton : Armand has Khan and running bulldogs him. Then a throat punch and a choke slam.

Jeremy Tucker : Bruno pulls out a table on the outside and sets it up while Frostbite sets up Rajiv and executes a high vertical suplex into a tombstone piledriver!

Andrew Fulton : Armand grabs Khan and Blitzkrieg!!!! (throw into the corner and punch opponent bloody)

Jeremy Tucker : Frostbite grabs Rajiv and lifts him up and drops him throat first onto the safety railing.

Andrew Fulton : Not so safe for Khan!

Jeremy Tucker : Power bomb position into a freefalling piledriver!!! DRILL TIP!!! Armand with the Drill Tip on Mohammad!

One ………………………….

Two ………………………….

THREE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!111

Andrew Fulton : KGB wins again! We are the champions!

Jeremy Tucker : Its not enough though for Frostbite. He has Rajiv and is pulling him up onto the top of the table and Bruno is pouring some fluid over the table!

Andrew Fulton : That’s going to engulf them both!

Jeremy Tucker : Frostbite doesn’t care. He has snapped!

Andrew Fulton : Frosty has Khan inbetween his knees and he is slumped over and Frosty pulls out the lighter and lights up the table while HE and Rajiv are on it and then he gorilla presses him above his head enshrouded in the flames and drops him and catches him with the TKA Stunner right thru the flames!

Jeremy Tucker : This is insane! Rajiv is already burned from Rally’s stupid ribs! Enough is enough!!!!

Andrew Fulton : Security is putting the fire out with extinguishers! Frostbite is no selling it! He is standing in the smoke from the now put out tables and he stares into the camera with his piercing blue eyes and then falls ontop of a cringing Khan and starts pummelling him as security pull him off and Bruno and Armand escort him to the back. The EMT’s rushing to check on Khan.

Frank Salazar : WINNERS OF THE MATCH, AND STILL SWAT WORLD TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS! ARMAND VON KRAUSS AND FROSTBITE! THE KGB!!!!!

[edwarddubin0604]

(The tron shows Psychotic Goth and Vampira are at The Wailing wall in Jerusalem walking along it feeling the stones as he passes each name that is inscribed on it.)

Vampira: "Tonight is the rematch that both my husband and the who upset him in his debut Devon D'Andre for the SWAT World Heavyweight Championship.
This time you shall have the chance but can you pull off another upset. We shall see."

Psychotic Goth: "Jerusalem is an appropriate place to hold this Battleground being it has been a battleground for thousands of years. All the armies of the Mid-East have been in an eternal struggle for control of this city. The Greeks, Romans, Babylonians and Assyrians and the crusaders among many others who wanted this city. Jerusalem has experienced plenty of darkness and soon you shall see even more when I defend my championship against Devon D'Andre."

(He roars in an ancient Hebrew dialect.)

Psychotic Goth: "Yes Devon tonight we meet again and this time you won't be debuting and I won't be taken by surprise. This time the stakes are quite high since it's for this championship. This time it's for the SWAT World Heavyweight Championship. A championship with a rich history and one that was soiled beyond it's honor and dignity before I beat Rally Jackson and brought him down several levels. Which comes to Commissioner Valentine. I appreciate your recognition of me but never screw with me. I am one not to be screwed with being I'm a complete maniac. Still I shall be forgiving for now."

(Psychotic Goth bellows in an ancient Hebrew dialect.)

Psychotic Goth: "Now Devon you get the ultimate chance to win the most prestigious championship in all the XHF. This championship which is properly around my waist shall be your chance to prove that you are for real and that your victory was no fluke. You get that chance of a lifetime and I know you're going to be taking that chance and bringing your best just like I shall bring my best."

(He roars again in an ancient Hebrew dialect.)

Psychotic Goth: "This is the true chance to prove yourself to see if you are true championship material. Can you reach the top of the mountain.
Can you really do it while handing me another loss to you. We shall see. Can you earn my full respect while avoiding the darkness that I shall envelope you in. That is going to be quite interesting won't it Devon."

(Psychotic Goth laughs maniacally.)

Psychotic Goth: "Tonight you shall lay siege to my fortress and let's see you try to storm my walls to claim my championship. The ultimate crown and scepter in SWAT is my championship and everyone wants my crown and scepter. I'm more than willing to face all comers including you Devon. I made that promise and I keep my word and I also wear this honor with respect."

(He laughs demonically.)

Psychotic Goth: "I've worked so hard and came so close and kept falling short until last show and I showed why I am' The King of the Goths.' I showed why I am 'The Psychotic One' and why I am a maniac in the ring. I showed how motivated I can get and I shall be even more motivated than ever since you are my opponent tonight."

(Psychotic Goth roars again in an ancient Hebrew dialect.)

Psychotic Goth: "I shall be even more motivated because some idiot was calling me out. To the fool who is calling me out. To the court jester who thinks he's funny by fooling with me with his calling out. Wait until I get my hands on this person and he's not going to find it funny. I know it's not you Devon since you aren't foolish."

(He once again roars in an ancient Hebrew dialect.)

Psychotic Goth: "Now Frostbite you think you are a maniac but you are only a wannabe mental patient who should stick to being a 'Cold Hearted' tag team bastard. Be happy with what you have but then again you have a girlfriend that's costing you minutes just by appearing on a screen.
Enjoy your little romantic time with your phone. Enjoy your little make out sessions with your voice mail. Better yet why not call those sex call hotlines being you love making calls to your lover."

(Psychotic Goth laughs maniacally.)

Psychotic Goth: "Now I'm not one who looks ahead and don't think I haven't for gotten about you Devon. I never forget my opponent and I don't look ahead either so don't look ahead of me either."

(He lowers his head and raises his arms before he flings his head back revealing his pale handsome goth like looks.)

Psychotic Goth: "Tonight in a matter of moments it's you and me Devon and we shall see who is really the better wrestler. Who shall walkout the champion. That shall be me Devon and I shall enter the ring as champion and leave as champion. I shall enter as the one wearing the crown and wielding the scepter and I shall leave with the scepter. Thus I have spoken and thus I shall decree."

(Psychotic Goth roars as the scene slowly fades to black.)

[Oh-Oh]

"It was only a matter of time..."

[The voice is familiar.]

"One shot was all that I needed to make history."

[White Teeth.]

[Perfect Smile.]

[Not a hair out of place.]

[Oxford Osland.]

[That smug chuckle.]

[That punchable face.]

"This piece of championship hardware is proof that I, Oxford Osland am the new face of SWAT."



"Every part of my being is set to become synonymous with this brand, and my far reaching connections in the 'biz' will help propel my championship reign to heights never before imagined."

[Osland reaches into his pocket and pulls out a blue ribbon with the word 'participation' inscribed on the front.]

"I would be remiss if I didn't thank my opponent Pequeno for stepping up to the plate and doing the honours like his contract enforced."

[Osland looks directly into the camera.]

"Here you go, little buddy. You've earned this."

[Osland hands over the participation ribbon. The cruel gesture isn't lost on us.]

"Perhaps this will become one of those 'life lessons' that folks full of wisdom preach?"

[The question is rhetorical and in poor taste. Osland smirks, knowing full well that Pequeno was a victim of circumstance and didn't deserve the be a attacked by the KGB.]

"Listen kid, I don't know if you've heard..."

[...]

"But I happen to be what they call an expert in the art of romance. I coach average joe's like yourself on a regular basis. Heck, I even have videos floating around online should you aspire to 'tighten up' your game. Based on recent events inside and outside of your circle, you might find the material extremely beneficial."

[Osland's words are laced with insincerity.]

"Which reminds me, I've come here tonight with three objectives to complete. The first is to wipe the floor with a 'so called' legend by the name of Rayzor. Based on some of his most recent performances, it's safe to say that my man's best days are behind him. So Rayzor, what do you say? If I defeat you tonight, you drop that silly nickname that holds about the same amount of credibility that Jonnie V does as an Authority Figure."

[Osland uses his hand to form a '0', while mouthing the number to the camera.]

"My second objective is to officially declare that I will be competing in this year's XHF Rumble. That's right ladies and gentleman, the new odds on favourite to hoist the X*Crown is standing right here in the flesh."

[Osland motions that he's ready to wrap another championship around his waist.]

"The third and final objective tonight is to make someone an offer that they can't refuse. The type of offer that is both mutually beneficial and will lead to prosperity unlike they could ever imagine."

[Osland's lips curl into a smirk.]

"Does anyone know where I can find Vanessa Martinez?'

[...]

"It's time to make some major moves."

[Osland turns away from the camera, ready for his search to commence.]

[Cut.]

[sc4r]

| GODS AND KINGS |

Heels click on the stone floor as they pass by on our left and our right. Large, ornate wooden bench pews line the open space nearly front to back. The walls adorned cross and other religious iconography, Jesus himself adorning the furthest wall behind the elevated pulpit, a large painting of The Last Supper adorns the wall behind it. More paintings and stained glass features are hung and presented all around the large, open room. Near the front, to the right of the pulpit, an ornate, tiered table sits. The table itself is lined with candles and candle holders. Some are lit, others are not. As we move around the space, various people enter and exit from side halls, many doing the sign of the cross as they do so. Some pass us and head towards the table of candles. They light one and place it in an empty holder before crossing themselves as they step backwards. One person that does this is familiar to us. Devon, his trademark black jacket and hoodie combination making him almost unmistakable.

Taking a couple of steps back, he slides around into the first row of pews and kneels down, his head lowered forward. As he finishes the gesture a priest steps up next to him and taps him on the shoulder. "I never thought I'd see you here," the father says. "I thought you gave up on all of this...". Devon looks up at him and smiles as he rises from his knees and plops back onto the bench behind him. "I did, but she didn't." The father nods, "I heard about Liz's passing. My condolences."

"It's fine," Devon starts, "I hadn't talked to her in... probably 3 years. I never knew she was even sick, Father." he smirks as he looks up toward the priest. "Damnit Devon, why do you always do that?"

"Because it's funny? Fine. Michael. For the record, I never gave up on this. It's not allowed when you're a catholic." He looks down at Devon quizzically as he steps back and has a seat on the opposite bench. "What? I don't..."

"If you ask anyone else who grew up up in another faith and subsequently loses that faith. Rarely are they the ones that would tell you that they're agnostic or an atheist. Those are terms left for the others.

"Go on." Michael replies, intrigued.

"But us, Catholics. We don't stop. We never seem to, technically, lose.. our faith. We simply... set aside for when it suits us. We LAPSE. We're never a former Catholic, we're a LAPSED Catholic. Think it has something to do with the guilt they drill into our heads. We feel guilty about quitting or.. something." Devon shrugs at his own thought. "Is that why you went back?" Michael quipped back. "Guilt?" The question from the priest mildly shocks Devon.

"No." Devon's face twists into confusion as he thinks about it though. "No. There was nothing to be guilty over or about. I did what I wanted and I walked away. Then I came back when I decided I had more to do. Really all there is to it. Why, you keeping tabs on me?" He grins and lets out a small laugh. The priest, Michael, returns the laugh and nods slightly. "Yea, a little. There's a kid in the afterschool program that we run here. He follows all the different companies and stuff. Anyways, he showed this article about a returning star one day and he was amused when I told him that I knew that star growing up."

"Wait... you mean you actually admitted that?"

"Shocking, I know." Michael smiles. "Since then I've been keeping an eye out. Always nice to see when someone you know makes good on things. Gets out alive and all. Are you glad you went back?"

"Glad? Hmm.. glad. Mildly I suppose. It's better than doing nothing, I suppose. It's strange but, I suppose I'll get used to it." Devon looks past the priest as a figure catches his eye. A woman with piercing blue eyes, black pants and top. Her dirty blonde hair tied back in a pony tail. She seems to stare at Devon for a moment before taking a seat on the bench, turning her gaze forward.

"Strange? This is something you've done since we were in high school. How could it be strange?"

"Because, it moves.. quickly. And sometimes, it moves past you." Devon pushes himself up off the bench and reaches into his jacket, this time pulling out a pack of cigs and a lighter. "I thought you quit and vaped."

"I did and I do, but the tank broke. I'm waiting on the new one. I'm going outside. Join me? For the convo, not the smoke. I remember the one time you tried a cigarette. I thought you died."

"I think I did."

The priest stands up and the two make a quick journey to the doorway off to the left. Sun shining bright, Devon lights his cigarette and takes a quick drag as he looks up to the sky with a squint. "What, y'all couldn't plan a tree over here or something? Jesus."

"Excuse me?" Michael says at the use of that name in that way.

"What?" Devon looks back at him, his arms stretched out unsure of the offense. "I'm sure he'd say the same thing." Michael just shakes his head as Devon turns and leans against the concrete half wall, staring out at the city. "A decade ago, I was a king in this business. Three years later, I became a God and then I became nothing. I had.. nothing. No.. drive, no want or will. I was done. I was burnt, inside and out. I.. lied earlier. It.. is guilt that brought me back. I walked away when I still had so much to do and the ability to do it." A small smirk causes the left side of his lip to crul upwards. "Irony is that it was that last time I talked to Liz is when I decided to start all this. Sold the school, got my shoulder and my knee fixed. Even lived in Tokyo for a while and trained with Erika and her crew. I did anything and everything I could to sharpen whatever skills I had left that hadn't left me already. Whatever... abilities were left that may have been buried beneath all the guilt, depression and bullshit.

"It's there and abundant. That's evident by your last two matches, Dev. Dare I say, even... Godlike still." He bows his head and mumbles "Father forgive me."

"But now, I'm just a God out of time. A proverbial remnant from a bygone era."

"I can't believe I'm going to do this again, but perhaps God has a chance to reclaim his place on the mount. I'm so going to hell."

"Nah, you grew up in Chicago. It's only up from here. And what are you talking about?"

"Do you watch the shows you're on, Devon?" Michaels eyes narrow in disbelief he has to ask Devon that question.

"Usually but last week I cut out pretty quick to head to Atlanta for.."

"Ah. Understood. Anyways. There was a new World Champion crowned. That.. Psychotic Goth."

"Oh just what the world needs. Man spits in more tongues than I throw kicks."

"And earlier today it was announced that his first title defense would be against you."

"What..." Devon reaches into his pocket and pulls out his cell. His eyes widen, presumably reading a message that tells him the same. "Well, I'll be damned. I'd be lying if I said I saw that one coming." Devon turns around, his back now against the wall and sighs as he looks towards Michael. He looks as if he's about to say something but someone catches his eye. The woman again, a few feet behind the priest. She's looking out over the city, seemingly paying them no mind. "Wonder if he'll underestimate me again. I know I said I'd turn him into a stepping stone but.. fuck, this turned out to be Saini."

"It's funny you bring that up."

"Oh? Think he'll chat up a burning bush?" he flashes a cheeky smile.

"The show's in Israel."

Devon just stares at Michael for a minute, not even blinking. Just a dead stare. "Well fuck. Didn't see that one coming. This place is full of 'em."

"It seems that way. I apologize but I have to go. I've a meeting in about 10 minutes." He steps towards Devon, his arms outstretched for a hug. Devon stands and obliges. "Nah, you're good. It was good to see you. Next time we'll grab a beer."

Michael grabs Devon's shoulders and looks at him almost incredulously. "A beer? Really?"

"What, the bar serves food too. I'll do the drinking, you do the eating." They smile at each other and share a hearty laugh. Michael lets go and turns around, making his way quickly back towards the church. Devon sits back against the wall and lights another cigarette. He runs his hand across his forehead as the woman slowly approaches and stands next to him, the same way Michael did.

"What are you doing here?" He asks, his tone slightly changed from what it was before. A bit deeper, angrier.

"I'm here to bring in the cat." she replies, her tone very straightforward and direct. He looks at her with disbelief and shakes his head. "I thought I was done with you, Wil. I left.. ALL of y'all behind. You, Liz, Jon. EVERYONE. This is ME now. No one else. No coat tails, no stables. ME. The biggest fucking regret I had back then was the fact that everyone said I did the things I did because I had help. I don't want it this time, I don't need it."

"Devon, I'm not here for any of that. I came to congratulate you. To encourage you. I'm glad that you're doing it this way. I said for years that you should be doing it like this."

He takes an angry drag from the cigarette, dismissively waving at her as he turns around and leans over the wall again. "Bullshit. That's such bullshit and you know it. I felt like I could never get rid of you, even after you were gone. Low and behold."

"Fine." She says sternly. Devon turns to say something to her but she's already disappeared. "Jesus fuck." He takes another drag from the cigarette, exhaling the smoke as he snuffs out the flame against the concrete. "Goth. I know you're going to say some dumb shit about being rightfully crowned because you called yourself a king." He laughs at the thought. "You don't get to do that in this business, though. Name yourself. They are given to you when you earn them. Now, that title belt, probably. Our match a few weeks ago was one of the toughest I've ever had. You have the champion's pedigree in you, so I don't doubt you having the belt is nothing but earned. But the moniker of king? Mate, stick around for a defense for two first. Earn it."

He turns around.

"I did. Cry havoc, Goth. War is coming."

|FIN|

[HNDRXX]

“You get handed lemon eventually you gonna have enough lemons you can make a lemon tart, you know what I mean? You take in that negative energy, those hard experiences and you turn ‘em into something you gonna be proud of.”

The man more popularly known as HNDRXX is standing in front of the SWAT Banner, standing opposite him is Katie Moss, hair tucked in a bun, and looking positively professional. Deandre Parks stood wearing a white supreme beanie, and a fashionably large Depeche Mode shirt. And bespoke jeans.

HNDRXX rubs his hands together as Katie Moss holds the mic as proffered as you might expect in the nineteen eighties during a studio wrestling show. The only thing missing is the roar of the crowd.

“Hendricks, you’re new to SWAT, but not wrestling. Is that correct?”

HNDRXX nods.

“Yeah, I spent a minute in Europe training and wrestling in Germany and the United Kingdom, they showed me love in Europe, so it kinda like a second home to me at this point you know? But I keep it Flatbush represented. Where you from, is where you from you know?

I did a few mo’s at the gyms in Brooklyn, but realized that wasn’t gonna do it for me.”

Katie Moss considers this.

“So would you say your style is mostly grounded in the European Style?”

HNDRXX smiles briefly, flashing some pearly white.

“Naw, my style ain’t got no father you know? I grew up watching wrestling with my Dad, and I was always drawn more to the dudes who could twist up other dudes. I ain’t never been one to hold much truck with high flying. So I sought that out, and Europe was the best option. Cardiff Dungeon Fam forever.”

“You mention your father quite a bit.”

“Yeah, my pops put me up, you know? Whenever I was dreamin’ big, he’d have the kind word, that encouragement to get out there and try a little harder. When I got rolled in some Mixed Martial Arts, he wasn’t never lettin’ me feel poor bout myself. But he ain’t tryna live through me neither, he’d always let me feel the sting of a loss, but always encouraging me.

Early on, I wouldn’t been able to even make it to those first tournaments, or the school wrestling team if he ain’t in the crowd.”


Katie Moss nods.

“So you have a background in amatuer wrestling?”

“Yeah, that and sambo. Lotsa Russian dudes in the borough, so it was cheaper than Jiu-Jitsu, I don’t want to sound like I was some prodigy or nothing, I spent a lotta my time gettin’ my ass kicked by dudes with double dad bod, feel me?”

HNDRXX chuckles.

“So we shouldn’t expect you to leave SWAT for professional MMA anytime soon then?”

HNDRXX lets out a pretty good belly laugh as Katie Moss joins in.

“You mentioned recently before your match with Pequeno Dinosaurio, your father wasn’t well.”

“Yeah.”

HNDRXX’s face tightens up.

“Yeah, my pops is in chemotherapy. A lifetime of working in laundry breathing all that shit, to put me through school, put up my dreams, letting me live a little more, that bill come due. His words, not mine.

Not gonna lie, I got deep my feels over it. Tumor wrapped around his throat like a snake, just slowly squeezing the life out of him. Ima remember him sitting next to me watching Jake Shaw and Devon Case, him sitting in the stands at every event I participated in. Even now, I can’t afford to have him at the show, but I look to the crowd, and I know he there.

He with me. Him and my dudes, the boys from Flatbush, they always with me. I feel like I got lucky, the things broke for me just right enough that I turned Europe into SWAT, and that I get to chase my dream of being the next Gotch, the next Case. Not a lot of dudes raised by a single man get that shot.”

HNDRXX nods solemnly. Katie Moss looks contemplative momentarily. HNDRXX breaks a moment of silence.

“I think a lot people Katie, expect me to have a chip on my shoulder, comin’ up hard in a poor part of a rich borough. But I while I think on that, and I use it for that fire to drive me, I don’t want my son to grow up in a tenement, I don’t want him to go to a public school that don’t give a shit.”

Katie Moss, for her part nods.

“So you would say that you are honoring where you are from by grasping the opportunities presented to you then.”

HNDRXX nods again.

“Absolutely. If I could’ve rapped, I’d have done that, If I could’ve played music, I’d have done that. If I coulda played any sport, I’d have done that. It ain’t about the posters you got on your wall as a kid and being bitter about not fitting that image, I ain’t Kobe Bryant, Hell I ain’t one of the Ball brothers.

Being passionate about wrestling, I pursued it. I learned the style I wanted to learn, and I still don’t look like the posters in the halls, but now, some kid in some small town, is gonna know they can come up and they got another option.

I wanna make my own image in this sport.”

Katie Moss considers this, and rubs her chin.

“You’ve said before you look at Karl Gotch as an influence.”

HNDRXX nods.

“Yeah, the man changed the sport and shaped an entire style in professional wrestling. I think a lot of people chase that clout, and only concern themselves with the moment, the next match, the next title. I ain’t sayin that knowing what those short term goals are ain’t important. But if you don’t look at the bigger picture, zoom out, and see what road you wanna take. I don’t think you got a long future in this game.

You start thinkin’ bout that last match too much, and you start chasin’ thing that ain’t about who you are.

I coulda got hung up on being popped out of two Rumble’s and then coming up just short. But I ain’t that. You gonna win and you gonna lose. You can spend your time hangin’ on to others, chasing that clout. You know short sighted thirsty wrestlers try and make Monopoly moves on a Shoots and Ladders board.

It ain’t even about certain wrestlers running away at the mouth, you feel me?”

“You are of course referring to Union Jack.”

“Yeah, but broadly he ain’t unique or special. You look at the whole of wrestling, there’s a lot of Union Jacks. You gotta have some respect, because in their own way they one-hundred percent honest with themselves, you know?”

Katie looks mildly puzzled.

“What do you mean exactly?”

“I mean think about it, could men like Union Jack be anything else? They ain’t got no creep to them, they ain’t got no subtle moves. It’s all like that one dude in that Dilbert Comic, you know..”

HNDRXX pauses and considers.

“Loud Howard. Howard ain’t got layers to him, he just walks up and shouts his intentions as loudly as he can, and he ain’t gonna deviate or offer no surprises. So in his own way, he among the most honest men in wrestling. A whole lotta dudes like Union Jack. They might wear a mask, they might wear a jacket with bright lights.

And the thing they ain’t gonna like, they homogenous. But they like to think they unique. It’s like picking up a bunch of shirts from Wal-Mart. They might be different colors, they might have a different logo, but they the same shirt. Long term, there’s a lot more Union Jack’s then Hendrick’s.

That’s why I gonna shine. I ain’t hangin’ on no one else. Im tryna to raise the bar of wrestling, and I’m gonna show why I am the best PURE wrestler in the world, an’ I’m gonna do it one match at time. It ain’t gonna be about wins or losses. It’s about building a legacy. While dudes like Union Jack updating they match history day by day, match by match, I’m focused on achieving my potential.”

HNDRXX nods again, Katie Moss brings the mic back close to her.

“Well thank you Hendricks. I certainly look forward to hearing and seeing more from.”

Black.

[edwarddubin0604]

(Team Fairtex and The Hired Killers are in the locker room talking when the door opens and Warren W. Webber enters.)

Tong Fairtex: "Warren what can we do for you even though we know what you are here to do."

Warren W. Webber: "Well not that you mentioned it what do you think of your opponents tonight."

Tong Fairtex: "You know Warren we know for a fact that two of our opponents are made up of freaks and the other two are real wrestlers. We're talking about those two rejects from an insane asylum The Hell Hounds and 'Lucky' Linda La Fey Pequeno Dinosario."

Warren W. Webber: "Which ones are which."

(The Hired Killers and Team Fairtex look at each other and look dubiously at Warren who looks at them.)

Warren W. Webber: "What did I say."

Phantam Fairtex: "Who do you think Warren."

Warren W. Webber: "I don't know."

(Team Fairtex slap and shake their heads groaning while The Hired Killers pull out their Glocks ready to shoot him but they signal them to back off.)

Phantam Fairtex: "Who do you mean who's who. You know who we're talking about Warren."

Warren W. Webber: "You mean your opponents."

Team Fairtex: "DUH!"

Tong Fairtex: "Now let's talk about those two stinking pieces of trash The Hell Hounds. You notice that loudmouthed moron Reverend Marsh and that airheaded clueless gossip of a wife or is it his secretary since nobody even his flock or anybody can tell the difference."

Phantsm Fairtex: "Oh so true brother Tong hallelujah. I mean this defrocked dimwit complains about former suckers who worked for him just because they gossiped about him and his perky airhead. Oh how shameful that he has to pay those gossipers off."

Tong Fairtex: "You knowMarsh I saw you wrestle once in SWAT when it was part of Hardkore South and talking about mediocrity. You barely defeated that no name and then there was that forgettable hardcore World Division Hardkore Rocky Mountains where you barely lost to Psychotic Goth's wife/valet Vampira. How embarrassing you were back then and now you decided to become a manager and lead your Hell Hounds to championships by your usual tactics and we know how you helped them achieve their victories."

Phantam Fairtex: "Let's see foreign objects, threats of fire and brimstone literally befalling the opponents if they don't lose and all those wonderful things just so you can steal the gold championships and stiff your tag team. Then you insult the intelligence of the ringsiders of JROK along with that nation's people."

Tong Fairtex: "We thought you were a religious man Marsh and don't religious men respect the people of other countries. Let's see SWAT's show is in Jerusalem and I hate to see you committing that same faux paus since you are such a well respected religious man and this nation cares about religion more than you. However, we're not going toinsult their intelligence since you'll do that perfectly well yourself."

Warren W. Webber: "Well that was an interesting analysis of The Hell Hounds. Hired Killers what do you think of their partners Pequeno Dinosaurio and 'Lucky' Linda La Fey."

Kim: "You know what they say....."

Jade: "You got the money and we got the time and we had plenty of time on our hands lately. So when we were announced that we were part of this card in Israel jump at the chance."

Kim: "We went into the West Bank and showed why our reputation was earned and we did it for free too. We don't stand for terrorists and I fought them in Iraq and never regretted it either."

Jade: "Now to our other opponents in this match. Linda this is just one more chapter in our rivalry which is becoming like my feud with Wildcat Lynn Brewster and this is going to be no exception. Two former SWAT Amazons Champions in the same ring again and two fierce rivals locking up again in combat. Seems like old times again and we'll be getting reacquainted again after all this time."

Warren W. Webber: "What about Pequeno Dinosaurio."

Kim: "You know Pequeno Dinosaurio is a great champion and he's going to go places in SWAT. he had an excellent championship reign but The KGB decided to attack him all because Armand couldn't keep his wife Esmerelda from stalking him. He lost his championship because his agent was looking out for him. He was too proud and could have had his career ended and he never would have been ableto wrestle in this match. Pequeno will regain his championship or even get the opportunity to get himself another championship in the future. Wouldn't it be something if Pequeno and La Fey are told to wrestle most of the match because Reverend Marsh doesn't want the Hell Hounds to lose either The Hired Killers or Team Fairtex."

Jade: "He knows that his donations will tank and that fancy lifestyle that he gives himself and that airheaded wife of his will disappear. Then he has to actually work for a living which is something he's afraid of. Well we're going to make sure your money dries up and you lose your mega church and that fancy studio of yours."

Kim: "Don't worry we'll find you something to do like say chauffeuring us around and then you can pay your debt to all who you owe money to and your Hell Hounds can go backto their asylum where they belong. Meanwhile Pequeno Dinosaurio and Linda La Fey can go on to greatness after they get the stink of you and the Hell Hounds off them."

Tong Fairtex: "We're family and we are a solid unit and we're going out there to win. Let's go and deal with some business."

(They leave the locker room.)

Warren W. Webber: "Team Fairtex and The Hired Killers had some pointed comments about their opponents. Back to you.)

(The scene slowly fades to black.)

[Union Jack]

An Air Of Professionalism and Respect

The SWAT Tron cuts to a backstage corridor and before we see anyone we hear the familiar click of heels on concrete which telegraphs the presence of Vanessa Martinez. She is walking side by side with the British Luchador known as Union Jack. The two are speaking quietly, a look of concern is etched across the... mask... of Jack, as Vanessa painstakingly reiterates her earlier points.

“Okay Jack, try to remember what I said. Try to keep it professional and respectful... And on topic!”

“On topic. Got it.” Jack replies while cautiously nodding his head.

“And try not to antagonize him further.” Vanessa reminds him again. “Oh! And remember, the interviewer's name is Warren!”

“Got it” Jack replies again.

They round a corner to where Warren W. Webber is waiting in front of the bespoke SWAT interview set. Jack steps up and, after a quick over the shoulder check to non-verbally confer with Vanessa, offers his hand and shakes Warren's. Vanessa takes her place to the side; remaining off camera, as Jack and Warren face front.

“I am being joined now by 'El oso de la mala influencia', 'The bad Influence bear' Union Jack!” Warren pauses and gestures to Jack “Jack, it's good to see you again!”

“Thanks for having me Wi...” Jack glaces off camera, sighs and “...Warren.”

“How are you feeling this week Jack?” Warren asks, slightly shocked at the sound of his own name.

“Oh, I'm pretty good! I organized a threesome last night. There were a couple of no shows, but I still had a good time!” Jack grins, but a cough heard off screen draws his attention. “Eh...” He hesitates “I mean... I'm good. Been training hard and eh... living clean?!”

“I see...” Warren hesitates as his own confusion mirror's Jack's “Last week saw you make your successful SWAT debut where you lit the world on fire with both your dominant in-ring performance and signature styling! But tonight you face your toughest challenge yet in the form of HNDRXX. Tell us... Are you ready?”

“HA! Ready?!” Jack scoffs... then glances off camera and hesitates once more. “I mean... Yea. I'm ready Wo... Warren. I've been working hard and eh.... living clean?!”

“Jack... Is something wrong?” Warren asks, taking on the same confused inflection in his voice that Jack himself is using. “You don't seem to be yourself this evening.”

“I... I'm fine Warren.” Jack insists, trying to convince the interviewer as well as himself. “I'm simply trying to present a more professional, pro-active and serious side of myself!”

“I... see...” Warren repeats awkwardly. “I have to say Jack, this isn't the interview I had prepared myself for today. Tell me, can this change in attitude be attributed to the newly established business relationship between yourself and Miss Martinez?”

“I guess, in many ways, it can. Vanessa is helping to show me a new way of thinking, one shared by my opponent who I'm sure you saw just stated that...” Jack pauses. He stares off camera to his watching agent and with a small smile, shrugs his shoulders. “See, Wilson, I've recently learned from watching my opponent, that there are things more important than bravado. As he pointed out, respect is what is really important. More important even than winning and losing, more important than titles and accomplishments. Because, in this sport of ours, it's respect that matters, not success. Respect is what will help a man achieve his potential, and if that potential amounts to counting the lights above the ring at the end of the night, then so be it! Because when all is said and done, when the victors are collecting the winner's purse, you can always help the Roadies pack up the ring like a chump.” Jack laughs. “But, it's not just about having respect Wolfgang, oh no, you've also gotta be non-homogenous and have layers. The problem comes when, like an onion, those layers are diminishing. Each one amounting to slightly less than the one before it, decreasing time after time, gradually eroding away until all that is left is a bitter, twisted husk, dying alone as the chemo fails him. Swallowing that bitter pill while his disappointment of a progeny claims success in mediocrity.”

The gasping sound of a woman off screen uttering the words “Oh. My. God.” is mirrored by the stunned look of horror on Warren's face. Jack continues. Relentlessly.

“Let me tell you something, Wade! Earlier, you said Hendricks was my toughest challenge yet and sure, from a technical standpoint that might even be true, but when you're comparing the guy to my last opponent, that really isn't saying much is it?! For example, there's this door backstage where the writing is this weird squiggly stuff instead of just saying 'Push' and I spent a good few minutes trying to figure that out! If you compare Hendricks to that, he wouldn't even be my toughest challenge tonight!” Jack laughs again. “Let's face it, the guy is a joke and not a very good one! He talks about respect, dedication and hard-work like he shares a script writer with those inspirational animal posters fat middle aged women hang on the walls of their office cubicle; all the while secretly hoping someone throws one up 'em and they catch pregnant so they wont have to die alone and be eaten by their cats! Hendricks may be one of the best wrestlers in the entire world, but there's no edge to him Woodrow. There's no flare. No flavor! He's like the cute girl next door that you spent years beating your meat to, sure he might look the part, but when you finally get to live that wet-dream and gently peel his panties off, you realize those choking fantasies you had were just that, fantasy. And realistically you had a better time playing doctors and nurses with the gaped toothed second cousin on your mums side with ADHD and Tourette's! Sure, I caught something last time, but that just adds to the fun! Wait... What was I saying?”

“Ehhh...” Warren stumbles over his words, his jaw still slightly agape. “Something about HNDRXX and respe....”

“Respect! That's it!” Jack gleefully interjects. “Respect is important! Hey, wait a minute.... Vanessa! Why don't you get yourself over here!” The sound of protests can be heard, but Jack merrily waves his hand in an inviting gesture. “Come now, I'm not taking no for an answer!”

Vanessa awkwardly walks into the shot and takes her place alongside Jack.

“Ladies and Gents, let me officially introduce you to my new Mana... Agent! I mean Agent!” Jack grips Vanessa's hand, pulls it up above her head and forces her into a little twirl before she even has the chance to protest. “If you've been wondering why I've been stammering and staring off screen, it's all because of this beauty! I tell ya, there's been enough twitches in my pants I'm pretty sure there will be another burning bush in Jerusalem before the night's through!”

“Jack!” Vanessa snaps and pulls her hand violently away from the Brit, who laughs in response.

“As I was saying! My opponent tonight seems to believe himself to be in a league of his own. A shining example to us all. He claims there are a lot like me while reveling in his uniqueness...” Jack shakes his head “What he doesn't seem to realize, Willard, is that just because there are no rice-cakes at the party, doesn't mean they aren't in the house... Just that they're too fucking dull to get an invite!”

Stunned, Warren turns slowly to the camera and slowly speaks... “That was Union Jack in preparation for his up coming match with HNDRXX. Back to you.”

“Hey, Waleed...” Jack leans in close to the interviewer “...I've been meaning to ask; how do you do that?”

“Do what?” Warren asks, confused.

“Speak in capitals and non-standardized English. Every time I try to say his name the way it's spelled, it sounds like I'm screaming after catching a genital wart in my zipper.”

“Jack..” Warrens eyes widen “We're still live!”

“Ah...” Jack turns to the camera “...Bollox!”

The SWAT Tron cut's back to the empty ring and the waiting announcers. Andrew Fulton is beside himself laughing while Jeremy Tucker is sat in stunned silence.